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Updated: May 15, 2025
Nance looked at him apprehensively. "Well, we better be doin' something'," she said. "Can't Uncle Jed help us?" "I ain't goin' to let him. He's paid my rent fer the last time." This unexpected flare of independence in Mr. Snawdor was disturbing. The Snawdor family without Uncle Jed was like a row of stitches from which the knitting needle has been withdrawn.
And ably assisted by the bolster and the bedspread, she gave a masterly imitation of her stout stepmother that made the original limp with laughter. Then quite as suddenly, Nance collapsed into a chair and grew very serious. "Say!" she demanded earnestly, "honest to goodness now! Do you think there's any sin in me going on the stage?" "Sin!" repeated Mrs. Snawdor. "Why, I think it's elegant.
Dan did not seem to see her hand any more than he saw her fresh shirt-waist and the hat she had taken so much pains to retrim. After a casual nod he stood looking at the floor and rubbing the toe of his heavy boot against his blow-pipe. "Sure," he said slowly, "but this is no fit place for a girl, Mrs. Snawdor." Mrs. Snawdor bristled immediately. "I ain't astin' yer advice, Dan Lewis.
"Not yet." "Lots of changes since the old days. Mr. Snawdor and Fidy and Mrs. Smelts and Mr. Demry all gone. Have you heard about Mr. Demry?" Dan shook his head. He was not listening to her, but he was looking at her searchingly, broodingly, with growing insistence. The hammering of the type-writer was the only sound that broke the ensuing pause.
"I sort 'er thought of joining the ballet onct myself," said Mrs. Snawdor, with a conscious smile. "It was on account of a scene-shifter I was runnin' with along about the time I met your pa." "You!" exclaimed Nance. "Oh! haven't I got a picture of you dancing. Wait 'til I show you!"
Snawdor's bedroom at the rear. This plan, pursued day after day, with the general understanding that Mrs. Snawdor was going to take a day off soon and clean up, had resulted in a condition of indescribable chaos. As Mr. Snawdor and the three younger children slept in the rear room at night, and Mrs. Snawdor slept in it the better part of the day, the hour for cleaning seldom arrived.
It was only Mr. Snawdor who sought to uphold her, and Mr. Snawdor was but a broken reed. Meanwhile the all-important question of getting work was under discussion. Miss Stanley had made several tentative suggestions, but none of them met with Mrs. Snawdor's approval. "No, I ain't goin' to let you work out in private families!" she declared indignantly. "She's got her cheek to ast it!
Purdy's cottage, but looked instead toward the immaculate and austere bedroom of Miss Stanley, with its "Melodonna" over the bed and a box of blooming plants on the window-sill. Such an ideal of classic simplicity was foredoomed to failure. Mrs. Snawdor, like nature, abhorred a vacuum.
The childern are plumb crazy 'bout it." "Nance is gittin' awful pretty," Mrs. Smelts said. "I kinder 'lowed Dan Lewis an' her'd be makin' a match before this." Mrs. Snawdor gathered her skirts higher about her ankles and transferred her base of operations to a lower step. "You can't tell nothin' at all 'bout that girl. She was born with the bit 'tween her teeth, an' she keeps it there.
Gorman, being a chronic recipient of civic favors, advocated an appeal to the charity organization; Mrs. Snawdor, ever at war with foreign interference, strongly opposed the suggestion, while Mrs. Smelts with a covetous eye on the gilt mirror under Dan's arm, urged a sidewalk sale.
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