The Corner House Girls Snowbound Part 7

The lawyer joined in the laugh. But he was none the less anxious about Ralph and Rowena Birdsall. There was an undercurrent of feeling in his mind, too, that he had been derelict in his duty toward his wards.

"Three months after their father died, and I had not seen them," he said more than once. "I blame myself. As you say, Ruth, I should have won their confidence in that time."

"Oh, Mr. Howbridge, you are not to blame for that! You are unused to children, anyway."

"But it was selfishness on my part--arrant selfishness, Frank's children should have been my personal care. But, twins!" and he groaned.

One might have been amused by his bachelor horror of the thought of two children in his quiet home; only the situation was really too serious to breed laughter. Two twelve-year-old children striking out into the world for themselves might get into all sorts of mischief and trouble.

The lawyer had done all he could, however, toward recovering the runaways. The police of two States were on the watch for them, and private detectives were likewise hunting for them. The advertis.e.m.e.nts Mr. Howbridge put in the papers brought no helpful replies. There seemed to be many children wandering about the country, singly and in pairs, but none of them answered at all the description of the Birdsall twins.

Meanwhile the Christmas holidays were approaching. Cecile Shepard arrived at the old Corner House a week ahead of the date set for the closing of school. Luke, however, would join the party at Culberton, at the foot of Long Lake, nearly at the far end of which, and deep in the woods, was Red Deer Lodge.

Cecile was a very pretty girl, as dark as Agnes was light. She went to school every day with Agnes and sat beside her as a "visitor" during the remainder of the term.

Of course, there was much to do to prepare for this mid-winter venture into the woods. And, too, there were certain plans for Christmas to be carried out by the Corner House girls, whether they were to be at home on Christmas Day or not.

The Stower estate tenants on Meadow Street must not be forgotten.

CHAPTER V

MERRY TIMES

Uncle Peter Stower, in dying and leaving his four grandnieces the Milton property, had left them, in addition (or so Ruth Kenway and her sisters concluded), the duty of overlooking the welfare of certain poor people who occupied the Stower tenements on Meadow Street, over toward the ca.n.a.l.

These tenants were mostly poor people; but Mrs. Kranz, who kept a delicatessen store and grocery, and Joe Maroni, whom Dot said was "both an ice man and a nice man" were two of the tenants who were well-to-do.

Joe Maroni, whose family lived in the corner cellar under Mrs. Kranz's store, sold coal and wood, as well as ice, and had a vegetable and fruit stand on the sidewalk. Mrs. Kranz, the large German woman, was one of the Kenway girls' staunchest friends. Both these shopkeepers were sure to aid the Corner House sisters in their plans for Christmas.

The year before the children of the Stower estate tenants had appeared under the bedroom windows of the old Corner House early on Christmas morning and sung Christmas chants.

"Agnes said, just as though it was in old fuel times," Dot eagerly told Cecile Shepard. "And Aggie wanted to throw large yeast cakes among 'em. You know, like Lady Bountiful did, and--"

"Oh! _Oh!_ OH!" gasped Tess, in horror and amazement. "Why will you, Dot, mix up your words so? It wasn't fuel times, it was feudal times."

"And why throw away the yeast cakes?" demanded Cecile, in amused wonder.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Tess, with vast disdain. "She means _largess_.

That means gifts. Dot thought it was 'large yeast.' I never did hear of such a child!"

"Well, I don't care!" wailed Dot, who did not like to be taken to task for misp.r.o.nouncing words, or for other mistakes in English. "I don't think you are at all polite, Tessie Kenway, and I'm going to tell Ruth--so now!"

Which proved that even the little Corner House girls had their little spats. Everything did not always go smoothly.

However, the plans for the entertainment of the Meadow Street families were made without any trouble. It was decided to have a great tree for the whole crowd, and to set it up in a small hall on Meadow Street, where certain lodges held their meetings, the date set for the entertainment being a week in advance of Christmas Eve--the night before the Corner House party was to start for Red Deer Lodge.

Mrs. Kranz took charge of the dressing of the tree, for when she was a child in the old country a Christmas tree was the great annual feast.

