AS a matter of fact there wasn’t a cake left. Neither doughnut nor gingersnap; hardly a crumb to tell the successful tale. Nettie surveyed the empty shelves the next morning in astonishment. She had been too busy the night before to realize how fast things were going. Naturally the number and variety of dishes in the Decker household was limited and the evening to Nettie was a confused murmur of, “Hand us in some more cups.”
“Can’t you raise a few more teaspoons somewhere?” “Give us another plate,” or, “More doughnuts needed;” and Nettie flew hither and thither, washed cups, rinsed spoons, said, “What did I do with that towel?” or, “Where in the world is the bread knife?” or, “Oh! I smell the coffee! maybe it is boiling over,” and was conscious of nothing but weariness and relief when the last cup of coffee was drank, and the last teaspoon washed.
But with the next morning’s sunshine she knew the opening was a success. She counted the gains with eager joy, assuring Jerry that they could have twice as much gingerbread next time.
“And you’ll need it,” said Norm. “I had to tell half a dozen boys that there wasn’t a crumb left. I felt sorry for ’em, too; they were boarding-house fellows who never get anything decent to eat.”
Already Norm had apparently forgotten that he was one who used frequently to make a similar complaint.
There was a rarely sweet smile on Nettie’s face, not born of the chink in the factory bag which she had made for the money; it grew from the thought that she need not hide the bag now, and tremble lest it should be taken to the saloon to pay for whiskey. What a little time ago it was that she had feared that! What a changed world it was!
“But there won’t be such a crowd again,” she said as they were putting the room in order, “that was the first night.”
“Humph!” said that wise woman Susie with a significant toss of her head; “last night you said we mustn’t expect anybody because it was the first night.”
Then “the firm” had a hearty laugh at Nettie’s expense and set to work preparing for evening.