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When, instead, Berene toasted the bread for Mrs Connor, and poured the coffee and placed it on the kitchen table with her own hands, the heart of the wash-lady melted in her ample breast. When the heart of the daughter of Erin melts, it permeates her whole being; and Mrs Connor became a secret devotee at the shrine of Miss Dumont. She had never entertained cordial feelings toward the Baroness.
I chanced to be out early this morning on an errand for mother, taking some things over to that sick colored wash-lady we have do our weekly work, and passing through the public square on my way back I saw a crowd around Kramer's place. Of course I stayed on the job, and heard all sorts of things said. But, Hugh, they've got one of the thieves, all right."
During the time when Mrs Connor was the ambitious "wash-lady" at the Palace, Berene Dumont came to live there; and every morning when the young woman carried the tray down to the kitchen after having served the Baroness with her breakfast, she offered Mrs Connor a cup of coffee and a slice of toast.
With a sigh at his latest misfortune he returned home for another hat, and the agitated wash-lady, imagining that the devil had doubtless been lured by her beautiful gown, made haste to sell it to a Chinaman who lived next door. Its bright colors pleased the Chink, who ripped it up and made it over into a Chinese robe, with flowing draperies falling to his heels.
It was a good bargain for both of them, and the wash-lady being colored that is, she had a deep mahogany complexion was delighted with her gorgeous gown and put it on the very next morning when she went to deliver the wash to the brick-layer's wife.
Mr Cheney always had a kind word for the laundress, and a tip as well; and when Mrs Connor's dream of seeing him act the part of the Prince and Berene the Cinderella of a modern fairy story, ended in the disappearance of Miss Dumont and the marriage of Mr Cheney to Mabel Lawrence, the unhappy wash-lady mourned unceasingly.
The wash-lady was always seated with the family at table, and besides her wage was presented with a pie, a pumpkin, or some outgrown garment. Thus were the Christian virtues liberated. Where the gray mare is the better horse, her mate always lets up a bit on his whiffletree and she draws most of the load. It was so here. The mother planned for the household.
"I am so glad to see you! Will you please go for help for me?" "Why, certainly I will," answered the bunny gentleman. "But what kind of help do you want; help for the kitchen, or a wash-lady help or " "Neither of those," said Mother Goose. "I want help so Little Jack Horner can get his thumb out of the pie." "Get his thumb out of the pie!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "What in the world do you mean?"
I was the wash-lady there, for it's not Mrs Conner the landlady as is above spakin' of the days when she wasn't as high in the world as she is now; and many is the cheerin' cup of coffee or tay from your own mother's hand, that I've had in the forenoon, to chirk me up and put me through my washing, bless her sweet face; and niver have I forgotten her; and niver have I ceased to miss her and the fine young man that took such an interest in her and that I'm as sure loved her, in spite of his marrying the Judge's spook of a daughter, as I am that the Holy Virgin loves us all; and it's a foine man that your father must have been, but young Mr Cheney was foiner."
"Now, I have you!" hissed the snake like a steam radiator in Uncle Wiggily's left ear. "I'm going to squeeze you to death and then eat you," and he began to squeeze that poor rabbit just like the wash-lady squeezes clothes in the wringer. "Oh, my breath! You are crushing all the breath out of me!" cried Uncle Wiggily. "Please let go of me!"
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