Mary Cary
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mary Cary, by Kate Langley Bosher This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: Mary Cary "Frequently Martha"
Author: Kate Langley Bosher
Release Date: April 6, 2005 [EBook #15571]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARY CARY ***
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
MARY CARY _"FREQUENTLY MARTHA"_
BY Kate Langley Bosher
FRONTISPIECE BY FRANCES ROGERS
NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS
Published By Arrangement With Harper & Brothers
COPYRIGHT, 1910 BY HARPER & BROTHERS PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TO VIRGINIA
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE I. AN UNTHANKFUL ORPHAN 1 II. THE COMING OF MISS KATHERINE 14 III. MARY, FREQUENTLY MARTHA 27 IV. THE STEPPED-ON AND THE STEPPERS 39 V. "HERE COMES THE BRIDE!" 50 VI. "MY LADY OF THE LOVELY HEART" 61 VII. "STERILIZED AND FERTILIZED" 70 VIII. MARY CARY'S BUSINESS 75 IX. LOVE IS BEST 85 X. THE REAGAN BALL 97 XI. FINDING OUT 103 XII. A TRUE MIRACLE 120 XIII. HIS COMING 133 XIV. THE HURT OF HAPPINESS 141 XV. A REAL WEDDING 155
MARY CARY
I
AN UNTHANKFUL ORPHAN
My name is Mary Cary. I live in the Yorkburg Female Orphan Asylum. You may think nothing happens in an Orphan Asylum. It does. The orphans are sure enough children, and real much like the kind that have Mothers and Fathers; but though they don't give parties or wear truly Paris clothes, things happen, and that's why I am going to write this story.
To-day I was kept in. Yesterday, too. I don't mind, for I would rather watch the lightning up here than be down in the basement with the others. There are days when I love thunder and lightning. I can't flash and crash, being just Mary Cary; but I'd like to, and when it is done for me it is a relief to my feelings.
The reason I was kept in was this. Yesterday Mr. Gaffney, the one with a sunk eye and cold in his head perpetual, came to talk to us for the benefit of our characters. He thinks it's his duty, and, just naturally loving to talk, he wears us out once a week anyhow. Yesterday, not agreeing with what he said, I wouldn't pretend I did, and I was punished prompt, of course.
I don't care for duty-doers, and I tried not to listen to him; but tiresome talk is hard not to hear--it makes you so mad. Hear him I did, and when, after he had ambled on until I thought he really was castor-oil and I had swallowed him, he blew his nose and said:
"You have much, my children, to be thankful for, and for everything you should be thankful. Are you? If so, stand up. Rise, and stand upon your feet."
I didn't rise. All the others did--stood on their feet, just like he asked. None tried their heads. I was the only one that sat, and when he saw me, his sunk eye almost rolled out, and his good eye stared at me in such astonishment that I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it, I truly couldn't.
I'm not thankful for everything, and that's why I didn't stand up. Can you be thankful for toothache, or stomachache, or any kind of ache? You cannot. And not meant to be, either.
The room got awful still, and then presently he said:
"Mary Cary"--his voice was worse than his eye--"Mary Cary, do you mean to say you have not a thankful heart?" And he pointed his finger at me like I was the Jezebel lady come to life.
I didn't answer, thinking it safer, and he asked again:
"Do I understand, Mary Cary"--and by this time he was real red-in-the-face mad--"do I understand you are not thankful for all that comes to you? Do I understand aright?"
"Yes, sir, you understand right," I said, getting up this time. "I am not thankful for everything in my life. I'd be much thankfuller to have a Mother and Father on earth than to have them in heaven. And there are a great many other things I would like different." And down I sat, and was kept in for telling the truth.
Miss Bray says it was for impertinence (Miss Bray is the Head Chief of this Institution), but I didn't mean to be impertinent. I truly didn't. Speaking facts is apt to make trouble, though--also writing them. To-day Miss Bray kept me in for putting something on the blackboard I forgot to rub out. I wrote it just for my own relief, not thinking about anybody else seeing it. What I wrote was this:
"Some people are crazy all the time;
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.