A Dear Little Girl at School

“I am thot. It’ll not be much of a job I’ll be havin’ ayther.”

“Why! Isn’t he going to have a real Thanksgiving dinner?”

“She was tellin’ me this mornin’ thot it would be aisy, and I cud have me afthernoon the same as usual, for he’d not be in. Says she, ’a bit av a chicken will do and ye can make a pumpkin pie the day before, so what with a few pertaties and a taste of stewed tomats he’ll do bravely.”

“Oh dear!” Edna sighed again as she thought of all that would be served at her own home table. Her little face wore a very serious and troubled look every time she looked at Uncle Justus that evening and the next day at recess she unburdened her heart to Dorothy and Jennie. These three always ate their lunch together and they took this opportunity for many a confidence.

“Girls,” Edna began smoothing down her frock and folding her hands. “I have a chance to do Uncle Justus a kindness and I can’t make up my mind to do it. I’m afraid I’m awfully selfish.”

Dorothy laughed. “I’d like to see anybody who’s less so, wouldn’t you, Jennie?”

“I certainly would. Edna, tell us about it.”

“Well, you see Uncle Justus has things to do so he can’t go with Aunt Elizabeth to her sister’s and he hasn’t even time to come to us for Thanksgiving, and he will have to eat his dinner all alone, unless – unless I stay and keep him company.”

“Oh Edna, and you couldn’t be with your family last year because you were here.” Dorothy’s tones were almost awe-stricken.

“I know, and of course I am dying to be at home, and that’s where the being selfish comes in, I keep thinking how I should hate to eat my dinner alone and every time I look at Uncle Justus I feel so sorry for him I can hardly stand it, then when I think of not going home I feel so sorry for myself I can scarcely stand that.”

Both girls were silent. They saw the opportunity for heroic sacrifice as well as Edna did, but they could not advise her either way; it was too weighty a question, though Jennie ventured, “If he is going to be busy all the time you would be all by yourself except at dinner.”

“Yes,” Edna nodded, “and Ellen is going out after she gets the dishes done, but I suppose I could go home after that. She could put me on the trolley and I’d get home in an hour. I thought about that.”

“So, then it wouldn’t be like staying all day, would it?” said Dorothy, brightening a little as she saw this much light upon the matter.

“Yes, of course that would make a great difference,” returned Edna.

“Or,” Jennie had a sudden brilliant thought. “Oh, Edna, I wonder if you couldn’t come to my house and stay all night with me. I should be so delighted to have you and I know mother would, too. We aren’t to have our Thanksgiving dinner till six, so you could have two.”

Edna looked quite happy as this plan was suggested. What girl of nine does not delight in such an experience as spending the night with a friend? The thought of two Thanksgiving dinners, though one might be rather a frugal one, had its charm, too. “I think that would be perfectly lovely,” she said, then after a moment’s thought, “but you must ask your mother first and I’ll ask mine.”

“I’ll ask her as soon as I go home and will tell you at the club meeting this afternoon, and then you can ask your mother when you get home and let me know on Monday. I just know what mother will say before I ask her.”

Then the bell rang and recess was over, but Edna returned to her lessons very happy at this solution of what had been a matter of deep thought. It turned out just as Jennie had prophesied, for she brought a veritable invitation to Edna that afternoon in the shape of a little note, and she further said that Mrs. Ramsey meant to make sure by writing a formal request to Mrs. Conway, therefore Edna considered the matter as good as settled.

She was full of the subject that afternoon when she reached home. It was quite dark although she and the others had taken the train which brought them more quickly. The club meetings were so interesting that it was hard to get away in time, but Mrs. Conway was on the watch as the girls came in the gate. Of course Edna had told Celia about all this, and indeed it had been talked over at the club, all the girls agreeing that it was a perfectly lovely thing for Edna to do, so she came in quite exalted by all the approval.

However, when she told her tale and her mother saw that it was a case of genuine desire to do a good deed, and that in the beginning it had appeared in the light of a heavier sacrifice than could be made easily, she felt that she could allow the child to do as she wished, being sure that it was not in a spirit of self-righteousness. And so, on the evening before Thanksgiving after Uncle Justus had returned from seeing Mrs. Horner safely on her journey to her sister’s, he saw a little figure watching for him at the window.

“Well, well, well, little girl,” he said, “how is this? I thought you would have been at home before now.”

“I’m not going till Friday,” replied Edna smiling up at him. “I’m going to stay and have Thanksgiving dinner with you.”

“What? What? What?” Uncle Justus frowned and shook his head, but he took off his spectacles and wiped them very vigorously.

“Yes, I am.” Edna was very decided. “Mother said I might, and oh, Uncle Justus, she knew Aunt Elizabeth would be away and she thought maybe you and I would like some of our Thanksgiving, so she has sent some of her goodies, and we’re going to have a lovely time. I am going to help Ellen set the table and wipe the dishes.”

“But, my child, I cannot allow it. No, no, no.”

“Oh, but, please.” The more Uncle Justus denied, the more anxious was Edna.

“But, my child, it would be selfish and inconsiderate of me in the extreme to take you away from your family on a holiday. I know what it means to little people to have such treats, and to an old fellow like me it will not make such a difference.”

“But you told me you had never had a Thanksgiving dinner alone.”

