A Catholic fair was to be held in Petersburg, but as dearly as we loved Father Mulvey (all Petersburg loved him), and as much as we longed to do everything possible for our poor little Church of St. Joseph, we could not go to the fair rooms and sell things and make merry. We were in deep mourning; mother said that our going was out of the question. Then her old friend, Mrs. Winton, came out to persuade and convince.
“I really can not let the girls go,” mother protested. “They can make fancy articles and send them to the fair, or do any home work that you can put them to; we are willing to help just as much as we can. I will send pickled oysters and shrimp salad after my Norfolk recipes, and cake and cream and anything you like that I can make.”
“We want the oysters and the salad and the cake and everything else you choose to send, but above all things we want the girls. I didn’t come here for your pickled oysters and shrimp salad, if they are the best I ever tasted. I want Milicent and Nell—I want Nell for my booth and Milicent for Mrs. Lynn’s. Mrs. Lynn has set her heart on Milicent—but, there! Mrs. Lynn may do her own begging. Do let me have Nell.”
“My dear, I don’t see how I can.”
“Oh, you must! We really need them. You know how few girls there are in our little congregation.”
Mother was too good a Catholic not to yield—Milicent and I were given over to the cause of St. Joseph’s.
“But they are to work, not to amuse themselves,” she stipulated. “They are not to promenade—just to stand behind tables and sell things.”
“Just send them,” pleaded Mrs. Winton. “I’ll promise not to let them enjoy themselves. I’ll keep Nell busy, and Mrs. Lynn will do her duty by Milicent.”
But work is fun when you are young enough, and there was plenty of both in getting the booths ready. The old Library Hall on Bollingbrook Street was a gay and busy scene for several days before it was formally opened to the public who came to spend money and make merry.
On one never-forgotten morning the hall was filled with matrons and maidens weaving festoons of pine-beard, running cedar, and ivy. I had purposely donned my worst dress, and was sitting on the floor Turkish fashion, with evergreens heaped around me, when I saw a party of gentlemen entering the hall.