A Modern Cinderella

“Oh, please don’t,” pleaded Marilla. She stooped to pick up some of the broken pieces. “I think his mother will pay for them.”

“Who’s his mother?”

“Mrs. John Borden, 138 Arch Street.”

“What brought you in the store.”

“I was sent to buy some things. They are in this bag, and – the change.”

A gentleman came up to inquire into the matter.

“These children ought to be taught a lesson. That Granford boy carried off an expensive toy the other night and I sent a note to his mother that brought her to terms at once. See what is the value of these things.”

The counter girl began to place the pieces together and examine the marks.

“It is – sixty-seven cents.”

“That’s too much. We’ll send a note to his mother, and young sir, if you dare to come in this store again, we’ll send you to jail, I think.”

Quite a crowd had collected. One lady looked at him sharply.

“Why, it’s little Jack Borden,” she said. “What’s the matter?”

Marilla told the story over.

“I don’t care,” Jack flung out. “I just stamped on the old things.”

“Take that to Mrs. Borden,” and the man handed Marilla a folded note. “Now, I’ll see you out, young sir.”

Marilla trembled from head to foot. She was very much ashamed though none of it had been her fault. But what would Mrs. Borden say? What if Mrs. Borden should send her back to the Bethany Home! Oh, she did not want to go. But she could not manage Jack.

The young man stopped short when they reached the house, “I ain’t comin’ in just now,” he said decidedly.

When Marilla was in the house she always answered the door bell. Bridget protested she could not run up and down so much and she didn’t always hear it. Miss Florence came now.

“Oh, Marilla, what’s the matter?”

“Jack has run off down the street. And, oh, Miss Florence” – ending in a fit of crying.

“What is the matter? Did you lose the money?”

“Oh, no, here is everything and the change. But Jack–”

“Come upstairs and tell us.” Miss Florence opened the bag, counted the change, took out the parcels and a note.

“Why, what is this?”

“The man told me to bring it home. I held Jack’s hand tight all the way down to the store and gave the girl the bag because I couldn’t open it with one hand. She took out the money and put in the parcel and gave it to me and said, ‘Wait for the change.’ When it came she handed it to me and turned away, and when I was putting it in the bag Jack ran off. You know how the paths go in and out. I looked and looked and saw him over at the toy counter, but before I could reach him he snatched a lot of things and ran, and the girl went after him, too, and then he threw them down and stamped on them and ever so many people came and the man was very angry–”

Marilla cried as if her little heart had been broken. Miss Florence handed the note to her sister who had been listening in amaze.

“Marilla,” began Florence, “you have done the errand very well. Don’t cry, child. We shouldn’t have let Jack go with you.”

Mrs. Borden’s face turned very red. “A great fuss about sixty-seven cents. Accidents will happen.”

“But throwing them down and stamping on them was no accident, Amy. That child is dreadful. He doesn’t mind Marilla when he is out of our sight, hardly when he is in it. And I don’t know what the babies would do without her.”

They began to cry now. They always cried together and lustily.

“Where’s Jack?” asked his mother.

“He ran down the street.”

“Don’t worry about Jack, Marilla; you go down and get the babies’ bread and milk ready.”

Marilla went and of course told the mishap to Bridget.

“That young’un ’ll get in prison some day; you see! He’s a rascal through and through, a mean dirty spalpeen, a holy terror! And if they set to blaming you, I’ll threaten to leave; that I will.”

“You don’t think they’ll send me back to Bethany Home?” in a distressed tone.

“They’d be big fools to! I don’t know where they’d get another like you. If that Jack was mine, I’d skin him alive and hang him out bare naked, the mean little thief! And the missus knows he’s bad through and through.”

Marilla took the basin of dinner upstairs. The babies had hushed their crying and gave a sort of joyous howl at the sight. Florence had talked her sister-in-law into a more reasonable view of the case. Then the babies were fed and comforted and sat on the blanket with playthings about them. They could climb up a little by chairs, but they were too heavy for much activity.

Mrs. Borden picked up her slipper and went down stairs, opening the front door. Jack was slowly sauntering back and she beckoned to him. He had begun to think it was feeding time as well as the babies.

“I was gone, to put ’em back – ” he began —

She took off his pretty coat and then she did spank him for good. Meanwhile the bell rang for lunch. She put him on a chair in the end of the parlor and said —

“Now you sit there. If you dare to get up you’ll get some more. And all the lunch you can have will be a piece of bread without any butter.” And she left the door open so she could see if he ventured down.

But after the bread he went up stairs and straight to Marilla.

“You old tell tale! You’ll be rid on a rail and dumped in the river,” and he kicked at her.

“The man sent a note–”

“Jack,” interposed his mother sternly.

Then the babies were bundled up and carried down stairs, well wrapped up for their ride. Manila enjoyed the outing when she didn’t have Jack. She went down again by the stores. There were two she delighted in, book and stationery stores. One window was full of magazines and papers, and she read bits here and there. She was so fond of reading and she would piece out the page she read with her own imaginings. She always staid out two hours, more when it was pleasant, and brought back the babies, rosy and bright eyed.

“Jack,” and his father took him on his knee that evening, “you have been a very bad boy today. You have been a thief. Suppose the man had sent you to the Station House?”

“I wouldn’t a’ gone.”

“Well, you would have had to. Thieves break laws and are sent to prison. And there you broke up the toys. You must never go in a store again without your mother.”