The Story of Patsy | Page 3

car across. The
truckmen all drove slowly, calling "Hi, there!" genially to any
youngster within half a block.
And it was a pleasant scene enough to one who had a part in it, who
was able to care for simple people, who could be glad to see them
happy, sorry to see them sad, and willing to live among them a part of
each day, and bring a little sunshine and hope into their lives.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Donohue! All safely across?"
"All safe, miss! Sorry you troubled to come down, miss. I can be
depended on for this corner, miss, an' ye niver need bother yerself
about the childern after ye've once turned 'em loose, miss. An' might I
be so bold, seein' as how I might not have a better chance--would ye be
so kind as to favor me with yer last name, miss? the truth bein' that
ivery one calls ye Miss Kate, an' the policemen of this ward is gettin' up
rather a ch'ice thing in Christmas cards to presint to ye, come Christmas,
because, if ye'll excuse the liberty, miss, they do regard you as
belongin' to the special police!"
I laughed, thanked him for the intended honor, which had been
mentioned to me before, and gave him my card, not without a spasm of

terror lest the entire police force should invade my dwelling.
The "baker lady" across the street caught my eye, smiled, and sent over
a hot bun in a brown paper bag. The "grocery lady" called over in a
clear, ringing tone, "Would you be so kind, 'm, as to step inside on your
way 'ome and fetch 'Enry a bit of work, 'm? 'Enry 'as the 'ooping cough,
'm, and I don't know 'owever I'm goin' to keep 'im at 'ome another day,
'm, he pines for school so!"
I give a nod which means, Certainly!
Mrs. Weiss appeared at her window above the grocery with a cloth
wound about her head; appeared, and then vanished mysteriously. Very
well, Mr. Weiss,--you know what to expect! I gave you fair warning
last time, and I shall be as good as my word! Good heavens! Is that--it
can't be--yes, it is--a new McDonald baby at the saloon door! And there
was such a superfluity of the McDonald clan before! One more
wretched little human soul precipitated without a welcome into such a
family circle as that! It set me thinking, as I walked slowly back and
toiled up the steps. "I suppose most people would call this a hard and
monotonous life," I mused. "There is an eternal regularity in the
succession of amusing and heart-breaking incidents, but it is not
monotonous, for I am too close to all the problems that bother this
workaday world,--so close that they touch me on every side. No
missionary can come so near to these people. I am so close that I can
feel the daily throb of their need, and they can feel the throb of my
sympathy. Oh! it is work fit for a saviour of men, and what--what can I
do with it?"
I sank into my small rocking-chair, and, clasping my arms over my
head, bent it upon the table and closed my eyes.
The dazzling California sunshine streamed in at the western windows,
touched the gold-fish globes with rosy glory, glittered on the brass
bird-cages, flung a splendid halo round the meek head of the Madonna
above my table, and poured a flood of grateful heat over my shoulders.
The clatter of a tin pail outside the door, the uncertain turning of a knob
by a hand too small to grasp it: "I forgitted my lunch bucket, 'n had to

come back five blocks. Good-by, Miss Kate." (Kiss.) "Good-by, little
man; run along." Another step, and a curly little red head pushes itself
apologetically through the open door. "You never dave me back my
string and buzzer, Miss Kate." "Here it is; leave it at home to-morrow if
you can, dear,--will you?"
Silence again, this time continued and profound. Mrs. Weiss was
evidently not coming to-day to ask me if she should give blow for blow
in her next connubial fracas. I was thankful to be spared until the
morrow, when I should perhaps have greater strength to attack Mr.
Weiss, and see what I could do for Mrs. Pulaski's dropsy, and find a
mourning bonnet and shawl for the Gabilondo's funeral and clothes for
the new Higgins twins. (Oh, Mrs. Higgins, would not one have sufficed
you?)
The events of the day march through my tired brain; so tired! so tired!
and just a bit discouraged and sad too. Had I been patient enough with
the children? Had I forgiven cheerfully enough the seventy times seven
sins of omission and commission?