Chapter One

by Sallie Chester
Edited by Amber Moeller

The Swallows had company, and Norah's head ached so very hard that she left the kitchen and went up stairs to bed. It was right in the middle of the morning before she had finished washing the breakfast dishes or made any preparation for dinner.

Mamma sat down in a kitchen chair and began to feel quite like giving up housekeeping and running off into the woods to hide; for she was very particular about this company in the parlor, and had intended that the dinner should go off beautifully in honor of them. "Dear me! What shall I do?" said Mamma Swallow.

"Now, mamma pet, don't you neber mind," said Bobby comfortingly. "I can help lots."

Mamma kissed his little fat fingers and told him they would have to grow bigger first.

"But, Bobby dear, if you really want to help me, I'll tell you how you can," said she. "Your hands are too little to do me any good about getting dinner, but if they keep out of mischief all day it will help along wonderfully. If you're not a naughty boy once today, that will make mamma's work ever and ever so much easier."

"Yes'm," said Bobby.

"But about that dinner. Lizzie's quite a little woman to work; if I only had her here. Can't you and Gracie run down to the school and tell Miss Perry that mamma would like to have Lizzie excused for today?"

"Only Gracie's locked up in the storeroom weading," said Bobby, "and she won't even speak frew the keyhole."

"Tell her I want her right away," said mamma.

"I can't possibly come," Gracie answered to Bobby's call. "I'm busy."

"How dare you speak so?" shouted Bobby through the keyhole. "You better look out if I go and tell mamma you won't tome."

"I'm very occupied," said Gracie.

"You've dot to do down to Miss Perry's school to get Lizzie to work. You'd just better hurry up, Gracie Swallow!"

"I a'n't coming!" screamed Gracie. "I am reading a story 'bout a boy what climbed the plum-tree Sunday, and I'm going to find out if he fell down and got killed for it; and I a'n't coming till I've finished, Bobby Swallow. Now so!"

"He didn't get killed," said Bobby. "I know the tory. Most all the books mamma reads me have dot it in. He just broke his back for his livelong life. That's all. Now you know it; so tome along."

"I don't believe it," said Gracie. "The boy what went fishing Sunday got drowned dead."

"He's another feller," said Bobby.

"Well, I a'n't coming," said Gracie.

"You're bad," said Bobby.

"I a'n't," said Gracie.

"You're mean to your poor mamma, wiv' all the work to do, and Norah sick. A'n't you ashamed not to come help!"

Gracie did begin to feel ashamed but she went on with her make-believe reading. Her book was an old cookery-book, and she pretended that the short receipts were nice little chapters, and that all the talk about butter and sugar and eggs and flour was a story about a boy by the name of Samuel Jones.

"You can't truly wead," screamed Bobby. "You're putting on."

"It's just as good," said Gracie.

"Mamma is calling," said Bobby. "Why, Gracie Swallow, has you forgot to be good? And you teaching Marnie Pierce to be good all this time, too?"

There was silence for a moment, and then Gracie unlocked the door and put her head out. "I did forget," she said, "but I didn't mean do."

Looking up just then, Gracie saw mamma smiling at her from the other end of the hall.

"I heard," said mamma. "You're a good little girl now, dear, and I'm glad, for that's the way you are going to help me today - by being good. The child who is the best will help along most."

Gracie ran and gave her mamma a hug and pulled her face down so that she could kiss her pink cheeks, then she snatched Bobby's hand and told him to come on.

After they had got their hats and started down the street Gracie said,

"No matter about finishing that story, Bobby. I'll let it go the way you said. Samuel can break his back for good, and maybe that's as bad anyway as getting killed. It's very wicked to go up a plumtree Sunday, Bobby."

"I know dat," said Bobby. "Guess I know you can't do it wivout getting killed or your back broke."

As they hopped along hand in hand towards Miss Perry's school, they fell to wondering whether the children out of books, as well as those in books, always paid for Sabbath-breaking with broken limbs or loss of life. They discussed the matter all the way, but could not come to conclusion, so they decided to ask Lizzie, for Lizzie was seven years old and very wise, and would be sure to know.

To be continued ...

« Return to Helping Mamma