ANNA BALMER
 
 r
 
 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB
 
 The Madonna of 
 the Curb 
 
 By 
 
 ANNA BALMER MYERS 
 Author of "Patchwork" and "Amanda 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 HELEN MASON GROSE 
 
 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1922, by 
 GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved 
 Printed in U. S. A.
 
 To 
 
 ANNA VERONICA FARRINGTON* 
 
 in memory of the days when we worked 
 
 together on Sunset Motintain 
 
 this book is dedicated 
 
 2137479
 
 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 On the curb of a city pavement, 
 
 By the ash and garbage cans, 
 In the stench and rolling thunder; 
 
 Of motor trucks and vans, 
 There sits my little lady, 
 
 With brave but troubled eyes, 
 And in her arms a baby 
 
 That cries and cries and cries. 
 
 She cannot be more than seven ; 
 
 But years go fast in the slums, 
 And hard on the pains of winter 
 
 The pitiless summer comes. 
 The wail of sickly children 
 
 She knows ; she understands 
 The pangs of puny bodies, 
 
 The clutch of small hot hands. 
 
 In the deadly blaze of August, 
 
 That turns men faint and mad, 
 She quiets the peevish urchins 
 
 By telling a dream she had 
 A heaven with marble counters, 
 
 And ice, and a singing fan ; 
 And a God in white, so friendly, 
 
 Just like the drug-store man. 
 
 Her ragged dress is deafer 
 
 Than the perfect robe of a queen ! 
 Poor little lass, who knows not 
 
 The blessing of being clean. 
 And when you are giving millions 
 
 To Belgian, Pole and Serb, 
 Remember my pitiful lady 
 
 Madonna of the Curb ! 
 
 CHRISTOPHER MORLEY. 
 
 (The Author acknowledges zvith thanks permission from Mr. 
 Morley and George Dor an & Co. to print this poem.)
 
 Contents 
 
 L RED ROSE COURT 1 1 
 
 II. THE COUNTERFEITER . . . .25 
 
 III. SUNSET MOUNTAIN 39 
 
 IV. SARAH'S LESSON .... 56 
 V. LETTERS ....... 80 
 
 VI. AFTER Six YEARS MORE LETTERS . 95 
 
 VII. REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER . .114 
 
 VIII. LANCASTER COUNTY . . . .132 
 
 IX. FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION . . . .152 
 
 X. IN THE CHERRY TREE . . . .165 
 
 XI. WORK AND PLAY 180 
 
 XII. LETTERS . 202 
 
 XIII. THE PRODIGAL 215 
 
 XIV. MOUNT GRETNA 231 
 
 XV. THE LOST COTTAGE .... 248 
 
 XVI. A DISCOVERY 263 
 
 XVII. COALS OF FIRE 274 
 
 XVIII. THE HEART OF A RECTOR . . .283 
 XIX. SUSPICION 288 
 
 XX. THE CARDINAL FLOWER . . . 295 
 
 XXL THE CLOUDS ROLLED AWAY . . . 305 
 
 XXII. CHRISTMAS EVE 315 
 
 XXIII. CHRISTMAS MORNING . . . .318 
 
 XXIV. THE GUEST 326 
 
 XXV. THE CIRCLE COMPLETE . . . '.331
 
 Illustrations 
 
 The Madonna of the Curb .... Frontispiece 
 " I won't press mine," she said gaily . Facing page 256 
 " Who wrote this ?" ...." 306
 
 The Madonna of the Curb 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 RED ROSE COURT 
 
 PERHAPS when the great manufacturing city of New 
 Jersey in which Red Rose Court was located was in its 
 infancy, before the tide of business and the spreading 
 factories had swallowed gardens and lawns; perchance 
 then, many years ago, there stood two or three cottages, 
 where in the early summer red roses climbed about the 
 porches or twined their rambling branches along old 
 fences, and gave to the street its perfume-suggesting 
 name. But upon the summer day of this story, Red Rose 
 Court was as dirty, crowded and ill-smelling a habitation 
 of human creatures as exists under God's blue sky. 
 
 Upon each side of the narrow street was a row of 
 dingy houses, beyond and against which tall factories 
 and tenements were built so closely that they formed a 
 rectangle about the place, leaving only one exit from the 
 Court. 
 
 This miserable exit, formed by a six-foot archway be- 
 tween two buildings, opened to a busy thoroughfare 
 where cars and trucks sped on their noisy way. In and 
 out through this alleyway passed those who lived in the 
 dozen houses of Red Rose Court. 
 
 The structures were tumble-down, unsightly, unsani- 
 tary hovels. Shutters hung upon one hinge, broken 
 panes of window glass were replaced by dirty rags. The
 
 12 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB "* 
 
 1. 
 
 cobble-paved street was littered with a collection of 
 boxes, broken furniture, ash cans and garbage pails, the 
 latter spilling their malodorous contents, while from the 
 narrow gutter along one side a stream of nauseous gray 
 water spread, overflowing, and added its horror of damp 
 putridness to the foul stench that vitiated the air in all 
 directions. 
 
 On the side of the street where the shadows afforded 
 a slight relief from the intense heat a number of chil- 
 dren played. Like the houses they were filthy and ill- 
 kept. The oldest, a girl of eleven, sat on the curb and held 
 in her arms a baby, puny, whining and unmistakably ill. 
 The girl's face bent anxiously over the fretting child, 
 which she cradled more comfortably in her arm. 
 
 " Poor kid," the little mother murmured as she rocked 
 back and forth on the curb and crooned tenderly, " Poor 
 kid! It's darned tough on youse young ones in Red 
 Rose Court. Now if it was nice as the name sounds 
 you'd be next thing to heaven, but Red Rose Court is the 
 very hell of a hot hole on a day like this, ain't it, though ! 
 Poor kid, now you shut up your cryin' and Sade'll fix a 
 fan to make you cool. Here, you Jakey, gimme that 
 there rag," she shouted to one of the small boys who 
 was rigging a sailboat from an old shoe and a dirty rag. 
 
 " Ach, Sade, I wants " 
 
 "D'you always get what you wants, eh? You heard 
 what I said gimme that rag." 
 
 She accompanied the words with a wild shake of her 
 head, a shake apparently suggestive of efficient punish- 
 ment waiting for him if he dared disobey. The boy, vis- 
 ibly intimidated, came nearer and held out the coveted 
 rag. 
 
 " Pig of a Dutchman ! " she said as she snatched the
 
 RED ROSE COURT 13 
 
 object from fiis hands and turned to wave it before the 
 face of the gasping babe. Then she dipped the cloth into 
 the dirty water of the gutter and wiped the hot cheeks 
 and forehead of the baby. 
 
 "There, ain't that the ticket?" she said tenderly. 
 " Bet your life Sade can make you cool." 
 
 A feeble laugh from the sick child brought a loud one 
 from the little protectress as she lifted the baby -to a new 
 position on her lap. She began to speak to it as though 
 it were old enough to grasp the meaning of her words. 
 "You little angel, if you was mine I'd take you to the 
 country, I'd take all youse little kids o' Red Rose Court, 
 but 'specially you out to the country where the green 
 grass is growin' and wonderin' why there ain't no babies 
 to roll on it, and where the birds sing you to sleep, and 
 you could splash in a little brook like we read about in 
 school, with ferns and pebbles and forget-me-nots on the 
 banks, and where you could paddle your feet in water 
 that looks like silver. Then I'd put you in a bed all white 
 and cool, like them I see in the store windows, or like 
 them they had in the horspital I was to with your ma that 
 time your pa got hurt in the accident. And I'd have ice 
 in the room to keep it cool, and butterflies wavin' round 
 and f annin' you, and I'd have cold milk and ice-cream for 
 you go on with youse, I was talkin' to the baby," she 
 exclaimed to the other children who had drawn around 
 her as her fancy painted the heaven she'd make for the 
 baby if she could. 
 
 "Ah, Sade, have a heart," spoke up a girl scarcely 
 seven, yet old beyond her years in the language of the 
 slums. " We're a darned sight hotter'n that kid ! Give 
 her back to old lady Maloney, and take us to the park 
 for a walk."
 
 I* THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 "Yeh, do, Sade," shouted the others and swarmed 
 around the girl on the curb. Sade looked down into the 
 hot face of the baby. " Ain't youse got no f eelin's ? 
 Don't you know her ma is workin' this week? I prom- 
 ised Mrs. Maloney I'd keep the kid. Shut up," she said 
 as the baby gave a pitiable little wail, " did you think 
 Sade'd go off and leave you in this hot hole ? " Her 
 words were rough but her voice was as tender as mother- 
 hood itself. " Poor kid, it's a tough deal they're handin' 
 you. But it'll be cool again some day, and while it's hot, 
 believe me, Sade's goin' to make you comfortable. Leave 
 it to Sade ! Come on, everybody that wants to go to the 
 park, we'll get the coach and take the baby." 
 
 A shout greeted her words ; the play in the dirty water 
 was willingly left at the prospect of a visit to the park. 
 
 One of the boys ran for the coach and the girl stood 
 up. She looked like a miserable, forlorn, but devoted 
 Madonna, in that dirty, notorious alley, ironically called 
 Red Rose Court. 
 
 Her full name was Sarah Burkhart, but the only place 
 she ever heard that version of it was at school. To her 
 father, stepmother and the people of Red Rose Court she 
 was Sade. 
 
 Her eleven years had brought her much premature 
 knowledge of the world and its wickedness. Sordidness 
 and squalor, with all their loathsome progeny, formed her 
 environment, and yet, was there not a possibility that the 
 same Nature that roots a lily in the mud and fashions a 
 pearl in a slimy bivalve might accomplish a like transfor- 
 mation for that child of the slums? Such a suggestion 
 would have been met by Sade with a sneering laugh, and 
 a disdainful answer, " Me grow like a lily ? Hot air ! 
 Nothin' doin' ! " For she had long since learned to face
 
 RED ROSE COURT 15 
 
 the truth without squirming and knew she was homely. 
 The cracked mirror in her home had shown her how 
 appropriate was the appellation her stepmother fre- 
 quently hurled at her, " You ugly brat." 
 
