“Now Mary Sarah,” she admonished; “you share them out, turn and turn about. Be quite fair. They’re such pretty children,” she remarked to Mrs. Tregennis.
“They did oughter be,” was the reply, “for they be Irish to the very finger-tips.”
Miss Margaret again turned to the group of children. “What have you got, Katie?” and Katie withdrew from her mouth a big bull’s-eye.
With bulging cheek, and somewhat inarticulately, Mary Sarah spoke. “Her do have a shocking bad cold,” she said with the wisdom of three times five; “they mints will be brave an’ good for she.”
This incident made a deep impression upon Tommy. So far the ladies had been his own special property; he had shared them quite occasionally with Ruthie, but with her alone. That Mary Sarah and Katie and the Stevensons should adopt them was by no means in accordance with his wishes. Something must be done, and that something clearly must be the strengthening of his own moral character.
Weeks before Miss Margaret had initiated Tommy into the mysteries of an early morning rite. You first of all clasped hands (right hands it had to be, Tommy’s left was always rejected), and then you said “Good morning,” and smiled, and after that you shook the hands up and down and jumped once to each shake. Both shaking and jumping got quicker and quicker, and at last ended with an abrupt stop, and your arms fell stiffly to your sides.
To Tommy this ceremony had become an integral part of the morning. It was strange, too, how only Miss Margaret knew the proper way. When Miss Dorothea tried to shake hands with him once he found that she had absolutely no knowledge of the right method of procedure and he had been obliged to tell her so.
For three mornings now the ceremony had been neglected. On the Wednesday Tommy determined that it must no longer be omitted, and when he saw Miss Margaret he held out his hand and smiled. Miss Margaret smiled too, took his hand in hers, shook it just once, said “Good morning,” then turned to Mrs. Tregennis and gave orders for the day.
“Why wouldn’t Miss Margaret shake hands with me proper?” he asked afterwards.
“Don’t ee know?” Mammy replied, “I guess I know. You think, my son.”