Mary Louise in the Country | Page 8

are making a mistake to run away from your own
grandfather."
The girl stared into the water in sullen silence for a time. Mary Louise
got a good look at her now and saw that her freckled face might be
pretty if it were not so thin and drawn. The hands lying on her lap were
red and calloused with housework and the child's whole appearance
indicated neglect, from the broken-down shoes to the soiled and
tattered dress. She seemed to be reflecting, for after a while she gave a

short, bitter laugh at the recollection of her late exhibition of temper
and said:
"It's too late to back, down now. I've busted the dishes an' smashed
things gen'rally."
"That is bad," said Mary Louise; "but it might be worse. Mr. Cragg can
buy more dishes."
"Oh, he can, can he? Where's the money comin' from?"
"Is he poor?"
"He ain't got no money, if that's what ye mean. That's what he says,
anyhow. Says it were a godsend you folks rented that house of him,
'cause it'll keep us in corn bread an' pork for six months, ef we're
keerful. Bein' keerful means that he'll eat the pork an' I gits a chunk o'
corn bread now an' then."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mary Louise in a distressed voice. "Don't you
get enough to eat?"
"Oh, I manages it somehow," declared Ingua, with indifference. "I be'n
swipin' one egg a day fer weeks an' weeks. Gran'dad says he'll trim me
good an' plenty if he catches me eatin' eggs, 'cause all that our
chickens lays he takes down to the store an' sells. But he ain't home
daytimes, to count what eggs is laid, an' so I watches out an' grabs one
a day. He's mighty cute, I tell ye, Gran'dad is; but he ain't cute enough
to catch me at the egg-swipin'."
Mary Louise was greatly shocked. Really, she decided, something must
be done for this poor child. Looking at the matter from Ingua's report,
the smashing of the dishes might prove serious. So she said:
"Come, dear, let's go together to your house and see if we can't restore
the damage."
But the girl shook her head.

"Noth'n' can't mend them busted dishes," she said, "an' when Gran'dad
sees 'em he'll hev a fit. That's why I did it; I wanted to show him I'd had
revenge afore I quit him cold. He won't be home till night, but I gotta
be a long way off, afore then, so's he can't ketch me."
"Give it up," suggested Mary Louise. "I've come here to live all summer,
Ingua, and now that we're friends I'm going to help you to get along
more comfortably. We will have some splendid times together, you and
I, and you will be a good deal better off than wandering among
strangers who don't care for you."
The girl turned and looked into Mary Louise's face long and earnestly.
Her eyes wandered to her neatly arranged hair, to the white collar at
her throat, then down to her blue serge dress and her dainty shoes. But
mostly she looked straight into the eyes of her new friend and found
there sincerity and evident good will. So she sighed deeply, cast a
glance at her own bedraggled attire, and said:
"We ain't much alike, us two, but I guess we kin be friends. Other girls
has come here, to the rich people's houses, but they all stuck up their
noses at me. You're the first that's ever give me a word."
"All girls are not alike, you know," responded Mary Louise cheerfully.
"So now, let's go to your house and see what damage has been done."
CHAPTER IV
GETTING ACQUAINTED
The two girls had been sitting on the edge of the bridge, but Mary
Louise now rose and took Ingua's arm in her own, leading the reluctant
child gently toward the path. It wasn't far to the old cottage and when
they reached the yard Ingua laughed again at the scene of disorder.
"It's a'most a pity Gran'dad can't see it," she chuckled. "He'd be so
crazy he'd hev them claws o' his'n 'round my throat in a jiffy."
Mary Louise drew back, startled.

"Did he ever do that?" she asked.
"Only once; but that time near ended me. It were a long time ago, an' he
was sorry, I guess, 'cause he bought me a new dress nex' day--an' new
shoes! I ain't had any since," she added disconsolately, "so the other
day I asked him wasn't it about time he choked me ag'in."
"What did he say to that?"
"Jes' growled at me. Gran'dad's got a awful temper when he's good an'
riled, but usual' he's still as a mouse. Don't say a word to me fer