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Then once more Evangeline: "But I shall never have any." "Any pigs?" smilingly. "Children. Not any. I've decided I'll rest. They're such a care. But of course I can run in an' undress Stefana's an' Elly Precious's mercy gracious, Elly Precious's!" It required too great a mental effort to visualize them. Elly Precious's children were funny! Evangeline giggled softly.
I wish we could take back Stefana's tears." "You mean you ain't goin'?" "I ain't goin'," repeated Miss Theodosia, tremulously smiling. "Japan! I wouldn't go to six Japans!" "Then take it off o' our arms, quick! You take off Carruthers', Stefana. I'll undo Elly Precious's. Oh, goody! Oh, mercy gracious, I feel 's if we ought to take hold o' hands an' an' wave!"
As Orlando spoke of Stefana's visit to his son, Sacco's name was mentioned. Then, without another word, the two men exchanged a smile. A rumour was current that the Minister of Agriculture, lately deceased, would perhaps not be replaced immediately, and that another minister would take charge of the department pending the next session of the Chamber.
She felt pleasant little tweaks at her heartstrings as if small grimy hands were ringing them, playing a tender little tune. Scorched, blundering young hands Stefana's. The little tune rang plaintive in her ears. She had a vision of Stefana toiling over the ironing of her dresses and going to bed exhausted, when the toil was over.
I guess I kind of mixed you up, didn't I? You see, what I meant was, could I make Stefana's birthday cake over here to your house where she can't hear me stirrin'?" "Oh, Stefana's birthday! That is why she was 'born to-morrow." "Yes'm, in a thunder storm. I've heard Mother tellin'. It will have to be a graham cake." "A what kind of cake, Evangeline?
She even smiled at her sodden fingers when had Miss Theodosia Baxter's fingers been sodden before! The next morning, the child and the childlier child appeared at her porch, where she rocked contentedly. "She's ironin' 'em! Stefana's ironin' 'em! No, I can't sit down; she said not to. She's ironed one dress three times. It's funny how irons stick, isn't it? No, not funny mercy gracious!
"Funny Stefana! she goes to my heart, she and her starch when they're asleep!" But, awake, Stefana's starch went to Miss Theodosia's back and aching bones. It was three o'clock when she was ready to go to bed. Over chairs and the couch in her sitting-room, lay the three redeemed white dresses, soft again and very smoochless and smooth. Miss Theodosia stood and admired.
"With but a single thought. Make them with but a single thought beat them as one. There! I'm perfectly sober and sane now. It's a fine little cake, and I'm not worthy to write poetry for it. Longfellow Shakespeare Whitcomb Riley we'll canvass them. Don't think I'm not respectful to Stefana's birthday." "I don't know what you call respect!" she retorted. But she knew the next day.
You oughter see Stefana's cheeks, an' she's burnt both thumbs I'm keepin' Elly Precious out o' the way, an' she's forbid Carruthers comin' in a step. She'll get 'em ironed, Stefana will. You can't discourage Stefana! Last night I kind of thought you could, but the clo'es whitened out beautiful in the night. Stefana said it was the night air.
Elihu Launcelot, at this juncture, toppled over against the little flat breast of his nurse, asleep or in a swoon; Miss Theodosia had her fears. There seemed sufficient swooning cause. "Stefana," she prompted again, her interest advancing at a rapid pace, "and mothers " "Stefana's our oldest. She's goin' to run us while Mother's away. She's got a job before her!
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