As the shadows lengthened and the sun began to go down toward the west the house rapidly assumed the look it would have when it was finished. A good deal of the work, of course, was roughly done. There was no smoothing off of rough edges, but all that could be done later.
And then, as the end of the task drew near, so that the watchers on the ground could see what the finished house would be like, Mrs. Pratt, already overwhelmed by delight at the kindness of her neighbors, had a new surprise that pleased and touched her, if possible, even more than what had gone before. A new procession of wagons came into sight in the road, and this time each was driven by a woman.
And what a motley collection of stuff they did bring, to be sure! Beds and mattresses, bedding, chairs, tables, a big cook stove for the kitchen, pots and pans, china and glass, knives and forks—everything that was needed for the house.
“We just made a collection of all the things we could spare, Sarah Pratt,” said sprightly little Mrs. Harkness, a contrast indeed to her huge husband, who could easily lift her with one hand, so small was she. “They ain’t much on looks, but they’re all whole and clean, and you can use them until you have a chance to stock up again. Now, don’t you go trying to thank us—it’s nothing to do!”
“Nothing?” exclaimed Mrs. Pratt. “Sue Harkness, don’t you dare say that! Why, it means that I’ll have a real home to-night for my children—we’ll be jest as comfortable as we were before the fire! I don’t believe any woman ever had such good neighbors before!”
Long before dark the house was finished, as far as it was to be finished that day. And, as soon as the men had done their work, their wives and the Camp Fire Girls descended on the new house with brooms and pails, and soon all the shavings and the traces of the work had been banished. Then all hands set to work arranging the furniture, and by the time supper was ready the house was completely furnished.
“Well,” said Eleanor, standing happily in the parlor, “this certainly does look homelike!”
There was even an old parlor organ. Pictures were on the wall; a good rag carpet was on the floor, and, while the furniture was not new, and had seen plenty of hard service, it was still good enough to use. The Pratt home had certainly risen like a Phœnix from its ashes. And tired but happy, all those who had contributed to the good work sat down to a bountiful supper.