“But surely—si! si!” exclaimed the man. “I lik-a have nice place. I keep good-a fruit—good-a vegetable. Da wife, she clean an’ scr-r-rub—oh, yes! But poor man live in da cellar not lik-a da reech dat live in da fine house.”
Ruth sighed. With such little experience as she had had, she knew the man’s words to be true. The Kenways had lived among poor people themselves and knew how hard it was to keep an old tumble-down tenement in nice order.
Maria came dancing out in what was evidently her gala frock. It was pretty and neatly made, too. She ran to the sink and washed her face and hands. Then she came to Ruth for her approval.
“You’re a pretty girl,” said Ruth, kissing her. “You can help a lot, too, by keeping your brothers and sisters clean.”
“Oh, yes, Ma’am! I make them wash up every day before they go to school. But there is no school now,” said Maria.
The visitors went out of the cellar with Maria. The other children eyed them curiously, but smilingly. Poverty set well upon these Italians, for they smiled at it!
“Now we shall go in and see Mrs. Kranz,” said Ruth to Agnes. “Goodness only knows what she will say to us. Come, Maria,” and she took the little girl’s hand.
[CHAPTER XIV—FIVE CENTS’ WORTH OF PEPPERMINTS]
“Vell! vell!” was the German lady’s greeting when the girls entered the shop. “You gome quick back to see me already, eh? I am glad.”
She came forward and kissed Agnes and then Ruth. But she halted as she was about to stoop to Maria.