 She was far from beautiful ; her cheeks were too thin, 
 her mouth too large, her black hair habitually unkempt. 
 The only thing that redeemed her face from positive 
 ugliness was a pair of big gray eyes. They were lovely 
 and expressive when wide open, but she had a way of 
 half veiling them with her lashes, as though she were 
 peering into the very soul of things and people. It gave 
 her a shrewd, unlovely expression but added emphasis to 
 her dictates at such times when she chose to rule the other 
 children of the Court. 
 
 After the rickety coach was bumped over the cobble- 
 stones and into the street outside the archway Sarah laid 
 the baby on its worn cushions. " There now, off we go. 
 You're the only one's got an autermobile. You should 
 worry how far it is to the park! Sh," she shook her 
 tousled head as the child began to cry, " don't you cry 
 when you're off to heaven. All aboard ! " She wheeled 
 the carriage a few feet then stood still and faced one of 
 the little boys. " You, Jakey Schlotzberger, I got a big 
 notion to leave you home this time. Yesterday when I 
 took you past the candy factory you bawled 'cause you 
 couldn't have none." 
 
 "Ach, I won't cry this time," half wailed Jakey. " I 
 won't bawl at all, no matter what it happens, Sade, if you 
 just takes me with." 
 
 " Well," she relented, " I'll try you once more, but if 
 you cry this time you'll never go again till roses bloom 
 in Red Rose Court. Come on, kids. But mind, it's hot, 
 it's awful hot to walk."
 
 16 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB, 
 
 " We don't care," they assured her ; and the little party 
 started off. In some sections of the city their departure 
 would have attracted attention, but in that thickly popu- 
 lated neighborhood no one took notice of the pleasure 
 seekers. 
 
 " Which park we goin' at ? " asked one. 
 
 " Might as well go to North Broqk; that's the test." 
 
 " Hooray, you're bully, Sade ! " the chorus of happy 
 voices and squeals of delight greeted her announcement. 
 
 " Aw, cut the noise and come on," she ordered. 
 
 Through the noisy business section the girl led her 
 party until they entered at length upon a long street lined 
 with great brownstone houses. 
 
 " Gee, it's quiet here," exclaimed Jakey. " Who lives 
 in them big houses ? " 
 
 " Rich guys." 
 
 " Where does they get all their money? " 
 
 " Make it. But shut up, you talk too much." 
 
 " Make it ? " repeated the irrepressible Jakey. " How 
 does they make it? Does they have a machine? I'm 
 goin' to make some too when I get big ; I'm goin' to have 
 a machine and make lots and " 
 
 A frightened look came into the girl's eyes and her face 
 paled. She turned quickly to the boy. 
 
 " Do you know any one makes money with a ma- 
 chine ? " she asked. 
 
 " Me ? Ach, no. But when I get big - 
 
 The color returned to Sarah's face. " Jakey," she said 
 fiercely, " don't you know that makin* money with ma- 
 chines is bad? If you get pinched at it it's jail for long." 
 
 Jakey shivered. "Ach, Sade, don't scare me like that. 
 I won't never make no money that ways if you gets sent 
 up for it. How much farder is it to that park?" he
 
 RED ROSE COURT 17 
 
 asked, eager to change the conversation to a less terrify- 
 ing subject. 
 
 " Steen more miles," she told him. " Tired? " 
 
 " A little," he admitted. 
 
 "Aw, we ain't! That little Dutchman always gets 
 tired first." 
 
 They trudged on silently for a while. Then suddenly 
 one child cried, "I see it! There's the park! " 
 
 At the end of the long street the park lay cool and 
 green, and the children jumped in delight as they drew 
 near to it. Jakey ran ahead and seated himself under a 
 tree. 
 
 " Come on, it's fine here ! " he cried, turning a somer- 
 sault on the grass. 
 
 " Go on," Sarah scoffed. " Youse don't want to sit 
 near the street like that! When you go to a park go 
 right. Come on in." She led the way to a cooler spot 
 under an oak-tree. 
 
 " There now, kids," she said as she set the baby on the 
 grass, " ain't you swell, though ! " 
 
 " Say," asked one of the children, " wouldn't it be 
 grand if we had grass like this in Red Rose Court? 
 Think mebbe some'd grow if we planted it ? " 
 
 " Humph," was Sarah's response, " how could anything 
 grow in that place? The person named it after roses 
 must 'a' had bats in his belfry. But, say, now ain't you 
 havin' a swell time ? " she said, smiling as she watched 
 the children romp and skip, then roll on the grass. But 
 the baby held her deepest interest. She found green 
 leaves and put them into its puny hands, she invited it to 
 kick or creep on the cool ground, but it lay inertly in the 
 shade and looked up at her, a smile on its wizened face as 
 though it were longing to convey to her some idea of its
 
 18 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 gratitude for the relief from the cruel heat of Red Rose 
 Court. 
 
 " Say, this beats heaven all hollow," Sarah told the 
 baby, " for pearly gates and golden streets like I heard 
 once are there ain't half as fine as grass and wind. 
 Mebbe there's a part o' heaven that's got a park, then it'd 
 be all right." 
 
 The section of the park in which the children played 
 was almost deserted at that hour. Occasionally faint 
 echoes of laughter and calls of other children floated to 
 the secluded shade of the oak tree, but the children of 
 Red Rose Court paid no attention to the sounds. Their 
 hungry little souls were given wholly to their play. But 
 suddenly Sarah held up a warning finger and ordered a 
 crisp, " Shut up ! " She held her head rigid in an atti- 
 tude of keen listening ; her eyes burned under her narrow- 
 ing lids. Then she rose. She had heard the cry of an 
 animal in pain and the derisive yell of a boy. 
 
 " Say," she told the children, " you kids stay right here, 
 and mind nothin' happens to the baby. Jakey and me's 
 goin' to walk up there a little ways. Youse stay right 
 here till we get back." 
 
 "All right," they promised. 
 
 Sarah, going in the direction from which the sounds 
 had come, approached a slight depression securely hedged 
 by trees and shrubbery. As she and Jakey came nearer 
 the whine of a puppy and the voice of a boy rose more 
 distinctly. 
 
 " Where was we goin' at ? " asked Jakey. 
 
 " To hunt trouble. Mind what I tell you, if there's a 
 fight you keep out o* it." 
 
 " Fight ? " Jakey cried in terror. "Ach, Sade, police- 
 mans gets you if you fight ! "
 
 RED ROSE COURT 19 
 
 " Shut up, you baby, and come on ! " 
 
 Sarah tiptoed noiselessly to the little clump of bushes 
 and pushed the profuse vegetation aside. 
 
 " Let me see once," whispered Jakey in awe-filled 
 tones. 
 
 " Sh ! " cautioned Sarah, " you stay here while I show 
 that kid a few tricks." 
 
 Within the shelter of the dense shrubbery a boy stood 
 at the edge of a small lily pond. He held in one hand a 
 wriggling yellow pup, whose long shaggy hair was drip- 
 ping from a recent immersion in the water, while with the 
 other hand he waved a stick, and the frightened animal, 
 evidently acquainted with the sting of sticks, cowered and 
 whined. 
 
 " You little coward, afraid of water and a stick," the 
 boy addressed the dog. 
 
 " You big coward ! " cried Sarah as she took one big 
 stride and stood before the boy, a veritable volcano of 
 wrath and indignation. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he said, laughing at her ludicrous, 
 forlorn appearance. 
 
 " I'll show you ! " she retorted. Like a flash she struck 
 out a fist and hit him squarely on the jaw. The unex- 
 pectedness of the attack sent him reeling, but he quickly 
 regained his balance. He faced her angrily. " You 
 want to get pinched, you little shrew ? " he said. "An- 
 other punch like that from that match-stick of an arm 
 and I'll get the cop." 
 
 " Huh," she faced him defiantly, " guess he'd pinch 
 you first for hurtin' the dog. Don't you give me none o' 
 your hot air. You dirty thing, to hurt a puppy that can't 
 bite you back! Why don't you take a cat that can 
 scratch ? You put it down 1 "
 
 20 THE MADONNA OF THE CURS 
 
 " I will not ! " he told her boldly. " Run along and sell 
 your papers, you ugly brat ; this is my party." 
 
 The last words choked in his throat. Sarah, seeing 
 that the culprit was obstinate, decided upon strenuous 
 measures. She remembered a trick she had once used to 
 rout a bully of Red Rose Court. With an agile spring 
 she leaped upon the boy's back ; in an instant her bare legs 
 were twisted around his chest and her thin arms doubled 
 about his throat so tightly that he found it difficult to 
 breathe. He tried to shake her off, but she clung with 
 the tenacity of a crab. 
 
 " Get off," he muttered thickly. " Can't you see 
 
 I can't let him fall. Get off and I'll give him to 
 you." 
 
 " Cross your heart," she demanded. 
 
 " Cross my heart," he agreed, almost choked. 
 
 Sarah loosened her hold and slid to the ground, while 
 he breathed deeply and rubbed his neck. 
 
 " Hand me that there dog. You ain't fit to have any- 
 thing alive." 
 
 He did as she bid him and she cuddled the frightened 
 animal in her arm. " Poor little brat," she said to it, 
 
 " that bad boy " She turned suddenly to the youth 
 
 and ordered, " You devil, better run while the running's 
 good. If I ever get my fist on your hide again I'll make 
 shoestrings out o' it! Better run or your ma'll have a 
 funeral to go to to-morrow ! Scat ! " 
 
 The boy had evidently no desire for further chastise- 
 ment from her, for he muttered sullenly and turned from 
 her, leaving the dog in her arms. Sarah fondled the 
 panting animal as he snuggled close to her, his wet fur 
 rubbing against her dress. 
 
 " Lucky me and Jakey come in time 'fore that bad boy
 
 RED ROSE COURT 21 
 
 killed you. Jakey ! " She looked around but the boy 
 had gone. " Huh," she curled her lips, " he got scared." 
 
