Molly Brown's Post-Graduate Days Part 12

"Well, you look more rounded, somehow. Then I notice you keep your pumps on and don't kick them off every time you sit down; and when you do sit down you don't always lie down as you used to do. Now, I have always been a grown-up little old lady, but you were a child when you left college last June, and now you are a beautiful, dignified woman."

"Nonsense, Nance, I am exactly the same. I don't kick off my pumps because I might have a hole in the toe of my stocking, and I don't lie down when I sit down because of my good tailored skirt. You are just fancying things. I am the same old kid. It is thanks to Judy that I have the tailor-made dress and the other things that make me feel grown-up.

You see, my family have always had an idea that I did not care for clothes just because I wore the old ones without complaining. One day Kent spoke of my indifference to clothes to Judy, and she fired up and told him I did love clothes and would like to have pretty ones more than any girl she knew of; that I pretended to be indifferent just to carry off the old ones with grace. Kent was very much astonished and the dear boy insisted on my going into Louisville before Judy left and having a good tailor make me two dresses, this blue one for every day and my lovely best gray. I was so afraid of hurting Miss Lizzie Monday's feelings (she is the little old seamstress who has made my clothes ever since I was born); but Kent fixed that up by going to see Miss Lizzie himself, asking her advice and requesting her company into Louisville, where we did the shopping and interviewed the tailor, had lunch at the Watterson and took in a show in the afternoon. Miss Lizzie had the time of her life and was as much pleased over my having some good clothes as I am myself. Dear old Kent had to draw on his savings that he is putting by with a view to taking a finis.h.i.+ng course on architecture, but mother says she is going to reimburse him just as soon as there is a settlement made for the oil lands we are selling."

"Do you know, Molly, when I got your letter telling me about Mr. Kean's nosing out oil on your place, I was so happy and excited that I began to cry and got my nose so red I had to skip a lecture at Chautauqua, which shocked my mother greatly. To think of your dear mother having an income that will make her comfortable and independent!"

"Mother does not seem to be greatly elated over it. She is very glad to pay off the mortgage on Chatsworth; relieved that we shall not have to sell our beautiful beech woods; but money means less to my mother than any one in the world, I do believe. Why, talking about my being a kid, I was born more grown-up than my mother, in some ways. It's the Irish in her. The Irish are all children."

Molly had very cleverly got Nance off of the subject of there being a change in her, but Nance was right. Molly was older, and she felt it herself. The summer had been an eventful one for her and had left her older and wiser. Mildred's marriage; Jimmy Lufton's proposal, or near proposal; the family's change of fortune; Professor Green's evident preference for her society; all these things had combined to sober her in a way.

"I am as limber as ever, and don't feel my age in my 'jints,' but I am getting on," thought Molly. "Nance sees it, and I wonder if Professor Green notices it. He seemed a little stiff with me, but seeing him for the first time in cla.s.s might account for that."

The cla.s.s in Domestic Science was proving of tremendous interest both to Molly and Melissa. Melissa had much to learn and Molly much to un-learn.

It was a special course, and for that reason girls from all cla.s.ses were mixed in it. There were quite a number of Juniors, and Molly was sorry to see Anne White among them, as she had been on the platform at Wellington when Melissa arrived, and, in the quiet way for which she was famous in making trouble, had been the one to start the t.i.tter that had grown, as that seemingly unconscious young G.o.ddess made her way down the platform, into a wave of laughter. Melissa had been fully aware of the amus.e.m.e.nt she had caused, but she had borne no malice against the thoughtless girls.

"I reckon I was a figure of fun to these rich girls," Melissa said to Molly, "but I know they did not mean to be unkind; and if they knew what it means to me to come to college perhaps they would look at me differently. Anyhow, you were so nice to me from the very minute I spoke to you; and even before I spoke, Molly, dear, because I saw your sweet eyes taking me in as I came up the platform between the rows of grinning students. And I said to myself, 'All these are just second-growth timber and don't count for much. That girl with the blue eyes and the pretty red hair looking at me so kindly is the only tree here that is worth much.' And somehow I have been resting in the shade of your branches ever since."

