“Do have some of this Cloverdale honey,” said the Judge, “it is delicious.”
“Now, Judge, you think I want sweetening,” she said, with a mischievous twinkling of her black eyes, “but you’ve got to hear all my troubles. Let me see, what was the next thing? O, yes, I know—and this, too, before I was out of bed. Daisy calls through the door, ‘Mrs. Everest, the footman from Miss Sally Draylittle’s is here. He says that his lady says that the Angora cat she bought from your cat farm is going round with its leg hanging loose. What shall she do?’”
Dallas, who was listening to Berty, began to laugh.
“I don’t wonder you laugh,” said Berty, indignantly. “Did you ever hear of such a helpless woman trying to run an establishment? ‘Tell the footman to tell Miss Draylittle to send for a good veterinary. The cat has probably broken her leg.’ Then let me see, what came next? I’ve got to tell you quickly while I’m cross about it, for when I get cool I shall be ashamed of myself for telling my trials, even to such dear friends as you all are.”
“You in your work are hampered by inefficient persons in places of trust,” said the Judge, philosophically.
“That’s it in a nutshell,” said Berty. “Why, the average person doesn’t seem to think. My next call was to go to see a sick woman. She wasn’t sick; she was troubled and uneasy. Her husband had left home in a temper the night before and hadn’t come back. She frightened me and I frightened her. She poured out her woes to me, and I said, ‘I don’t blame him. If I were your husband I wouldn’t come back for a week.’ The poor creature stared at me. ‘Why, look about you,’ I said. ‘Look at this dirty room, this filthy room. How could a man sit down in it with self-respect. Stop your crying and clean it.’ And do you know, Judge, I couldn’t make her see it was dirty. I sent for two men and had her moved bag and baggage into two clean rooms in that house you were good enough to buy for my poor people; and now the question is, will she have sense enough to keep it clean?”
“Reform is losing some of its rosy hues to you,” the Judge observed, sententiously.
Berty laughed. “Please give me some more honey, and just you try criticising River Street. Then you will find out where baby gets his temper. I scold those people frightfully, but I love them. Titus, are you coming to live on River Street with me when you get to be a man?” and she turned to the boy.
“No, but perhaps I can help you,” he said, modestly. “I was thinking that on that stock farm grandfather is going to let me have there will be plenty of room for some cottages for poor sick folks, and I would like to have some of the children out every day.”
“You dear,” she said, enthusiastically; then as he began an animated conversation with Titus on the subject of farming she remarked in a low voice to the Judge, “Why, that boy has stopped stammering, hasn’t he?”