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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Don't let him hear you catalogue him as a child," said the boy's mother, smiling. "I must do nothing to neglect my own brood. Yet I feel that I must earn money. Gummy's wages will not even feed us. And it will last only until September. He must go back to school again then." "Then come and see daddy," urged Janice. "You know he'll be more than glad to have you.
But even if Gummy's trousers were patched at the knees, as Stella Latham had pointed out, they were patched neatly, and his linen was fresh. Of course, nobody called on Mrs. Carringford; at least, almost nobody. The rickety little cottage in Mullen Lane did not attract callers by its outward appearance, that was sure.
"Laugh; I really wanted Gummy to take a nom de plume, or whatever it is they call 'em." "An alias, I guess it would be, in Gummy's case," said her father. "And wouldn't he?" "No," said Janice, shaking her head. "Gummy seems to think that he's in honor bound to stick up for his name. That is what he says." "Amen! Some boy, that!" "He's a nice boy," declared Janice. "You'll see. And he got the job."
One of the fireman with a portable extinguisher rushed upstairs, got out at the small window and reached Gummy's side quickly. "Good boy, kid," he said. "Let's give it the lad," and he began to squirt the contents of the fire extinguisher down the chimney. Gummy staggered back and sat down, coughing. His face and hands were pretty black and he was breathless.
Gummy's cheerful voice demanded: "What's the trouble, girls?" "Oh!" cried Janice. "Goodness!" said the boy's sister. "How you scare one, Gummy! Why, it isn't near time to go home." "I got off earlier than I expected. So I came out and have been hanging around at the back here for half an hour." "Oh. Gummy! did you see that woman?" Janice asked, seizing his jacket sleeve. "What woman?"
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