This little conversation was held one morning as the girls were getting their materials ready for some experimental bread-making. A tremendously interesting lecture on yeast had preceded it, and now was to be followed by various chemical experiments. The lecturer had not arrived, but had appointed certain students to get the materials in order.

Anne White was one of the monitors, and was moving around in a demure way, daintily setting out the little bowls of flour and portions of yeast. Anne White was a small, mousy-looking, brown-haired young woman who looked as though b.u.t.ter would not melt in her mouth, but who was in reality often the ring-leader in many foolish escapades. She was a great practical joker, and when all is told a practical joker is a very trying person, and very often a person lacking in true humor. As she placed the bowls of yeast, she sang the following song with many sly looks at Molly and her friend:

"The first time I saw Melissa, She was sitting in the cellar, Sitting in the cellar sh.e.l.ling peas.

And when I stooped to kiss her, She said she'd tell her mother, For she was such an awful little tease.

Oh, wasn't she sweet? You bet she was, She couldn't have been any sweeter.

Oh, wasn't she cute? You bet she was, She couldn't have been any cuter.

For when I stooped to kiss her, She said she'd tell her mother, For she was such an awful little tease."

The singing was so evidently done for Melissa's benefit that Molly felt indignant.

"I can't stand teasing, and certainly not such silly teasing as Anne White delights in. She is a slippery little thing, and I have an idea means mischief for my Melissa. I wish Judy were here to circ.u.mvent her, but since she is not I shall have to keep my eye open." So thought Molly, and accordingly opened her eyes just in time to see Anne White raise the cover of Melissa's bowl of flour and drop in something. The instructor came in just then and the cla.s.s came to order.

"It can't do any real harm," thought Molly, "because we don't have to eat our messes, but if it is something to embarra.s.s Melissa I shall have a talk with Anne White that she will remember all her days. She knows Melissa and I are not the kind to blab on her, the reason she is presuming in this way."

Miss Morse, the Domestic Science teacher, was so exactly like the advertis.e.m.e.nts in the magazines of various foodstuffs that one was forced to smile. She was always dressed in immaculate linen, and, as she would stand at her desk and hold out a sample of material with which she was going to demonstrate, her smile and expression were always those of the lady who says, "Use this and no other." She was thoroughly in earnest, however, and scientific, and her lectures on Domestic Economy were really thrilling to Molly, who always took an interest in household affairs and was astonished to find out what a waste was going on in all American homes. Melissa listened to every word, and felt that the knowledge she was gaining in this branch of college work was perhaps the most necessary of all to take back to her mountain people.

Miss Morse had the most wonderful and capable hands that were ever seen.

She was never known to spill anything or slop over; she used her scales and measures with the precision of an a.n.a.lytical chemist; and, no matter how complicated the experiment, there were no extra, useless utensils.

This in itself is worth coming to college to learn, as I have never known a girl make a plate of fudge without getting every pan in the kitchen dirty. Later on in the course of lectures this wonderful woman actually killed a fowl and picked and dressed it right before the eyes of the astonished girls, without making a spot on her dress or on the cloth spread on her desk, and she did not even turn back her linen cuffs.

"I wish Ca'line could see that," thought Molly on that occasion, a picture of the chicken pickin' in the back yard at Chatsworth coming before her mind's eye, with feathers flying hither and yon and Ca'line herself covered with gore.

"Now, young ladies," said the precise Miss Morse, "enough flour is given each one for a small loaf of bread; the right amount of water is measured out; salt and sugar; lard and yeast. You have the correct material for a perfect loaf. This is a demonstration of yesterday's lecture. Remember, salt r.e.t.a.r.ds the action of yeast and must not be put in until the yeast plant has begun to grow. Sugar promotes the growth and can be placed in the warm water with the yeast."