“That is quite true, but it is no reason why I should call upon a little girl like you to give up the holiday to me.”

“Don’t you want me to stay?” asked Edna wistfully, and feeling a little hurt lest after all, her sacrifice was not really needed.

Then Uncle Justus did a rare thing. He sat down, put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. “My dear little girl,” he replied, “if that is the way you feel, I can only say that I am delighted beyond measure that you want to stay, and you will give me a greater cause for thanksgiving than I have expected or deserved,” and he drew her to his knee.

Edna smiled as she wondered what Florence Gittings, or any of the other girls, for that matter, would say if they could see her then so extremely near the fierce eyebrows.

“But what will you do in the afternoon?” asked Uncle Justus after a moment. “I must go out early, you see.”

“I know that. At first I thought I would get Ellen to put me on the cars to go home. It would be quite safe, for I have gone so many times, but Jennie Ramsey and her mother have invited me to come there to stay all night. I’ll come back here on Friday, if you would like me to, Uncle Justus. I could stay till Aunt Elizabeth comes home.”

Uncle Justus was silent for a moment. He smoothed her hair thoughtfully and then he said gently. “Your mother very kindly has asked me to spend the week end with you all, so suppose we go out together on Friday afternoon. I can take my papers with me and do my necessary work on Saturday there as well as here. Your little club meets on Friday afternoon, doesn’t it? I will meet you and Celia at the station in time for the four-thirty train, which is the one you usually take, isn’t it?”

Edna was surprised that Uncle Justus should know all this about the club and the time of their going home, but she didn’t say so. “I think that will be a very nice plan,” she told him. “I’ll come back here on Friday morning and have dinner with you, and then I can go to the club meeting. It is to be at Helen Darby’s this time, and that is very near, you know.” The twilight gathered about the two and in the dim light Uncle Justus did not appear in the least a person to stand in awe of, for when Ellen came to call them to supper she was surprised to see the little girl still sitting on the old man’s knee, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder.

CHAPTER V

IN A BLIZZARD

The enjoyment of helping Ellen, of setting the table and of being consulted on such important subjects as whether the best china and the finest tablecloth should be used almost made up to Edna for being away from home on Thanksgiving day. The basket sent by Mrs. Conway contained several things which made the dinner much more of a feast than it would otherwise have been, for there was a jar of tomato soup, a small chicken pie with scalloped leaves and little balls of crust on top, some delicious pickles, a glass of currant jelly and another of cranberry sauce. Margaret had brought in a bunch of cut flowers from Mrs. MacDonald’s greenhouse, the day before and these set in the middle of the table were a lovely ornament.

“It’s the foinest lookin’ table iver I saw in this house,” said Ellen when Edna called her in to see. “What was it yez were sayin’ about thim little toasty crusts for the soup. I’d be afther makin’ thim if I cud know wanst.”

“Oh, I can tell you just how,” said Edna, “for I have watched our cook make them.” She felt very important to be overseeing this piece of cookery and went in to call her uncle, feeling very much pleased at what had been accomplished.

“Well, well, well,” exclaimed Uncle Justus, “this does look like holiday times. Who did all this?”

“Ellen and I,” Edna told him, “and it was lots of fun.”

Uncle Justus nodded. “I dare say,” he said with a smile, as he sat down.

It was really a merrier repast than Edna had ever eaten under that roof, for instead of eating his dinner in silence as he generally did, Uncle Justus was quite talkative and actually attempted to joke once in a while. When Ellen was taking away the plates before she served the dessert, the old gentleman arose. “I think,” he said, “that this is just the occasion to open that jar of ginger Captain Doane sent me awhile ago.” So he went to his own special cupboard, unlocked the door and brought forth the wicker bound ginger jar which had been there several weeks, and it is safe to say Edna was given her share.

“A famous dinner,” said Uncle Justus as he rose from the table. “I can’t remember that I ever had a pleasanter one, and I have you to thank for it, my dear. Now, I am afraid I shall have to go to my meeting, but I know you have an agreeable plan for the evening, so I do not feel the reluctance in leaving that I should otherwise.”

Edna helped him on with his overcoat, handed him his walking stick and saw him off, standing in the door, and hoping he would look back. He did this giving her a smile and nod as she waved her hand. Then she went back to Ellen and together they did the dishes very carefully. After this both must get dressed, and an hour later they were about to start when the bell rang and Ellen opened the door to Jennie Ramsey.

“I thought I’d just come for you in the motor car,” she said. “Mother said Mack could take us for a little ride in the fresh air so we would have a better appetite for dinner.”

This was quite exciting, for Edna’s opportunities for riding in an automobile were not many.

The magnificence of the Ramsey’s dinner far outdid Aunt Elizabeth’s, but Edna did not enjoy it one whit the more, although it was very delightful to be served by a man in livery, and to have such exquisite china and glass to look at during the meal. The child felt a little shy in the presence of so many strangers, and had little to say. Moreover, she had too often been told by Aunt Elizabeth that “little children should be seen and not heard” for her not to remember she must not chatter. Really the best time came when she and Jennie went up to bed when Jennie showed her all her treasures, her pretty room and her rows of books. They became very confidential as they snuggled down under the covers, and when Mrs. Ramsey came in to kiss them both good-night, Edna felt much happier than had seemed possible she could be when she first considered that she must spend the day and night away from her mother.