Lovey Mary | Page 6

houses for the most part, where men were
rolling barrels about or stacking skins and hides on the sidewalk.
"Do you know what sort of a store they sell ducks at?" asked Lovey
Mary of a colored man who was sweeping out an office.
"Ducks!" repeated the negro, grinning at the queerly dressed children in
their round straw hats. "Name o' de Lawd! What do you all want wif
ducks?"
Lovey Mary explained.
"Wouldn't a kitten do jes as well?" he asked kindly.
"I want my ducky," whined Tommy, showing signs of returning storm.

"I don' see no way 'cept'n' gwine to de mahket. Efen you tek de cah you
kin ride plumb down dere."
Recent experience had taught Lovey Mary to be wary of street-cars, so
they walked. At the market they found some ducks. The desired objects
were hanging in a bunch with their limp heads tied together. Further
inquiry, however, discovered some live ones in a coop.
"They're all mama ducks," objected Tommy. "I want a baby ducky. I
want my little ducky!"
When he found he could do no better, he decided to take one of the
large ones. Then he said he was hungry, so he and Mary took turn
about holding it while the other ate "po' man's pickle" and wienerwurst.
It was two o'clock by the time they reached the avenue, and by four
they were foot-sore and weary, but they trudged bravely along from
house to house asking for work. As dusk came on, the houses, which a
few squares back had been tall and imposing, seemed to be getting
smaller and more insignificant. Lovey Mary felt secure as long as she
was on the avenue. She did not know that the avenue extended for
many miles and that she had reached the frayed and ragged end of it.
She and Tommy passed under a bridge, and after that the houses all
seemed to behave queerly. Some faced one way, some another, and
crisscross between them, in front of them, and behind them ran a
network of railroad tracks.
"What's the name of this street?" asked Lovey Mary of a small, bare-
footed girl.
"'T ain't no street," answered the little girl, gazing with undisguised
amazement at the strange-looking couple; "this here is the Cabbage
Patch."
[Illustration: "'T ain't no street...; this here is the Cabbage Patch.'"]
CHAPTER III

THE HAZY HOUSEHOLD
"Here sovereign Dirt erects her sable throne, The house, the host, the
hostess all her own."
Miss Hazy was the submerged tenth of the Cabbage Patch. The
submersion was mainly one of dirt and disorder, but Miss Hazy was
such a meek, inefficient little body that the Cabbage Patch withheld its
blame and patiently tried to furnish a prop for the clinging vine. Miss
Hazy, it is true, had Chris; but Chris was unstable, not only because he
had lost one leg, but also because he was the wildest, noisiest, most
thoughtless youngster that ever shied a rock at a lamp-post. Miss Hazy
had "raised" Chris, and the neighbors had raised Miss Hazy.
When Lovey Mary stumbled over the Hazy threshold with the sleeping
Tommy and the duck in her arms, Miss Hazy fluttered about in dismay.
She pushed the flour-sifter farther over on the bed and made a place for
Tommy, then she got a chair for the exhausted girl and hovered about
her with little chirps of consternation.
"Dear sakes! You're done tuckered out, ain't you? You an' the baby got
losted? Ain't that too bad! Must I make you some tea? Only there ain't
no fire in the stove. Dear me! what ever will I do? Jes wait a minute; I'll
have to go ast Mis' Wiggs."
In a few minutes Miss Hazy returned. With her was a bright-faced little
woman whose smile seemed to thaw out the frozen places in Lovey
Mary's heart and make her burst into tears on the motherly bosom.
"There now, there," said Mrs. Wiggs, hugging the girl up close and
patting her on the back; "there ain't no hole so deep can't somebody pull
you out. An' here's me an' Miss Hazy jes waitin' to give you a h'ist."
There was something so heartsome in her manner that Lovey Mary
dried her eyes and attempted to explain. "I'm tryin' to get a place," she
began, "but nobody wants to take Tommy too. I can't carry him any
further, and I don't know where to go, and it's 'most night--" again the
sobs choked her.

"Lawsee!" said Mrs. Wiggs, "don't you let that worry you! I can't take
you home, 'cause Asia an' Australia an' Europeny are sleepin' in one
bed as it is; but you kin git right in here with Miss Hazy, can't she, Miss
Hazy?"
The hostess, to whom Mrs. Wiggs was