The students went eagerly to work like so many children with their mud pies. In due course of time each little loaf was made out and put at exactly the right temperature to rise. Miss Morse explained to them the different methods of bread-making and the fallacy of thinking that good bread-making is due to luck. Molly smiled in remembering what dear old Aunt Mary had said about remembering to put the gumption in.

While the bread was rising and baking the girls were allowed to work on their Domestic Science problem, a pretty difficult one requiring all their faculties: it was how to feed a family consisting of five, mother and father and three children, on ten dollars for one week. The market price of food was given and their menus were to be worked out with regard to the amount of nourishment to be gained as well as the suitability of food. Miss Morse told them they would have to study pretty hard to do it, but it was splendid practice. Poor Melissa was having a hard time. In the first place, she knew so little about food, having been brought up so very simply, and then, she confided to Molly, she was very much worried about her loaf of bread because it didn't do just right.

Finally the time was up, and the bread, too, according to science, should have been up and ready to bake. The monitors were requested to place the loaves in the gas ovens, already tested and proved to be of proper temperature. The problems, meantime, must be completed at once and handed in.

A wail from Melissa on the aside to Molly: "Oh, Molly, Molly, I have got my family all fed for six days, and I forgot Sunday. Not a cent of money left from all of that ten dollars, and I have known whole families live for a month on less in the mountains! What shall I do?"

"I tell you," said Molly, stopping a minute to think, "have them all invited out to Sunday dinner and let them eat no breakfast in antic.i.p.ation of the good things they are expecting; and let the dinner be so delicious and plentiful that they can't possibly want any supper."

"Good," said Melissa, ever appreciative of Molly's suggestions, "I'll do that very thing." And so she did; and Miss Morse was so amused that she let it pa.s.s as a very good paper, as indeed it was.

All of the little loaves were baked and placed in front of the girls, the pans being numbered so that each loaf returned to its trembling maker. It was strange that in spite of science the loaves did not look exactly alike. Molly's was beautiful, but had she not had her hand in Aunt Mary's dough ever since she could climb up to the table and cut out little "bis'it wif a thimble"? Some of them looked b.u.mpy and some stringy, but poor Melissa's was a strange dark color and had not risen.

"Miss Hathaway, did you follow the directions in your experiment?"

"Yes, Miss Morse, to the best of my ability," answered Melissa. And, then flus.h.i.+ng and becoming excited, she dropped into her familiar mountain speech. "Some low-down sneak has drapped some sody in we'un's pannikin. I mean, oh, I mean, some ill-bred person has put saleratus in my little bowl. I have been raised on too much saleratus in the bread, and I know it." And the proud mountain girl, who had not minded the laughter caused by her appearance, burst into tears over the failure of her bread-making and fled from the room.

Miss Morse was shocked and sorry that such a scene should have occurred in her cla.s.s, but was determined to investigate the matter. She dismissed the cla.s.s without a word; but, as Molly was leaving the room, she requested her to stop a moment.

"Miss Brown, this is a very unfortunate thing to have occurred in this cla.s.s. Domestic Science seems to be an easy prey to the practical joke, and when once it is started it is a difficult matter to weed out. I am particularly sorry for it to have been played on Miss Hathaway, who is so earnest and anxious to learn. Miss Walker has told me much about her, and the girl's appearance alone is fine enough to interest one. I could not help seeing by your countenance, which is a very speaking one, my dear, that you knew something about this so-called joke. Now, Miss Brown, I ask you as a friend to tell me what you know, and, if you are not willing, I demand it of you as an instructor and member of the faculty of Wellington."

Molly, who had been as pale as death ever since Melissa's mortification and outbreak, now flushed crimson, held her breath a minute to get control of her voice, and then answered with as much composure as she could muster: "Miss Morse, I have gone through four years at Wellington and have happened to know of a great many sc.r.a.pes the different students have got themselves in, but never yet have I been known to tell tales, and I could hardly start now. I do know who did the dastardly trick, and am glad that Melissa had recourse to her native dialect to express her feelings about the person who was mean enough to do it; 'low-down sneak'

is exactly what she was."

