The Comings of Cousin Ann Part 11

What is it?"

"What's the reason we can't get little Judy a dress over to Louisville? Us old men can all chip in an' it wouldn't amount to mor'n a good nights losin' at poker."

"She's right proud. Do you reckon she'd get her back up and decline to accept it?" asked Judge Middleton.

"Not Judith. She's not the kind to be hunting slights, but suppose we send it to her anonymous like and pretend her fairy G.o.dmother had something to do with it," suggested Pete.

"And who's gonter buy it? We don't want any of the Ryeville women in on this," said Colonel Crutcher.

"I got another idee," said Pete. "Let's get the motormen to get their wives down at the other end to shop for us. I was talkin' to one only this mornin' an' he said Miss Judy cooked the best dinner he ever et an' I'm pretty sure they'd be glad to help us out."

"But they might help us out too gaudy like."

"Gee, they couldn't go wrong if we told them it must be white--white with a blue sash."

"I'd like it to be white tarlatan or something thinnish and gauzy like and kind of stand-outy without being stand-offish."

"And I think a few gold beads, kind of tr.i.m.m.i.n.g it up, would be becoming to our debutante."

"And we ought to get her slippers and stockings to match."

"How about the size?"

That was a stumper until Pete Barnes had another idee, and that was that old Otto Schmidt, the trusty shoe repairer of Ryeville, might know. He did. In fact, even then he had a pair of Judith's shoes to be half soled.

"She's schlim and long," said Otto, "five and a half touble A."

So five and a half double A it was. "And make 'em gold," suggested the Colonel.

The motorman approached was delighted to undertake the commission. "My wife's pretty grateful not to have to be worrying herself to death about my supper and she'll be tickled stiff to have a chance to go spend some money even if it isn't for herself. She used to be saleslady in the biggest shop in Louisville, before she married me.

She's just about Miss Buck's size, too," he said.

Minute directions were given the kindly motorman as to the dress being white and thinnish and standoutish, with a blue sash and gold bead tr.i.m.m.i.n.g, the slippers long and slim and gold.

"A blue ribbin for her hair, if you don't mind, too," said Pete Barnes. "I been always a holdin' that there ain't anything so tasty as a blue ribbin in a gal's hair."

"They don't wear ribbons in their hair any more," said Major Fitch. "I believe they all are using tucking combs nowadays."

"Well, then, I give in. Our gal must be stylish, but I'd sure like a blue ribbin in her hair. Get her a good tuckin' comb then."

The ball was to be on Friday. Judith's mind was so full of it she found it difficult to attend to her many self-imposed duties.

"Actually, Mumsy, I tried to sell anti-kink to a bald-headed white man. I really believe I shall have to give up my peddling job until after the ball is over," she said.

Mrs. Buck had entered only half-heartedly into the plan of going to the ball, and had agreed to go only because Judith had pleaded so earnestly with her. Her best and only black silk must be taken out and sunned and aired and pressed.

"I declare, I've had it so long the styles have caught up with it again," she exclaimed.

"Well, I wish I could say the same for my white muslin," sighed Judith. "I've a great mind to wear it hind part before, to make a little change in it. Anyhow, I intend to have just as good a time in it as though it were white chiffon, embroidered in gold beads. My white pumps aren't so bad looking. I'll take time to-morrow to shampoo my hair. Do you know, Mumsy, Cousin Ann Peyton's wig is just the color of my hair. Poor old lady! Pity she can't lose it!"

It was Thursday night. The day's work was over, the last dish from the motormen's supper washed and put away and Mrs. Buck and her daughter were having a quiet chat, seated on the side porch. It was a pleasant spot, homelike and comfortable. It was on this porch that the summer activities of the farm were carried on. Here they prepared fruit for preserving and even preserved, as a kerosene stove behind a screen in the corner gave evidence. Here they churned, in a yellow cradle churn, and worked the b.u.t.ter.

"It saves the house if you can do most of your work in the open," Mrs.

Buck had said.

Judith had stretched a hammock across the corner of the porch, and now she was allowing herself to relax for awhile before going to bed. She pushed herself gently to and fro with one slender foot on the porch floor, and looked out dreamily over the fields flooded with moonlight--fields bought by her grandfather Knight from her grandfather Buck, inherited by him from his father, who had inherited from his father. Each generation had done what it could to impoverish the land and never to improve it. Now it was up to her, nothing but a slip of a girl nineteen years old, to buy guano and bring the land back to its original value.

"Ho, hum! If Grandfather Buck hadn't wasted so much and Grandfather Knight hadn't saved so much I could put my earnings in a new georgette dress to wear to the old men's debut ball," she sighed.

A few vehicles pa.s.sed the house--now an old-fas.h.i.+oned buggy, now a stylish touring car--each one leaving a trailing cloud of limestone dust.

"Listen, Judith, I heard the gate click."

"Nothing but an owl clucking, Mumsy. I heard it, too, but n.o.body would be coming to see us this time of night."

"It might be some young beaux coming to see you," suggested Mrs. Buck.

"You'd have plenty of them if you weren't so--so--businesslike."

Judith laughed merrily. "Well, I reckon they'd come anyhow if they wanted to, but I must say, Mumsy, I'm kind of sn.o.bbish about your so-called beaux. I might like the boys if they would only stop being so silly and understand that I'm a human being with a mind and soul. I reckon I've always been too busy to play much with the boys around Ryeville. The old men like me though."

"That's not getting anywhere," complained Mrs. Buck, who frankly hoped for a husband for her daughter, although her own matrimonial venture had not been any too successful.

"That was a knock!" insisted the mother a moment later. Judith jumped up from the hammock. "I'll go outside and see who it is."

"Indeed you won't! If it's callers you've got to receive them in the house. Just light the lamp in the parlor and then open the door. I ain't fit to see anybody so I won't go in."

Judith did as her mother directed, lit the lamp in the parlor and then cautiously opened the door. n.o.body was there, but a large dress box was leaning against the door and fell into the hall when the door was opened. The girl picked it up and carried it into the parlor.

"Mumsy! Come quick! I don't know what it is but it isn't a beau. Never mind your dress, but just come!"

The string was broken by eager young hands, although Mrs. Buck begged to be allowed to pick out the knots. The top of the box was s.n.a.t.c.hed off, disclosing much white tissue paper with a folded note pinned in the center.

"It must be flowers," cried Judith. "I'm so excited I can't make up my mind to take off the wrappings.

"Well, read the note! It's addressed to you," said Mrs. Buck.

"It says: 'To Miss Judith Buck, from her old fairy G.o.d-fathers.' Oh, Mumsy, my old men are sending me some flowers, to wear to the ball, I guess. I'll clip the stems to keep them fresh."

"Well, why don't you open 'em up?"

Layer by layer Judith removed the tissue paper. At last the precious contents of the box were revealed--a white chiffon dress, delicately broidered with tiny gold beads, with a twisted girdle of blue with cloth of gold, a dainty blue comb set with brilliants. In a separate wrapper at one end of the box, gold slippers and stockings were discovered.

"Oh, Mumsy! I'm going to cry," and Judith did shed a few tears and sob a few sobs.

"Surely you are not going to accept clothes from any man, Judith."

Mrs. Buck's tone was stern and disapproving.

"Of course not from any one man, but this is from about ten men--the dear old men who are giving the ball! I wouldn't be so mean as not to accept this gift. What's more, I'm going to try the things on this minute. Look! There's even a silk slip to wear under it. Whoever bought this outfit knew how to buy. Mumsy, Mumsy! The slippers fit.

Oh, I'm a real Cinderella, but the best thing about it is that the old men must truly love me, the dears."