 As she drew near to the children a wild yell went up at 
 sight of the dog. " Oh, Sade, where'd you get him ? Is 
 he yourn ? Dare you keep him ? " Jakey peeped round 
 the trunk of a tree, his curiosity too strong to keep him 
 hidden. 
 
 " You're a fine body-guard," she told him sarcastically. 
 
 " Me, I ain't nothin' at all like that, Sade. I just got 
 scared when I seen there was goin' to be a fight and I 
 run back here to help mind the baby." 
 
 " Humph, need mindin' yourself." 
 
 Here the questions came again. "Is the pup yourn? 
 Goin' to keep him ? " 
 
 " He's mine, and I'm goin' to keep him or lose a leg ! " 
 was Sarah's assertion. " Come on, it's time we got to 
 the Court and them red roses." She made a grimace to- 
 ward the sky and went on, " Wonder what nut named the 
 place we live at. Like Mrs. Maloney says, ' If the fool 
 killer ever comes along that man better hide in the closet.' 
 Come on, kids." 
 
 So the little party with its new acquisition started 
 homeward. As they passed through the archway and 
 entered Red Rose Court a medley of shrieking siren 
 whistles broke upon their ears. 
 
 "Ach, supper ! " cried Jakey. " I just hopes we has 
 cabbage again ! " 
 
 One by one the children scattered, leaving Sarah alone 
 with the Maloney baby and the dog. She wheeled the 
 rickety coach as gently as possible over the rough way of 
 the Court. 
 
 " Poor kid," she said as she peered in at the child, " if 
 you ain't went to sleep in all that racket! Guess your
 
 22 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 ma'll be glad, then she can get supper 'fore you wake up. 
 
 Poor kid " Something in the rigid position of the 
 
 child arrested her attention. She bent lower and lifted 
 one of the tiny hands ; it fell lifelessly back. Real terror 
 seized her then ; she shook the child tenderly and called, 
 " Baby, darlin', wake up and smile for Sade." But the 
 eager call met with no response; the child was beyond 
 call of human voice. Sarah snatched it from the coach 
 and ran into the Maloney house. " The baby," she 
 panted, " the baby's dead ! " 
 
 The mother's cry brought a crowd of curious residents 
 of the Court. Sarah had to tell over and over the story 
 of the trip to the park, how the baby had enjoyed the 
 cool shade and had even smiled its thanks, and how as she 
 wheeled it home she thought it was asleep. It was merely 
 an incident in the sordid life of Red Rose Court, but to 
 Sarah it was a tragedy. The little hands had clung to 
 her so confidingly, the face had looked up into hers with 
 so piteous a smile. How it had seemed to understand 
 when she told that fairy tale about the heaven she'd like 
 to take it to ! Was there such a heaven ? Was even then 
 the Maloney baby in a place where cool breezes swept 
 their healing over it ? 
 
 As she walked away from the squalid Maloney home 
 something the bereaved mother had said in her grief, 
 something about God knowing best, set Sarah pondering. 
 Mrs. Maloney was a devout Catholic, and many of her 
 sayings lingered in the mind of Sarah, who never heard 
 the name of God spoken in her own home except when 
 used in blasphemy. All Sarah Burkhart knew of matters 
 divine and supernatural was the meagre, visionary knowl- 
 edge she could cull from the few residents of Red Rose 
 Court who clung to their religion despite the low estate
 
 RED ROSE COURT 23 
 
 to which they had descended. Was Mrs. Maloney right ; 
 did God know best? Was He kind when He took the 
 baby away? Just how He took it wasn't clear to the 
 girl. She knew it would be placed in a little box and 
 buried in the cemetery, for she had seen it happen many 
 times. How did God get it ? Perhaps at night when no 
 one could see, angels came and took it to heaven. She 
 could visualize the baby's smile when the angels woke it 
 and carried it off to heaven. But how she'd miss it, how 
 she missed it already ! Why, every day while Mrs. Ma- 
 loney was at work, she had kept the baby, loved it, carried 
 it around and tried to keep it happy. She knew how to 
 fill its bottle, and she had adored the way the little hands 
 had reached up for the milk. Now it was dead, and Mrs. 
 Maloney, although a widow with a number of other chil- 
 dren to care for, would be lonely without her baby. She 
 knew why it had died ; the heat of Red Rose Court was 
 too intense for it. Gee, it was a tough place for babies ! 
 Why was so much grass in the park and front of some 
 persons' houses and not one stalk in Red Rose Court? 
 Why could some people live in the big cool houses they 
 passed on the way to the park and others had to live in 
 places like the one in which she lived? Why could lots 
 of babies be taken care of in fine homes and have com- 
 fortable beds and others, like the Maloney baby, had to 
 drag along or die in the death-ridden slums ? 
 
 *' God," she lifted her face and heart to the sky, the 
 narrow sky that looked down even above the Court 
 " God, I ain't sure where you are. I been to church with 
 Catholics and Jews and Pros'tants, and every one of them 
 thinks they got you in their place, but I heard the Salva- 
 tion Army guys sing and tell that you was everywhere, so 
 mebbe you ain't so far from Red Rose Court that you
 
 24 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 can't hear me. If you can hear me, why I want to ask 
 you can't you fix some things a little better? The Ma- 
 loney baby just died because it couldn't live no longer in 
 Red Rose Court, for that's a hell of a hole dirty and 
 awful smelly but I guess I hadn't ought to talk to you 
 like this, only I don' know much about you and the proper 
 way to speak. I can't act the lady good, for I ain't never 
 been learned, but I guess you can understand what I 
 mean. Please try to make it a little nicer for some of the 
 poor babies like the one just died, so they needn't die 
 from being hot and not havin' what's right to eat. If 
 you do that, God, I'll say hurrah for you ! "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE COUNTERFEITER 
 
 THE place Sarah called her home was a hovel of the 
 dreariest type. Foul air of cooking, heat and accumu- 
 lated filth greeted her as she stepped into the room. 
 Against one wall a table covered with a torn brown oil- 
 cloth was littered with unsightly heaps of soiled dishes 
 upon which remnants of food attracted great swarms of 
 flies. 
 
 Sarah gave one glance at the table, then she called, 
 "Ma, oh ma!" 
 
 She received no answer. 
 
 " Puppy," she confided to the dog, " she's out again. 
 Bet she's to Murphy's. If she comes back soused you 
 better stick close to me. But she better not touch you, 
 that's what ! " A fierce joy of possession coursed through 
 the child as she spoke. " The baby I liked is dead so 
 you're all I got now, and my pa." She bent and bestowed 
 a kiss upon the shaggy fur of the puppy, then began to 
 ascend the narrow, dark stairs. 
 
 " Won't pa be surprised ? " she said. " He'll like you, 
 I bet." 
 
 Very quietly she opened the door of a small closet in 
 the corner of a low-ceilinged room at the head of the 
 stairs. Rows of hooks hung with old clothes lined the 
 three walls of the closet. Sarah stepped inside the nar- 
 row place, pulled the door close behind her and with her 
 free hand groped under the clothes until her fingers
 
 26 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 found a small groove. In a moment she had opened a 
 door only wide enough to admit sidewise entrance into 
 a tiny room beyond the closet. 
 
 The girl stepped quickly into the room and closed the 
 door. At the sound a man looked up nervously. 
 
 " It's only Sade," she hastened to reassure him. " See 
 what I got ! " 
 
 The man was thin, stooped and contracted, as though 
 the little room had pressed upon him from all sides. His 
 face was stamped with marks of 'weakness and dejec- 
 tion. The flickering light of a gas burner flared in his 
 face as he stood over his work he was a clever counter- 
 feiter of American money ! 
 
 Originally the little room in which he sat had been part 
 of the closet. It was without windows, one tiny skylight 
 admitting a pitiably small amount of the glorious light of 
 day and the health-renewing fresh air. Shelves piled 
 with boxes, a table with tools, and a stool upon which the 
 man sat, occupied most of the floor space of the room, so 
 that there was scant space for the child to stand. 
 
 As she greeted him he stopped working. " Hello, 
 Sade," he replied softly. " Where did you get the dog? " 
 
 " Out in the park. A boy was hurtin' him and I told 
 him skiddo and kept the dog. I won't let nothin' get hurt 
 I can help ; you wouldn't neither, pa ? " 
 
 " No " the man seemed to sink into a revery while 
 
 the child petted the puppy. 
 
 "Ain't he a. nice dog, pa?" she asked after a few 
 minutes. 
 
 " Umph, yes," he answered absently, then roused him- 
 self and patted the dog's head. " What'll ma say?" he 
 suggested. 
 
 Sarah frowned as she replied quickly, " Ma can say
 
 THE COUNTERFEITER 27 
 
 what she's a mind to the dog's mine and he stays with 
 me." 
 
 " I hope she won't whip you again," the man said 
 nervously. 
 
 " Who cares if I don't ! " she spoke contemptuously. 
 " I ain't afraid of her, ain't afraid of nobody nor nothin' 
 but snakes ! " 
 
 The man smiled wearily and Sarah added in a matter- 
 of-fact way, " She's out again, guess down to Murphy's." 
 
 " I suppose so. Sarah, when you are older I'll tell you 
 about your own mother. She was different oh, mercy, 
 mercy, how low I've gone ! I'll tell you, Sade, you come 
 from good stock, your pa is the crocked, rotten branch 
 of a noble tree. Some day perhaps you'll be able to meet 
 your relations, but not now, not now. I'm going to 
 quit!" 
 
 The strain was a new one to Sarah; her father had 
 never spoken about her people before, had evaded her 
 questions, would not even admit that she had any rela- 
 tives in the world other than him. What ailed him, what 
 did he mean when he said he was going to quit ? 
 
 " Quit ? " she echoed. " Quit what ? Makin' money ? " 
 she asked eagerly. 
 
 " Yes. I should have never begun it. But I did and 
 when I see it come out so like the real thing it seems to 
 hold me and just make me keep on. But I'm going to 
 stop right now. I started taking the things apart. I'm 
 going to break them so that no one coming here after me 
 can be tempted. To-morrow we'll clear out and find 
 some nice home, far from this dirty place, and live right." 
 
