When She Came Home from College

by Marian Hurd McNeely; Jean Bingham Wilson

“You’re Barbara Grafton, I s’pose,” she said in a brisk voice. “I’m Mrs. ’Arris, an’ I’ve come to ’elp you hout.”

I’M MRS. ’ARRIS, AN’ I’VE COME TO ’ELP YOU HOUT

Barbara sat up quickly. “Oh!” she said. “Do you wish a position as cook here?”

Mrs. Harris’s eyes rested upon her with amiable condescension. “I come to ’elp you hout,” she repeated. “I’m Mrs. Brown’s widder sister, and when she told me as ’ow you was left alone and the ’ouse agoin’ to rack and ruin—”

Barbara suddenly stiffened in the hammock.

“Why, she says to me, she says, ‘’Ilda, I’m awful fond of Dr. Grafton, an’ I can’t let ’im starve without proper care while ’is wife’s gone. Now you jest put on your things an’ go up there an’ ’elp hout.’ So I come,” concluded Mrs. Harris, composedly; and she sat down.

The Kid drew nearer, and stared at her from under his mass of tawny hair. “You goin’ to stay here?” he inquired.

“Yes, of course,” answered Mrs. Harris, with a sweeping glance at the little fellow, that took in the holes in the knees of his stockings.