Not a child among those belonging in the Stower tenements was forgotten--nor the grown folk, either, for that matter.

Tess and Dot did their share in the purchasing of the presents and preparing them for the tree. They both delighted in shopping, and their favorite mart of trade was the five and ten cent store on Main Street.

Such a jumble of things as they bought! The beauty of buying in the five and ten cent store is (or so the children declared) that one can get so much for a dollar.

Every afternoon for a week before the day set for the pre-Christmas celebration, the little folks trudged down to their favorite emporium and came back with their arms laden with a variety of articles to delight the hearts and eyes of the Meadow Street children.

Dolls and dolls' toys were of course Dot's favorite purchases. Tess went in for the more practical things--some to be hung on the tree marked with her own private card for the grown-up members of the expected audience.

In any case, and altogether, there was gathered at the old Corner House to be hung on the Christmas tree for the Meadow Street people a two-bushel basket of little packages, mostly from the five and ten cent store.

Ruth and Agnes saw to it that there were plenty of practical things for the poor children, too: warm coats, caps, leggings, shoes, mittens--a dozen other useful things which would be needed by the younger Goronofskys, the Pedermans, the O'Harras, and all the rest of the conglomerate crew occupying the Stower tenements.

And they had _four_ "Santa Clauses"! Although, more properly speaking, they were "the Misses Santa Claus." The Kenway sisters, in the prescribed uniforms of the good St. Nicholas, presided over the distribution of the presents from the illuminated tree.

Dot had every faith in the reality of Santa Claus, nor would her sisters disabuse her of that cheerful belief.

"But, of course," the smallest Corner House girl said, "I know Santa can't be everywhere at once. And this is a week too early for him, anyway. And on Christmas Eve he does have to rush around so to get to everybody's house!

"We're just going to make believe be Santa, Sammy," she explained to that small boy. "And we're not going to be like you were last Christmas, Sammy, and fall down the chimney and frighten everybody so."

"Huh!" grumbled Sammy, to whom his fiasco as a Santa Claus in the old Corner House chimney was a sore subject. "If that old brick hadn't fallen I wouldn't have come down so sudden. And my mom burned my Santa Claus suit up in the furnace because it was all over soot."

This night in the Meadow Street hall was long to be remembered. Mr.

Howbridge made a speech. It was a winter when work was hard to get, and at Ruth's personal request he announced that a dollar a month would be taken off every tenant's rent during the "hard times."

Mrs. Kranz and Joe Maroni, being in so much better circ.u.mstances than the majority of the Stower estate tenants, gave many things for the Christmas tree, too. There was candy, and cakes, and popcorn, and nuts for the little folk, and hot drinks and cake and sandwiches for the adults.

Altogether it was a night long to be remembered by the Corner House girls. Even the little ones had begun to understand their duty toward these poor people who helped swell the Kenway family bank account. The estate might not now draw down the fifteen per cent. that Uncle Peter Stower always demanded; but the income from the Meadow Street tenements was considerable, and the tenants were now happier and more content.

"It must be lovely," Cecile Shepard confessed to Ruth and Agnes, "to have so many folks to look out for, and be kind to, and who like you.

And Ruthie has such a way with her. I can see the women all admire her."

Agnes began to giggle. "Who wouldn't admire her?" she said. "Ruth believes in helping folks just the way they want to be helped. She doesn't furnish only flannels and cough sirup to the poor. Oh, no!"

"Now, Agnes!" admonished the older girl, blus.h.i.+ng.

"I don't care! It's too good a joke, and it shows just why those people over on Meadow Street wors.h.i.+p Ruth," went on the younger sister. "Did you see that biggest Pederman girl? Olga, the one with the white eyebrows and no lashes?"

"Yes," said Cecile. "Her face looks almost like a blank wall."

"And a white-washed wall at that," went on Agnes. "She's a grown woman, but she hasn't any too much intelligence. She was awfully sick with diphtheria last spring, and Ruth went to see her--carrying gifts, of course."

"Things to eat don't much appeal to you when you have diphtheria and can't swallow," put in Ruth.

"I know that," chuckled Agnes. "And what do you think, Cecile? Ruthie asked Olga what she would like to have--if she could get her anything special?