 " Will you take me and ma and the dog ? " 
 
 "Yes. Now take the dog and feed him and let me 
 finish up."
 
 28 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Sarah crept through the narrow door and the dark 
 closet and went down to the kitchen. The prospect of 
 moving away from the miserable place in Red Rose 
 Court and being freed from the dreadful concern about 
 her father's safety put a new gladness into her heart. 
 
 As she entered the untidy kitchen a woman came slowly 
 in from the street. 
 
 " Ho, ma," the girl greeted her. " Where you been ? " 
 
 The woman laughed hilariously. It was evident that 
 she had imbibed too freely of some intoxicant. " Where 
 have I been ? " she repeated. " Where have I been ? To 
 heaven, don't I look it ? Got supper ready ? " She 
 glanced at the table " Now, Sade, where you been to 
 heaven too? No supper made," she laughed good-na- 
 turedly, "no supper made and your poor sick pa, him 
 that's so sick that he can't come down-stairs to his meals 
 sometimes, him that only once in a while can sit at the 
 window and wave to my friends, him, your poor sick pa, 
 has to wait for his supper ! Ha, ha, it's sick he is, sick 
 with a conscience! And serves him darned right for 
 keepin' a conscience, / say. Sade, that pa of yourn is a 
 poor sport. His spine's turning to jelly." Here she 
 seated herself in a rickety chair. "Whew," she 
 whistled, " chair's wobbly." She steadied herself by 
 holding on to the table and went on in her talkative strain. 
 
 " Say, Sade, d'you mind the day some one told about 
 your pa bein' sick and one of them busybody nurses came 
 to see him? How you talked with her down here and I 
 went and pulled him out his ' labaratory ' as he calls that 
 nice little room, and how I stuffed pillows back of him 
 and told the nurse he was gettin' better and we didn't 
 need no help. Lucky for us then that he looks pinched 
 and thin like he had the consumption, lucky for us. Bet
 
 THE COUNTERFEITER 29 
 
 he's got the real con, too, by this time; look at him, so 
 thin you could say ' pouf ' and out he'd go ! Yessir, 
 Sade, that pa o' yourn ain't long for this world, but it's a 
 good thing for he's gettin' too good for the likes o' us. 
 What's that thing you got there ? " she demanded, notic- 
 ing for the first time the dog in Sarah's arm. 
 
 "A dog. I'm goin' to keep him." 
 
 "Keep him, that dirty little bundle of a dog not 
 much ! Out he goes ! " 
 
 She half rose from her chair but Sarah stepped to her 
 quickly, a menacing frown on her face. 
 
 " Sit down, ma, you're drunk ! The dog stays." 
 
 " The dog goes ! " the woman retorted, her mood 
 changed suddenly from jovial hilarity to nasty ill-temper. 
 A sharp torrent of abuse leaped to her lips " You black- 
 haired brat with freckles and a pug nose, d'you think 
 you'll boss me ? I'll kill that dog ! " 
 
 " Then I'll put the cop wise to that watch you stole 
 Christmas and you'll go up for a while." Sarah spoke 
 very deliberately so that the woman might not fail to 
 grasp the significance of her words. 
 
 A livid rage spread over the ugly face of the woman. 
 " You, you brat ! " she sputtered. " You're a witch ! 
 How do you know I stole that watch? You're a witch, 
 I'd like to kill you ! " 
 
 " Then pa'd kill you and you know it ! " 
 
 " Humph, guess he would get ravin' if I hurt you." 
 The woman was silent for a moment. " He thinks you're 
 an angel makes me sick ! " Her anger cooled as sud- 
 denly as it had risen. Presently she said more calmly, 
 " Your pa should have been a parson or some such softy. 
 Says he was good till he married me, says his first wife 
 was an angel and looked just like you uh, swell lookin'
 
 30 THE MADONNA OF THE (CURB 
 
 angel you'd make, with freckles and a pug nose humph, 
 makes me sick." 
 
 " Hush, ma," cautioned the child. " You talk too loud, 
 the whole Court'll come in to hear the row. Better go lie 
 down and get sober while I'll get supper. You want to 
 sleep off that drunk for we pull out o' Red Rose Court 
 to-morrow. Pa said so. We're goin' off to a new place 
 far from here and we're goin' to live in a clean place and 
 live right, begin all over again, pa said." 
 
 " Huh ? " The woman looked up eagerly. " Your pa 
 said that?" 
 
 " Yes. He just told me. He wants to live right 
 now and not make money or do what's wrong. I'm 
 glad. Mebbe I can have a new dress once in a while 
 and if we live in a clean place pa will stop bein* so 
 thin and sick lookin' did you know the Maloney baby 
 died?" 
 
 " Naw, did it good riddance of the pesky brat. That 
 stops your draggin' it round all the time." 
 
 " You ain't you got no heart ? " Sarah asked fiercely, 
 but the sorrow of the child's death left her in no mood 
 to quarrel about it. She sighed, and said, " Go sleep 
 while I fix the grub." 
 
 The woman staggered into the adjoining room and 
 threw herself upon a shabby couch. She closed her eyes 
 but did not sleep. The revelation of Sarah sobered her 
 muddled brain as if by magic. 
 
 " So," she thought, " this is the end. He's afraid of 
 that conscience. He thinks he'll drag us off to some 
 place out of the world and have us live right. That 
 means I take care of the kid and work like a slave to 
 keep a house clean and mebbe even go to church every 
 week watch me! I'm in the game too long to leave it
 
 THE COUNTERFEITER 31 
 
 to turn missionary." She lay very quiet, formulating a 
 plan. 
 
 When Sarah called her for supper she walked steadily 
 into the kitchen, much to the child's surprise. 
 
 "Feel all right?" 
 
 " Yes, Sade, I feel good ; guess knowin' that we're goin' 
 out of this rotten Red Rose Court helps. You can keep 
 the dog, I don't care." 
 
 Sarah smiled. " Yes, I was goin' to keep him," she 
 said quietly. 
 
 Later the woman went up-stairs and found her way to 
 the room beyond the closet. Again the man turned sus- 
 piciously at the sound of the opening door, then smiled in 
 relief. " Oh, it's you, Mary. Where have you been all 
 day?" 
 
 " Out," she said curtly, then added more kindly, 
 " Come out to the room. I have your supper there ; it's 
 too hot in here." 
 
 " Thanks, Mary," he said as he followed her into the 
 larger room where the heat was several degrees less in- 
 tense. 
 
 " Sade tells me you want to quit and move out of here." 
 
 "Yes, Mary. I'm tired of this awful life!" He 
 raised a hand to his throat " I'm choking in there. 
 We'll go away and begin life again. We can get a little 
 place in the country and earn an honest living and there 
 Sade can grow into a woman like she ought. Lord, to be 
 out in the air, free, once more what it will be for me ! I 
 haven't lived these years I worked in that hole back of 
 the closet, I've been dying! What do you say can you 
 be ready to pull out in the morning? We'll take just our 
 clothes; the rest isn't worth ten cents. Can you be 
 ready ? "
 
 32 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Yes, I'll be ready," she assented simply, making no 
 comment on the plan. 
 
 Her ready acquiescence touched the man. " Mary, 
 you're good to go without fussing. I was afraid you 
 might be hard to manage, but I'm glad there is so much 
 more good in you than I dreamed. I am sorry I mis- 
 judged you. You will have a new chance, too. In the 
 country, away from evil influences of the city, you and I 
 can learn to be happy together. We must make Sarah 
 forget these years in the slums slums I have kept my 
 child in the slums " 
 
 " Sure, it's never too late to mend, the preachers say," 
 the woman consoled him. 
 
 After she went away and he returned to the little room 
 to complete the task of wrecking the counterfeiting outfit, 
 he thought of the woman. How much more tractable she 
 was than he had dared to hope, how fortunate that she 
 was willing to share his trial at a new, better life ! There 
 was good in her, after all. Perhaps she would yet come 
 to love the child and try to be a mother to her the child, 
 the little girl who looked so like the woman he first loved, 
 the only woman he ever loved how he had wronged her ! 
 Had he been under the spell of some evil power, had it all 
 been a hideous nightmare, or did he really bring an inno- 
 cent child to Red Rose Court and keep her there through 
 the long years ? He thought of the mother of Sarah, the 
 woman who had been with him for a few short wonderful 
 years, whose going out had shattered his very centers of 
 being, whose absence he had mourned and tried to forget 
 in vice. For years he had failed so grievously in his duty 
 to the child that the mere thought of that pure, devoted 
 .wife sent him shivering with shame and remorse. But 
 now he resolved he would atone for the neglect, and the
 
 THE COUNTERFEITER 33 
 
 spirit of that first love would yet find cause to be proud 
 of him. He would take up his long-neglected duty of 
 being a good father to her, she should grow into a noble 
 woman as her mother had been so he dreamed and 
 planned through the long night until he fell asleep. 
 
 Morning dawned fair and sultry in Red Rose Court. 
 Early in the day Sarah's stepmother turned to the child 
 and said pleasantly, " I'm goin' out for a little while. 
 You know the rent is due and I want to pay it so there 
 won't be any followin' up on us." 
 
 " Sure, ma, we don't want to do anything to send the 
 cops after us now when pa wants to go straight. While 
 you're off I'll put the clothes in our bags, mine in the old 
 brown satchel and yourn and pa's in the big bag. Gee, 
 I'll be glad to get to a nice place to live. Guess I'll be 
 thinkin' I'm in heaven with the Maloney baby when I get 
 out o' this dirty hole and live in the country. Oh, I 
 couldn't be happier if I had new shoes and dress and hat 
 all at one whack ! I'll be glad to live nice." 
 
 " Guess you will," the woman said. Then she pursed 
 her lips, laughed so gaily that the child looked up, aston- 
 ished at the sound, and a few minutes later the step- 
 mother of Sarah Burkhart went out through the arched 
 alleyway, away from Red Rose Court. 
 
 Some time later a ragged little boy accosted a police- 
 man and handed him a soiled letter marked " Important." 
 
