Mary Rose of Mifflin | Page 7

lots of them, an' the man who owns it
won't let them have any cats or dogs," she hesitated, she hated to say it,
"or childern in it. It's in the lease. A lease is the same as a law."
"Won't have any cats or dogs or children!" Mary Rose's voice was shrill
with astonishment and her eyes were as big as saucers. "Why,
everybody has children! They always have had. Don't you remember,
even Adam and Eve? In Mifflin everyone has children."
"It's different in Waloo. You see the man who owns this house thinks
childern are noisy an' destructive." She tried her best to find an excuse
for the unknown owner. "He doesn't know, of course. He's probably a
cross old bachelor."
"But I'm a child," wailed Mary Rose suddenly. "Wha-what are you
going to do with me?" Her face whitened.
Her aunt put her hand under the little chin and turned Mary Rose's
startled face up so that the two pairs of eyes looked directly into each
other. "You're not a child, Mary Rose. You're a great big girl goin' on
fourteen. Don't ever forget that. If anyone asks you how old you are
you just tell 'em you're goin' on fourteen. That's what you are, you
know."
"Yes," doubtfully. "But I have to go to eleven first and then to twelve
and thirteen----"
"Waloo folks don't care about that," her aunt interrupted quickly. "They

don't care to hear about any but the fourteen. Don't you ever forget."
"I won't," promised Mary Rose solemnly, too puzzled just then to think
it out. "But what about George Washington? He's just a cat." She
looked dubiously at George Washington and shook her head. Nothing
could be made of him but a cat. "An orphan cat!" she added firmly.
"I know, dearie." Aunt Kate's arms tightened around her. "An' I hate to
ask you to give him up. I know you love him but if you keep him here
it may mean that your uncle will lose his job an' if he did that there
wouldn't be any roof over our heads nor bread for our stomachs."
"Oh!" Mary Rose stared at her. "Would that cross old bachelor owner
make him not be janitor?"
Her aunt nodded. "We'll have to find someone to take care of him--just
for a while," she added quickly as she saw two big tears in Mary Rose's
blue eyes. "Some day, please God, we'll have a home where we can
have him with us."
Mary Rose stood very still, trying in vain to understand this strange
world to which she had come, a world where children and cats and
dogs were not considered precious and desirable. Suddenly a bell rang.
"That's Mrs. Rawson," murmured Aunt Kate. "I'll bet she wants me to
run up an' look at her windows again. I'll be right back, Mary Rose,"
she promised as she hurried away to answer the insistent jangle of Mrs.
Rawson's bell.
CHAPTER III
Left alone, Mary Rose caught George Washington to her heart and
stood staring about the room. She shook her head. This might be a
beautiful palace but she was very much afraid that she was not going to
like it. She walked slowly into the next room and then to the kitchen,
whose windows faced the alley.
Across the driveway she could see a broad open space, the yard of a

rambling old-fashioned house. A man was cleaning an automobile and
through the open window Mary Rose could hear his cheery whistle.
There was something about the old-fashioned house and the spacious
yard that reminded Mary Rose of Mifflin, where people loved children
and had pets. The puzzled frown left her face, and clutching George
Washington closer she went out of the back door and across the alley.
"If you please," she said, her heart beating so fast that she was almost
choked, "would you take a cat to board?"
She had to say it a second time before the man heard her. He looked up
in surprise. He had a frank, pleasant face with twinkling eyes and Mary
Rose liked him at once.
"Hullo, brother," he said, quite as cordially as a Mifflin man would
have spoken. "And where did you drop from?"
"I didn't drop," answered literal Mary Rose. "I came across the alley,"
and she nodded toward the big apartment house. It now turned a white
brick face to her. Mary Rose almost forgot her errand when she saw
that. In Mifflin houses were the same color all the way around.
"Why--why, it's two-faced!" she cried. "The front is all red and now the
back is all white. It's just like an enchanted palace."
"It is an enchanted palace," grumbled the man.
Mary Rose flew to his side. "Oh, is there