"By nex' Friday? Course I can." Phrony Jane's face beamed as she thus happily arrived at what she had been aiming for.
All day long she was in such a state of delight that Mrs. Dent began to fear that her little hand-maiden's wits were quite lost. Milk pails were upset and dishes broken, and when the good lady saw Phrony Jane, in the middle of the afternoon, sitting in the swing with the baby in her arms, and singing
"Nobody knows de trubble I hab"
at the top of her voice, she actually began to tremble lest the little thing might meet with some dreadful accident through her nurse's wild excitement. Toward evening, when the day's labors were ended, Phrony Jane announced confidentially to Johnny:
"I's jus' gwine to run up 'n' tell dat Phyl Jackman she ain't de on'y one's got a lawn dress!"
Early the next morning Phrony Jane received news which struck dismay to her heart. Her mother, living two miles away, had broken her leg by a fall, and wanted her. Mrs. Dent packed a basket of comforts which would surely be needed in the shiftless family, and poor Phrony Jane departed in grief, wishing the news had not reached her until after Sunday-school, when she might have heard more about the lawn party.
Johnny had appeared that morning with a suspicious hobble. He had slightly sprained his foot the day before, and had avoided speaking of it through fear of being forbidden to saw brackets, and he had used it so imprudently as now to be unable to hide it any longer. So with a good supply of Sunday reading, a lunch handy in case of need, and many injunctions on the proper keeping of the day, Johnny's papa and mamma left him, each having a Sunday-school class to attend to.
Johnny meant well, but, as is the case with some other boys, needed a little looking after in order to carry out his good intentions. When the stories in the papers were exhausted, and a marvellous amount of gingerbread and milk consumed, he found that Sunday-school-time was not yet over. Church would not be over until after twelve. Coaxing a quarrel between the dog and cat took up ten minutes more, resulting in the cat's springing to the top of the scroll-saw, and scattering in every direction the pieces of work piled there, covered with a towel.
Johnny jumped to pick them up, much concerned at seeing that a slender point of a leaf was broken off one of his pieces of fine work. He thought it might be remedied by being rounded off with the saw. His foot was near the treadle, and the saw almost rose and fell of itself as he shaved the broken place. Then the other side had to be curved to make things even. Then he happened to be just where he was when he had been obliged to quit work the evening before. His foot did not hurt much as still that saw seemed to cut of its own accord into the graceful leaves. On it went, just going to stop every moment, Johnny inwardly assuring himself he never would think of doing such a wicked thing as saw on Sunday, but still following that enticing pattern until he at last stopped in alarm at seeing there was only one leaf more to do. It could not make things worse to finish that. It was done, and Johnny covered the saw feeling more guilty than ever in his life before, and hoping mamma would not look right into his eyes when she came home.