 "A lady give me a quarter to give this to a policeman," 
 the boy explained. 
 
 The officer opened the note and read : 
 
 "If you want to catch a conterfitter go to number 46 in 
 Red rose cort. Be sure to hurry before he gets wise I'm 
 sqeeling. Go up the stairs to the second floor and find 
 the closet, there ain't more than one, and push in the back
 
 34 THE MADONNA OF THE CURtf 
 
 of it and see what you find. And tell the man I hope he 
 likes that nice new home where he's going to." 
 
 Sarah was so busy in her haphazard way, packing the 
 few miserably poor belongings she felt they wished to 
 carry with them as they started off on the great adventure 
 of finding that new home in the country where her father 
 could begin all over again and she could grow into a lady 
 as he had promised her she would, that the length of her 
 stepmother's stay did not alarm her at once. But at 
 length she murmured to her father, " I don't see where 
 ma stays so long. Hope she ain't off again to Murphy's." 
 
 " Oh, no," he replied cheerily, " she wouldn't do that. 
 She seems most as anxious as we to get out of this place. 
 Perhaps she will be nicer to you when we get to the new 
 place. There must be more good in her than I thought. 
 She was so different when I married her, so kind to you 
 and kept the house tidy, but since we sank to Red Rose 
 
 Court she " he sighed. " What's the good of talking 
 
 about it ! We want to forget this place. Guess she'll be 
 here soon." 
 
 " Mebbe so," said Sarah gloomily. " I wish she'd 
 come." 
 
 " Don't worry, she'll be here soon. While you wait for 
 her you might come up to the little room and help me 
 carry down some of the tools and take apart the things I 
 used you know, the outfit" 
 
 The two crept through the closet and entered the small, 
 stuffy workshop. 
 
 " Gee, it's hot here ! " Sarah exclaimed. " It's so 
 darned hard to get your breath here that it's no wonder 
 you look like the wrath of Moses. I bet you're glad to 
 get out of this place and kiss the little room good-bye."
 
 THE COUNTERFEITER 35 
 
 " Yes, when I get to the country I can hold my head up 
 once more. There'll be trees and birds " 
 
 " Oh, pa ! " She clapped her hands. " Trees and 
 birds just what I always wished I could live near ! I'm 
 so glad I could cry ! Ain't you glad too ? " 
 
 " Yes." The man's voice trembled. 
 
 Sarah looked at him, her quick intuition helping her to 
 understand what the life in that dark, narrow room must 
 have been to the man. " You don't look good, pa." She 
 eyed him solicitously. 
 
 " It's been awful, but I'll feel better soon, especially 
 when my conscience stops condemning me so dreadfully." 
 
 " What's a conscience ? " 
 
 But the man was spared an explanation. A sudden 
 noise in the house startled them. Both stood in an atti- 
 tude of attentiveness. 
 
 " There's ma now," said the child. " I'll go down and 
 ask her if she wants that black skirt packed." 
 
 She opened the door, closed it, groped through the dark 
 closet and opened the door into the bedroom and then 
 found herself face to face with two men ! 
 
 " What d'you want here ? " she demanded, shielding the 
 door with her tiny form. 
 
 " Hold the kid, Joe," the one man cautioned the other, 
 then he stepped quickly past her, through the closet and 
 into the laboratory before the stooped counterfeiter had 
 time to defend himself. Weak from long confinement 
 and foul air, the offender could not combat a husky offi- 
 cer of the law armed with club and revolver. As the 
 handcuffs snapped about the thin wrists of the man he 
 paled and would have fallen had not the strong arm of 
 the officer supported him. The suddenness and unex- 
 pectedness of the arrest staggered the counterfeiter com-
 
 36 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 pletely and left him shaking and bowed like a tree upon 
 which a mighty storm has raged. 
 
 Sarah, held firmly in the grip of the second officer, 
 grew purple with rage, then pale, as she beheld the fate 
 of her father and realized its significance. The thing she 
 had dreaded for a whole year, ever since the day she had 
 unwittingly stumbled upon the little room back of the 
 closet, the thing that had haunted her dreams and hov- 
 ered darkly about her waking hours, the awful thing had 
 come to pass at the very moment when she thought relief 
 from worry was at hand: her father's transgression 
 against the law was discovered, he was arrested and 
 would be taken away from her ! 
 
 The fierce, impulsive anger that was characteristic of 
 her nature rushed upon her with a new force. She 
 struggled against the hold of the man, she kicked and 
 screamed and fought with wild, demoniac fierceness, but 
 all to no avail. 
 
 " Behave yourself, kid," he said, not unkindly. " Your 
 father ain't dead yet." 
 
 Then the child changed her tactics and resorted to 
 pleading and alluring coaxing. Her eyes brimmed with 
 tears as she looked up into the face of the big man who 
 gripped her. 
 
 " Please," she begged, " please let him go ! Don't take 
 him off to jail, don't take him away from me. He's all I 
 got in the world but a puppy dog. He ain't goin' to make 
 no more of that bad money with a machine. He was 
 sorry he done it and we have everything fixed to pull out 
 of this hole and go some place nice and live like decent 
 folks. Please, let him go, please ! " 
 
 But the man shook his head. " Can't do it, kid. 
 Duty's duty."
 
 THE COUNTERFEITER 37 
 
 " But it can't be your duty to get him sent up for 
 long and me what'll become o' me? I ain't got no 
 other relations, only him and my dog. Oh, why did 
 youse come here? Why don't ma come and chase you 
 off?" 
 
 A queer, pitying smile flitted across the face of the 
 man. Sarah read its meaning instantly. 
 
 " Ma squealed ! " she cried. " I see it in your face ! 
 Oh, the dirty cat, I could kill her ! " 
 
 The officer released her. " Guess we better take you 
 along, for I'm thinking you won't want to stay with that 
 stepmother. Go get anything you want to take, but bet- 
 ter hurry up, we're going soon." 
 
 A little later the two men and the handcuffed incarna- 
 tion of misery, waiting in the kitchen, looked up at the 
 sound of the child's step. She had snatched an old hat 
 from one corner, tried to pull her black hair into a less 
 jumbled mass, and in one hand she carried the shabby 
 brown satchel containing her clothes, on the other arm the 
 little dog lay curled. 
 
 " What, you taking a dog ? " asked the man who had 
 tried to be kind to her. 
 
 " Bet your buttons I am ! I don't go nowheres this dog 
 can't go! He's mine, belongs to me. I got to look out 
 for him, ain't I ? " 
 
 " Poor kid," thought the officer compassionately, " let 
 her take it, it'll be all she'll have to console her when her 
 father leaves her." Aloud he said, "Well, take him 
 along- Perhaps you can keep him." 
 
 A curious crowd gathered quickly in Red Rose Court. 
 Dowdy, miserable looking men and women and a swarm 
 of frightened, interested children waited anxiously for 
 the development of the officers' visit to the Burkhart
 
 38 THE MADONNA OE THE CURB 
 
 home. As the three men and the child stepped from the 
 house little Jakey ran to Sarah. 
 
 "Ach, Sade," he wailed, " where you goin* at ? Are 
 you comin' back soon ? Why's your pa pinched ? " 
 
 But the girl shook her head and would not satisfy the 
 curiosity of Jakey and the others. Only when she 
 reached the exit from the familiar Red Rose Court did 
 she trust herself to speak she called out a sorrowful 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 So the little procession went out from Red Rose Court 
 the prisoner drooping, silent and unresisting; the two 
 officers dignified and awe-inspiring; Sarah sad and agi- 
 tated, her heart throbbing painfully; the dog panting 
 gently and turning great brown eyes to the troubled face 
 of his new mistress. It was only the beginning of the 
 reaping that which inevitably follows sowing to the whirl- 
 wind. Sad it is that the offender cannot reap alone and 
 be done with it, that the one who sins cannot eat all the 
 bitter bread that springs from his sowing, that innocent 
 children must share in the harvest.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 
 
 THE great city of which Red Rose Court is a part 
 maintains for its derelict children a reformatory mod- 
 ernly built and conducted. Situated eight miles from the 
 city it lies in a pleasant country place where the beneficial 
 open air can combine with human agencies for reforma- 
 tion of the unfortunate inmates. The boys' cottages form 
 a small group at the foot of a great mountain, while upon 
 the summit of the hill, appropriately called Sunset 
 Mountain, stands the girls' cottage. 
 
 To that place Sarah Burkhart was committed after her 
 father's incarceration pending trial as a counterfeiter. A 
 reformatory what evil thing had she done to be placed 
 in a reformatory ? The little Madonna of the curb, who 
 had held for long hours the peevish Maloney baby and 
 ministered to it according to her meagre knowledge and 
 her rich maternal instinct what tribunal could mete out 
 to her segregation with vicious lawbreakers whose youth 
 alone saved them from heavier punishments? Sarah 
 Burkhart had in all her squalid young life wrought no 
 greater harm than fight the bullies of Red Rose Court; 
 deride selfish children of the gutter; garnish her speech 
 with oaths whose virulence she could not understand; 
 have familiarity with grating slang; staunchly brave the 
 wrath and cruelty of her stepmother. Yet she was or-
 
 40 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 dered to spend a number of years in the city reformatory 
 and be branded with its stigma forever after. The law 
 was inexorable. There was no friend to open a door for 
 the child, the father grimly refused to make known the 
 name and whereabouts of any relatives who might be 
 capable of caring for the girl the reformatory was the 
 proper place for Sarah Burkhart, so decided the arbitra- 
 tors of the law. And to Sunset Mountain Sarah was 
 faced. 
 
 " For the love o' Mike, where youse takin' me ? " the 
 girl asked the officer after they had ridden an hour in a 
 trolley and started up a long, dark suburban street. 
 
 "Ain't much further now, wait till you see the fine 
 place you're going to, then you won't mind the long 
 trip." 
 
 " Say, what you givin' me? " she asked with a curl of 
 her thin lips. " Guess a reform'tory ain't no mansion. 
 But I got nowheres else to go. Gosh, I could grind that 
 darned stepmother into powder ! " 
 
 " It's all right, kid, you'll be happier'n a flea on the 
 collie when you get up on Sunset Mountain. And you 
 got your dog mighty fine of the judge to let you bring 
 him along." 
 