"Very well, Miss Brown, if you refuse to divulge the name of the joker, I shall be forced to take the matter up with the president. I hoped we could settle it in the cla.s.s. This department being a new one at Wellington, and also my first experience at teaching, I naturally have some feeling about making it go as smoothly as possible." This time Miss Morse was flushed and her lip trembling.

Molly felt truly sorry for her, and suddenly realized that Miss Morse, with all of her a.s.surance, was little more than a girl herself. As for taking it up with the president, Molly smiled when she remembered the time Miss Walker had tried to make her tell, and when she had refused how Miss Walker had hugged her.

"Oh, Miss Morse, I am so sorry for you, and wish, almost wish, some one had seen the offence besides myself, some one who would not mind telling; but I truly can't tell, somehow I am not made that way. There is something I can do, though, and that is, go call on the person myself and put it up to her to refrain from any more jokes in your cla.s.s. I meant to see her, anyhow, and warn her to let my Melissa alone."

"Would you do that? I think that would be all that is necessary, and I need not inform the president. I thank you, Miss Brown. You do not know how this has disturbed me."

"Too much 'sody' in the bread is a very disturbing thing," laughed Molly. "I remember a story they tell on my grandfather. He had an old cook who was very fond of making b.u.t.termilk biscuit, and equally fond of putting too much soda in them. He stood it for some time, but one morning when they were brought to breakfast as green as poor Melissa's loaf, grandpa sent for the cook and made her eat the whole panful.

Needless to add, she was cured of the soda habit. It would be a great way to cure the would-be joker if we made her eat Melissa's sad loaf."

Molly did see Anne White that very afternoon, making a formal call on her and giving that mousy young woman a talk that made her cry and promise to play no more jokes in Domestic Science cla.s.s, and to apologize to Melissa for the mortification she had caused her. Molly told her something about Melissa and the struggle and sacrifices she had made to get her education, and before she had finished Anne White was as much interested in the mountain girl and as anxious for her to succeed as Molly herself. She promised to help her all she could, and a Junior can do a great deal to help a Freshman. Molly was astonished to find that Anne White was really rather likable. She had a mistaken sense of fun, but was not really unkind.

Melissa had too much to do to brood long over her outbreak, and laughed and let the matter drop out of her mind when the following apology was poked under her door:

"My Dear Miss Hathaway: I am truly sorry to have caused you so much mortification in the Domestic Science cla.s.s. It was a very foolish, thoughtless act, and I hope you will accept my apology. I wish I had found such a friend in my freshman year as you have in Molly Brown.

"Sincerely yours, "'A Low-Down Sneak.'"

CHAPTER III.-HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF.

Molly and Nance were very busy with their special courses, Nance working at French literature as though she had no other interest in the world, and Molly at English and Domestic Science.

"Thank goodness, I shall not have to tutor! Since we 'struck ile' I am saved that," said Molly one day to her roommate, who was as usual occupied, in spite of its being "blind man's holiday," too early to light the gas and too late to see without it. "Nance, you will put out your eyes with that mending. I never saw such a busy bee as you are.

Melissa tells me you are going to help her with a dress, too."

"Yes, I am so glad she will let me. I told her how we made the Empire gown for you in your Freshman year, and she seemed to feel that if her dear Molly allowed that much to be done for her, it was not for her to object to a similar favor. I know you will laugh when I tell you that I am going to get a one-piece dress and an extra skirt for s.h.i.+rtwaists out of the blue homespun. It is beautiful material, spun with an old-fas.h.i.+oned spinning wheel and woven on a hand loom by Melissa's grandmother. Did you ever see so much goods in one dress? It seems that the dear woman who has taught her everything she knows has not had any new clothes herself for ten years, and could not give her much idea of the prevailing fas.h.i.+on; and Melissa made this dress herself from a pattern her mother had used for her wedding dress. I hate to cut it up.