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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Are we going to keep them forever, mother?" Maizie asked one afternoon about two weeks after the fire. No one had put in a claim for the children; they were homeless, friendless. What was to be done with them? Mrs. Procter had turned with loathing from the thought of the orphanage. She stood at Maizie's question in deep perplexity.
And Suzanna rose to the occasion. "Maizie," she said, "you know Jesus was born in a manger so His mother didn't have much money and it was hard to make both ends meet. And, besides, there wasn't anything to smile about in those days when the world was so fresh." "I guess that's right," Mrs. Procter agreed.
Procter found a table large enough to accommodate them all. Suzanna sat next to Maizie. "I'm going to have a chocolate ice cream soda," whispered Maizie. "No, you can't, Maizie," Suzanna returned in an agony; "take lemon ice cream soda." "But I don't like it." "Well, that doesn't matter, Maizie.
"That's the way I feel," said Suzanna. Nancy appeared at the door bearing snowy towels which she gave to the children. "Here, children," she said, "the bath room is at the end of the hall, and you must hurry." So Suzanna and Maizie hurried and they were the first downstairs.
So Maizie took her stand while Suzanna labored hard with the pen. An hour passed. Once Suzanna flew downstairs to the kitchen, then returned to her work. At last, Maizie in excited tones announced that her mother and the baby had turned the corner. Suzanna laid down her pen. "Well, it's all finished," she said. Maizie looked at her sister. Now the tears came, blurring the big gray eyes.
The children at this information stared rounder-eyed and then turned to gaze with uncovered awe at Suzanna, the owner. "Do you think, mother," asked Maizie, "that when I'm older I can have a pink dress with no trimming of yours on it?" "We'll see," said Mrs. Procter, who knew how strictly to the letter she was held to her promises. Now Suzanna reluctantly left the dress and went to her mother.
She let Peter's stocking fall to the ground while she clasped her hands ecstatically. "O, Maizie, it's almost too much joy! To wear a flower dress and to recite something that makes you so happy and yet you want to cry too." Maizie nestled a little closer. "Do you think, Suzanna, when the green petticoat's nearly worn, that it'll come down to me?" Suzanna pondered this for a moment.
"I have no reason to believe that Miss Allen has not spoken the truth. This affair seems to consist largely of a misunderstanding, coupled with a good deal of spite work. You will oblige me by giving me the name of the girl who overheard the conversation." Marian did not at once reply. Instead, she cast a hasty, inquiring glance at Maizie.
Suzanna resenting steady days for doing steady tasks; Maizie hating her porridge, and Peter grieved because he couldn't see his ears; the baby too, not his usual sunny self. But set against the strange and varied emotions of her young family, loomed the house with its stern demands upon her.
I may go and play with some of the other girls today, and, remember, if I do that a friend can't get mad like a sister can." Maizie began to whimper. "All right, if you're going to act that way, I am going off to see Drusilla," with which statement Suzanna turned and went downstairs. Maizie came running down after her.
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