 "Let me? why, I'd have to take him where I go! 
 That devil of a stepmother'd twist his neck right off to 
 make up for what she didn't dare do to me. Guess I 
 wouldn't went no place he can't go. Say, this is some 
 climb. We goin' up there ? Gee, them steps reach clean 
 to heaven?" 
 
 She stopped at the foot of the hill where the lights 
 from the boys' cottages shone through the darkness and 
 threw gleams on a steep flight of mountain steps leading, 
 it seemed t into the heart of a dense woods.
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 41 
 
 " Up we go," said the man. " Miss Hughes is expect- 
 ing us. I 'phoned that we'd get out late." 
 
 "Who's she?" 
 
 " The matron of the girls' cottage. You'll like her." 
 
 " Huh, mebbe I will, mebbe I won't. Ain't everybody 
 I like I'm choicy." 
 
 The officer laughed at the child, but his eyes held mus- 
 ing tenderness as he looked into the face of the little girl 
 who had been placed in his care to be taken to Sunset 
 Mountain. He had taken many girls to the reformatory 
 but none quite like Sarah. She was an odd one, all right, 
 he told himself. 
 
 The numerous steps cut into the side of the hill ended 
 in a huge bank where a wide road curved upward, mean- 
 dering to the summit in a circuitous manner. It termi- 
 nated in a wide plain where the great building known as 
 the girls' cottage stood outlined against the night. 
 
 " Cottage," said Sarah scornfully as the building 
 loomed before them, " some cottage ! " 
 
 The twenty-five girls of the reformatory were sleeping 
 when the bell jingled and Miss Hughes went to the door 
 to admit the new girl. 
 
 " Good-evening, Miss Hughes," the man greeted the 
 white-haired woman who opened the big door. " I've 
 brought you a new girl, Sarah Burkhart, and she wouldn't 
 move without that dog so the judge said let her bring it 
 for you might be glad to have it, long as you got so much 
 grounds round the place. Looks like the makings of a 
 fine collie. Sarah, this is Miss Hughes. You be a good 
 girl and do what Miss Hughes tells you and you'll have a 
 fine home here." 
 
 Sarah looked very white and thin as she stood beside 
 the tall officer on the wide piazza, but the moonlight shone
 
 42 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 on her and softened her unkempt little figure. She 
 looked up at Miss Hughes and a ray of light played upon 
 her and revealed more plainly the narrow face and the 
 questioning gray eyes. 
 
 As the child neither smiled nor spoke, but looked up 
 steadily at Miss Hughes, the man asked half sternly, 
 "Can't you talk?" 
 
 " Yep, when I got somethin' to say." 
 
 The man laughed. " Here, Miss Hughes, take her in, 
 you're welcome to her ! " 
 
 Miss Hughes drew the girl into the wide hall and after 
 the door had closed upon the officer she turned to Sarah 
 and looked at her under the revealing electric light. 
 
 " Well, Sarah, why have you been sent here ? " she 
 asked kindly. 
 
 " Um, guess 'cause I got nowheres else to go. Ma 
 squealed on pa for makin' money with machines and the 
 cop said he'll be in jail for long. There's nobody wants 
 me and they said down to City Hall that the place for me 
 is here and if I behave I'll have a good home and be kept 
 from goin' bad. So they sent me and the dog up." 
 
 Miss Hughes smiled sympathetically. " You'll be 
 happy here, Sarah," she said. 
 
 " Humph, mebbe so. If you let me keep my dog I'll 
 try it for a while." 
 
 " We'll keep him. What's his name ? " 
 
 " Ain't named him yet." 
 
 " What is in the grip ? " She pointed to the shabby 
 brown bag. 
 
 " Jest some clothes, but they ain't much good. Guess 
 they're lousy, for Red Rose Court is the darndest place 
 for crawlers." 
 
 Miss Hughes suppressed a smile as she replied, " We'll
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 43 
 
 burn them. You won't need your old clothes here, for 
 you must wear blue dresses like the other girls." 
 
 " Gee, I'm glad. I ain't had a new dress in a coon's 
 age." 
 
 " Now come with me," Miss Hughes directed and led 
 the way to the laundry. " We'll put the dog to bed in a 
 box here. Then I'll examine your hair and comb it and 
 you'll take a bath and go to bed." 
 
 " Gee, this is excitin' ! " the child exclaimed as she laid 
 the puppy into his new bed. " Close them eyes, puppy, 
 and go to sleep," Sarah said with all the tenderness of her 
 big heart. Miss Hughes marveled at the sudden richness 
 of the voice, the quick transition from half mockery to 
 gentle interest and sincerity. 
 
 " Good-night, puppy," she whispered again as the door 
 closed. Then she turned to the matron and said imp- 
 ishly, " Now you want to catch me crawlers, don't 
 you?" 
 
 Miss Hughes looked down at the little figure and a 
 smile spread upon her face. 
 
 " I am going to comb your hair," she said kindly. 
 
 " You comb every kid's hair that comes up here ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do." 
 
 " And you never keep no bugs here ? " 
 
 " No, indeed." 
 
 " Gee, this must be a swell place to live ! " 
 
 " It is. But come, child, it is time you were in bed." 
 
 Miss Hughes led her to the bathroom on the second 
 floor and when Sarah found herself in the spotless room 
 with its glistening white tub and tile floor she looked 
 about in frank wonder. 
 
 " Do I take a wash in here ? " she asked, a perplexed 
 frown on her face.
 
 43 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But won't it get dirty and spoiled? " 
 
 Again the matron smiled. " No, child, this is a bath- 
 room. Have you never been in a bathtub ? " 
 
 " No, but I seen 'em lots o' times in the windows. At 
 home I used to wash in an old tin basin, when I did 
 wash. But I had to wash real often winters when I went 
 to school for the teachers raise hell if you come too dirty 
 them teachers is fussy things." 
 
 Miss Hughes ignored the comment on the teachers. 
 " Sit here," she told Sarah and drew a small white chair 
 from against the wall. 
 
 The child submitted quietly to the combing of her thick 
 black hair. After a careful search among the tresses 
 Sarah suddenly burst into laughter. 
 
 " Find any crawlers ? " she asked. 
 
 " No. I thought you said " 
 
 " I was jest foolin' to scare you. I ain't got no bugs. 
 Did it scare you ? " 
 
 " Not at all." Miss Hughes repressed a strong desire 
 to shake the child. " I should have combed your hair 
 just the same. It is a rule of the institution to examine 
 the hair of every new girl. Now I'll show you how to fix 
 your bath and then you'll be ready for bed." 
 
 " You goin' to stand and watch me take a wash ? " 
 
 " No. I'll wait for you across the hall. When you are 
 bathed slip into this nightgown and call me. I'll take you 
 to the room where you'll sleep to-night." 
 
 Later came the child's voice in a cheery, " I'm ready," 
 and Miss Hughes found the new girl rosy from a vigor- 
 ous application of water and a towel. " That white swim- 
 min' pool's bully! Can I go in again sometime if I 
 stay?"
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 45 
 
 " You take a bath twice a week." 
 
 " Gee, I won't have no hide left on me, with that much 
 scrubbin' ! You must act like rich folks here ! " 
 
 " Child, how do you wear your gown? " Miss Hughes 
 asked. The girl, unacquainted with the manner of night- 
 gown fastening, had put it on as though it were a dress 
 and buttoned it down the back ! 
 
 " Ain't it right ? I never had none on before." 
 
 " It should button down the front." 
 
 " Well, ain't that the limit ! But I'll keep it on this 
 way for luck." 
 
 Miss Hughes led the new girl to a little room furnished 
 with a bureau, chair and a single white bed, immaculate 
 with snowy spread. 
 
 " You may sleep here to-night. To-morrow we'll give 
 you a bed in the dormitory with the other little girls. 
 You won't be afraid in here alone ? I'll be just across the 
 hall." 
 
 " Me afraid ? I ain't afraid of nobody nor nothin' but 
 snakes ! " 
 
 Once more the matron smiled at the strange originality 
 of the child, but Sarah, not noticing the amused smile, 
 went on talking. 
 
 " I seen beds like this a'ready," she said proudly. " I 
 like clean white things." 
 
 Miss Hughes turned back the counterpane. " Now, 
 Sarah, kneel and say your prayers." 
 
 " Don't know none oh, yes, I do too," she added 
 quickly. " Here goes ! " 
 
 She knelt down, a ridiculous little figure in her white 
 nightgown buttoned down the back and her dark hair 
 streaming over her thin shoulders. Then she prayed 
 aloud :
 
 46 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Now I lay me down to sleep, 
 I hope the bugs will quiet keep, 
 For if they bite and make me wake, 
 The coodles out o' them I'll shake ! 
 God bless my pa and my dog. Amen." 
 
 She rose from her knees and looked at Miss Hughes. 
 There was not the slightest hint of a smile about her large 
 mouth or in her gray eyes as she looked innocently into 
 the face of the matron. 
 
 " Did you like my prayer ? " she asked meekly. 
 
 " The last line was very beautiful," Miss Hughes said 
 quietly. " You should pray for your father every night." 
 
 " Will that help him how'll he know about it ? " came 
 the skeptical reply. " Mrs. Maloney, down to Red Rose 
 Court, where I used to live, prayed her man'd get well 
 and he died, and she prayed her baby would get strong 
 and it died looks to me like this prayin' stuff don't help 
 much. Guess it's all bluff. The Catholics go to mass 
 and pray on a rosary and the Jews go to synagogue and 
 they pray and the 'Piscopals put on things like a China- 
 man wears, I mean those that sing do, and I guess they 
 pray when they sing so a person can't understand what 
 they sing, and I don't see what good any of it does. You 
 got to show me. How can it help my pa when he's in 
 jail ? I don't see, do you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I can see. Some day I'll try to make you under- 
 stand. In the meantime take my word for it it does 
 help. Now creep into bed and sleep. Good-night." 
 
 " Good-night," answered the child as she slipped under 
 the covers. 
 
 That night Miss Hughes thought long and hard about 
 the new girl. " I've a problem on my hands this time," 
 she decided. " That girl requires careful handling.
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 47 
 
 What a strange mixture she is sharp and alert as a 
 money-lender, untrained and wild as the animals of the 
 plains, devoted anc} tender to the two objects of her affec- 
 tion: her father and her dog. There'll be trouble if I 
 lead her unwisely, she'll be all that is lovely and lovable if 
 I win her confidence and guide her skilfully." 
 
 The next morning when Sarah awoke the light was 
 streaming through her open window. She rubbed her 
 eyes and sat up in bed. 
 
 " Huh, I ain't dreamin' after all ! Gee, things is white 
 and clean round this joint! A fellow got to be afraid to 
 touch things. Looks like a horspital for it's cleaner than 
 any house I ever seen. Wonder what kind o' joint this 
 is. She that took me in last night ain't so bad, but it was 
 no use tryin' to get her goat for she's slick. Guess she 
 knows how us kids act. Good thing she likes dogs and 
 is lettin' me keep mine, or me and he'd be goin' down that 
 hill. Here, who's got the nerve to come into my room ? " 
 she asked crossly as the door opened and a tall girl en- 
 tered. 
 
 " You be careful how you speak to me," the intruder 
 answered, " I'm the monitress." 
 
 " So," Sarah said mockingly, " the monitress ? How 
 did you get that way born one ? " 
 
 " Oh, be sensible," the monitress advised, " or you'll get 
 into trouble first thing and get all the girls down on you. 
 I came to tell you to get up and dress. Here are your 
 clothes. You want to hurry now for we'll form line in 
 half an hour and go down to prayers." 
 
 " Prayers again ? I said some last night. Is this a 
 Sunday school ? " 
 
 " No, but we ain't heathens here. We have prayers 
 every morning and evening."
 
 48 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Gee, the Lord's kept busy here, ain't he ? " 
 
 The monitress suddenly burst into laughter as Sarah 
 stepped out of bed. 
 
 " What you laughin' at? " demanded the little girl. 
 
 " You ! Don't you know how to wear a nightgown, you 
 goose ? " 
 
 Sarah faced the tall girl angrily. " Don't you call me 
 names ! " she cried, " I'll, I'll " 
 
 " What is the trouble ? " came the calm voice of Miss 
 Hughes as she entered the room opportunely. " Lettie, 
 what is wrong ? " 
 
 " I laughed at the way she put on her gown, Miss 
 Hughes." 
 
 " Well, well," said the matron soothingly, " we won't 
 begin the day like this. Lettie, get the other girls ready. 
 Sarah, can you comb your hair ? " 
 
 " Sure Mike, but mebbe not to suit. Say, that girl's 
 too darned fresh! She laughed at me. I could smash 
 her face ! " 
 
 " You mustn't be too quick to anger, child. There are 
 twenty-five girls here with you and you must learn to get 
 along with them without quarreling." 
 
 " Yeh where's my dog ? " she asked irrelevantly. 
 " May I see him now and play with him? " 
 
 "After breakfast." 
 
 Later on, when the new girl stood in line with the 
 twenty-five other inmates, she divided her attention be- 
 tween her new blue chambray dress and the many other 
 girls dressed in similar style. Leaning forward she whis- 
 pered to the girl next in line, " Say, don't youse all get 
 mixed up, wearin' the same kind o' dresses ? " 
 
 The other girl snickered and the monitress directed 
 sternly, " Sarah, no talking in line."
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 49 
 
 Sarah turned and looked at the monitress, puckered up 
 her face disdainfully, but the absolute order and quiet of 
 the others restrained her from retort. She marched si- 
 lently into the schoolroom, sat in the seat assigned to her 
 and listened to the prayers and hymns of the girls. 
 
 After breakfast the girls formed into line, then, at a 
 word from the monitress, disbanded and went to their 
 respective morning tasks. The oldest ones hurried to the 
 kitchen, others took up brooms and brushes and began to 
 clean and polish the wide halls, still others cleared the 
 tables and washed the dishes, and the little girls started 
 up the stairs to make beds. 
 
 " What shall Sarah do ? " asked Lettie as the new girl 
 stood in the hall and watched the others depart. 
 
 " She may go with Helen," said Miss Hughes, " and 
 learn to make beds. Sarah, go with this girl. She will 
 teach you to make beds properly. Every morning you 
 will help to do it in the dormitory. That will be your 
 share of work for the present." 
 
 But Sarah hung back. " You ain't fair ! " she said to 
 Miss Hughes. " You said I dared see my dog after 
 breakfast and now you ain't lettin' me. Gee, who wants 
 to make beds ! " 
 
 " Sarah," the matron answered very slowly, " you will 
 do just as I tell you. Every girl helps with the work of 
 the house and there is no play until that work is done. 
 When the beds are made you may see your dog and play 
 with him. Now go with Helen." 
 
 Sarah, unaccustomed to obey commands of others ex- 
 cept in school and then in a desultory manner, stood ir- 
 resolute for a moment. She looked up at Miss Hughes, 
 at the clear blue eyes gazing steadily down into hers she 
 turned and without a word started up the stairs.
 
 50 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Ten minutes later while Helen was instructing her in 
 the mysteries of correct bed-making, Sarah suddenly re- 
 pented her yielding to the matron's command and burst 
 out with a vehement, " She's a liar, that's what ! " 
 
 " Who ? Who are you talking about ? " asked Helen 
 and several other little girls in unison. 
 
 " Her, that lady in a white dress," elucidated Sarah. 
 " She said I could go to my dog after breakfast and now 
 she ain't lettin' me. I won't make no beds ! " 
 
 Her burst of anger was cut short by a storm from the 
 others. " Don't you dare talk like that about Miss 
 Hughes! If Lettie hears you you'll be put on punish- 
 ment. Why, Miss Hughes is dandy to us ! " 
 
 " You bet, she's awful nice ! " said another. " When I 
 came here I was bad and she had to put me in the Medi- 
 tation Room and when Lettie came to bring me my sup- 
 per I threw the cup at her and almost hit her. Then 
 Miss Hughes came up and she wasn't afraid, not even 
 when I held up the saucer and wanted to throw it at her. 
 I don't know what happened, but when Miss Hughes 
 looked at me the saucer just got heavy and all of a sudden 
 I couldn't throw it. I was ashamed of myself and I 
 never had to be put in that awful room again. You 
 don't want to get fresh around here and say such things 
 about Miss Hughes or all of us will hate you. She is nice 
 to us, but if you get too bad she has to punish you on the 
 Homestead and if you get awful bad she'll put you in that 
 Meditation Room." 
 
 "What's them?" asked Sarah, her aroused curiosity 
 superseding for the time her sense of injury. 
 
 " Why," Helen informed her, " if you get put on the 
 Homestead it means you stand in the hall with your face 
 turned to the wall and you stand that way until Miss
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 51 
 
 Hughes gives you permission to get off, sometimes an 
 hour, sometimes longer. And if you're getting punished 
 in the Meditation Room whew! that's awful! On the 
 third floor is a little room with just one window and 
 there's a bed, chair and nothing else in it. You get put 
 in, the door is locked and they leave you alone to medi- 
 tate. It's spooky quiet there, you can't even hear the 
 other girls, and it makes you creep and wish you'd be- 
 haved. See, you might as well be good, for you don't 
 gain anything by being bad." 
 
 " Humph," said Sarah slowly, " this is a funny place ! 
 Don't know if I want to stay or not. I might run away." 
 
 " But if you run away," continued Helen, " you'll be 
 caught and brought back. The truant officer goes after 
 all who skiddo. But there ain't many try it, for we like it 
 here on Sunset Mountain. Last year two girls got smart 
 and tried it, climbed on the coping one night and jumped 
 off the porch roof and ran off. The next day the officer 
 brought them back. So you see the best thing to do when 
 you get put here is to behave and see what a nice time you 
 will have. Miss Hughes is good to us. There," she 
 gave a pillow a pat, " the last bed is made. You remem- 
 ber how to tuck in the corners ? " 
 
 " Guess so. I'm goin' to my dog now.'* 
 
 " Well, so you can ; your work is done for a while. Let 
 me tell you don't you talk so about Miss Hughes that 
 Lettie hears you, for she thinks Miss Hughes is the 
 grandest thing that ever lived. You better keep on the 
 good side of Lettie, for she's the monitress." 
 
 " Huh, I ain't afraid o' Lettie ! Ain't afraid of nobody 
 nor nothin' but snakes ! " And with bearing correspond- 
 ing to the brave avowal Sarah marched down the stairs. 
 
 When the children reached the laundry they found
 
 52 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Miss Hughes stooping over the dog. It responded to her 
 petting by exaggerated wagging of its tail, but when 
 Sarah appeared it forgot the presence of all others and 
 ran to her. 
 
 " You dear puppy," she greeted it, " are you glad to 
 see me ? " 
 
 " He is, Sarah," Miss Hughes told her, " he is trying to 
 tell you that. Take him out on the grass a while. The 
 girls will show you what a beautiful home you have found 
 our mountain, the loveliest spot in New Jersey." 
 
 What the new girl saw as she stood with the little girls 
 near the reformatory on Sunset Mountain was indeed, as 
 the matron described it, the loveliest spot in New Jersey. 
 
 The building stood on the very summit of the highest 
 point in that county. It was large and substantial, with 
 its red brick front relieved and beautified by a great pil- 
 lared piazza. But the spacious building sank into insig- 
 nificance beside the beauty and magnificence of the scene 
 around it. 
 
 To the rear of the house were fields and woods ; to the 
 west a dusty gray road went twisting past peach and 
 apple orchards, narrowed to a tiny trail through the heart 
 of a dense woodland, and emerged at last at the edge of a 
 broad highway leading to the city. Before the building 
 was a wide, sloping field where daisies and buttercups 
 grew among the grasses. This field merged into another 
 one dotted with scrubby bushes of sassafras and huckle- 
 berry, and taller growths of hawthorn and birch. Be- 
 yond this field lay wooded tracts, hollows and hills, and 
 one great mountain that lifted its head high into the blue 
 heavens. A little south of the house was a narrow, well- 
 trodden path that led straight from the gravel walk which 
 was around the building and down through the flower-
 
 'SUNSET MOUNTAIN 50 
 
 dotted field into a dense woods. There it twisted and 
 turned among the trees and underbrush until, by a great 
 boulder at the base of a giant oak, it lost itself in the wide 
 dusty road that wound down the side of the steep moun- 
 tain. To right and left the mountain road turned and 
 twisted until it reached the foot of the hill and joined the 
 wide straight road that led to the little town nestling un- 
 der the shadow of Sunset Mountain. 
 
 To the northeast of this mountain was spread a grand 
 sweep of country. One turned instinctively from the 
 near view of fields and woods, however beautiful, and 
 gazed admiringly at the panorama that spread out its 
 glory in the fertile valley beyond the mountain. Like a 
 sharply defined etching the picture held a constant fasci- 
 nation. Miles of green country, dotted with villages and 
 farms, where at night lights gleamed like phosphorescent 
 fireflies; white church steeples pointed upward among 
 the trees and roofs; then, farther on, blue rolling hills 
 hemmed in the fair valley and two rivers, shimmering in 
 the sunlight like silver threads, showed in a gap between 
 two mountain ranges. Sunset Mountain, where the wild 
 wood breath sweeps over the heights, where the clouds 
 hang low behind the stalwart poplars, where Nature is at 
 her best and loveliest Sarah looked at her new home and 
 its surroundings and drew a prolonged breath of ecstasy. 
 A deep appreciation of the place stirred in her as she 
 stood on the summit that first morning. 
 
 " Gee," she cried, " it's bully here ! Must be like that 
 heaven I fixed for the Maloney baby and after I made it 
 all up God went and made it come true. Hope I ain't 
 goin' to die this is too bully to last guess ma'll be 
 yellin' soon for me to get up and chase myself to the store 
 or some place. Say, pinch me."
 
 54 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 The girls laughed. " It is real, and there's lots of nice 
 places here you ain't seen yet." 
 
 " Well, I kinda think me and the dog'll stay a while. 
 Looks soft to me." 
 
 " What's the dog's name ? " asked one. 
 
 " Ain't named him yet." 
 
 " Call him Jack," suggested one. 
 
 " Naw ! " the owner of the animal rejected the sugges- 
 tion contemptuously. " That's a common name. I want 
 a real fine word for that there dog, for he ain't no com- 
 mon trash." 
 
 " Urn," said Helen, " if I had a dog I'd call him after 
 some one I liked." 
 
 " That's the ticket ! Ain't nobody I like but me pa, so 
 I guess I'll call him Jerry." 
 
 " Oh, let's christen him," suggested one of the girls. 
 
 "What's that? Will it hurt him? I ain't havin' 
 nothin' hurt that there dog." 
 
 " Aw, christenin' won't hurt him. I went to the church 
 when my little sister was christened and they just put 
 water on her head and a man said a prayer and then she 
 was named and nobody can ever change it." 
 
 "All right," agreed Sarah, " I think it would be good to 
 do that to the dog, then he'll be named proper." 
 
 Helen ran for water and the children gathered in a 
 circle round the animal. Sarah dipped her fingers in the 
 bowl, sprayed a few drops on the head of the patient dog, 
 then said, " You're Jerry, that's your name." 
 
 " Oh, say a prayer, quick before the water dries off," 
 prompted Helen. 
 
 So, while the dog wriggled about in wonder his little 
 mistress held him tightly in her arms and prayed hur- 
 riedly, " Dear God, I want my dog to be named Jerry like
 
 SUNSET MOUNTAIN 55 
 
 my pa. But I want him to have a better time than my pa, 
 for he got pinched, but I guess you know about it. Please 
 fix it so that me pa can come out o' jail and live in a nice 
 place like I got sent to. Pa ain't the right kind o' bad, 
 not like some of the men in Red Rose Court. You fixed 
 the heaven for the Maloney baby, can't you fix something 
 good for my pa and I guess that's all." 
 
 " Amen," prompted Helen. 
 
 "Amen," said Sarah solemnly. 
 
 " That's a funny prayer for a christening, but I guess 
 it don't matter long as it's only a dog," was the comment 
 of one of the girls. 
 
 " Sure not," agreed the owner of the animal. "All 
 that's necessary is to have a prayer, don't matter what 
 kind."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 
 
 Miss HUGHES, the matron of the cottage on Sunset 
 Mountain, was Irish, pure and unadulterated. This fact 
 might be named as a contributing cause for her big heart. 
 In her youth she had taken to herself two motherless chil- 
 dren of her elder brother, . taught them, loved them and 
 worked for them until they were grown into womanhood 
 and left her home for new ones of their own making. 
 Then Miss Hughes found herself, a woman of forty-five, 
 with strong hands and a courageous heart, eager to find 
 some niche in which she could labor for the good of hu- 
 manity. She found that niche in the city reformatory, 
 and a big place it was, with troubled waters about it. 
 But the dauntless courage that had lived in her Irish 
 peers, Robert Emmet, Patrick Henry and others of equal 
 calibre, lived and moved in her. So she stepped into the 
 place with high hope and strong faith. 
 
 Before she went to take charge of the girls on Sunset 
 Mountain there were threats of riot among them. Her 
 predecessor, loath to surrender the reins of government, 
 had planted mutinous seeds in the fertile hearts of the in- 
 corrigibles. But Miss Hughes entered calmly, took hold 
 of the sceptre and before she ruled a month in the cottage 
 on the mountain every girl loved her. Little girls whom 
 parents and teachers considered incorrigible, tiny waifs 
 their parents incarcerated for some penal transgression of 
 the law older ones who had fled to New York and were
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 57 
 
 brought to the mountain with sin and rebellion in their 
 hearts and defiance upon their faces every girl, one by 
 one, fell under the beneficial influence of the new matron. 
 Which does not mean that they were suddenly, miracu- 
 lously transformed into spotless creatures, for the ten- 
 dencies of years are seldom turned in a night, the sins of 
 long indulgence are not often changed at first attempts. 
 But it does mean that Miss Hughes was gifted with that 
 happy faculty of finding and fostering the latent best in 
 others and that a real reformation was slowly but steadily 
 taking place among the girls. 
 
 Sarah, too, felt an irresistible desire to please the 
 woman who had taken her into the big building on the 
 mountain and been so kind to her. The white dress Miss 
 Hughes wore while on duty had a strange attraction for 
 the new girl. Just to get near it and look at its snowy 
 surface, to furtively touch the starched skirt and wonder 
 how on earth it was kept so white for so long a time, was 
 a satisfaction to the child of Red Rose Court, where noth- 
 ing was ever spotlessly white for any length of time. 
 Under the influence of Miss Hughes the activities of the 
 new girl were gradually turned into proper and useful 
 channels. As the child had been quick to imitate and 
 adopt the grotesque slang and irreverent expressions of 
 the slums, she was equally eager to pattern after Miss 
 Hughes and learn new expressions and use less offensive 
 language. The strong, inherent tendency of childhood to 
 imitate others assisted greatly in the evolution of a more 
 obedient, attractive Sarah. But there were many things 
 which perplexed the child of Red Rose Court. If she 
 had ever had a mother's training the uncertainties of her 
 heart might have dissolved into faith. But she had lost 
 her own mother in babyhood and had not even a vague
 
 58 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB? 
 
 recollection of any smiling face bending over her. Then 
 had come the miserable existence of Red Rose Court, the 
 absence of her father and the discovery of the secret 
 room beyond the closet, the unhealthy influence of the 
 dull, sordid people of the slums, fortunately leavened by 
 the wise, philosophical sayings of Mrs. Maloney. Sarah 
 had learned early to wrest from existence the slight 
 crumbs of happiness. Withered flowers from ash-boxes 
 of the more fortunate, bits of tawdry finery discarded by 
 them, were gathered while she watched cannily for the 
 officers of the law who were so eager to call skiddp to the 
 dirty, ragged child. Her thin legs learned early to flee 
 with the swiftness of Hermes from the bluecoats, and her 
 lips curled in childhood at law, order and its agents. 
 
 " Why do you call this a reform' tory ? " she asked Miss 
 Hughes one day soon after her arrival. 
 
 " Reform means to make over," the woman informed 
 her. 
 
 " Huh, then you got some job on your hands, I'll say ! 
 I'd begin, if I was you, on that girl with the crooked nose 
 and that one that's got tombstones for teeth in her trap. 
 I hope when you make me over you'll cut out the freckles 
 and give me golden hair like a fairy and make me blue 
 eyes like a doll." 
 
 " Child," Miss Hughes told her gently, " we don't try 
 to change the faces of the girls, just the hearts. But if 
 your heart is right your face will be lovelier." 
 
 "Hully gee," cried Sarah gleefully, " then some guys 
 got awful rotten hearts if you can take it from their 
 faces ! Why, there's a bad man in Red Rose Court most 
 o' the kids'd run a mile from when he was drunk, for his 
 face looked like the devil had got inside his skin sure. It 
 was screwed in a knot. I punched him in the jaw once
 
 SARAH'S LESSON ^ 59 
 
 he got fresh with me, then I run and he was too drunk to 
 catch me. Mrs. Maloney used to say he had a face, or a 
 mouth, I mean, like a poor man's lease from 'ear to 
 'ear." 
 
 " Sarah ! " exclaimed the matron, " are you Irish ? " 
 " Sure Mike ; that is half o' me is. Me father ain't, but 
 even if he wouldn't tell me where his relations are and 
 what they are, I know he's German bad luck to it, I hate 
 them Germans, all but my pa. He's one o' the nice kind. 
 Mrs. Maloney says it's like this with the Irish: there's 
 dirty Irish and there's nice Irish. She was one o' the 
 nice kind sure as guns ! But she's poor, so poor she got 
 to work since her man got hurt and died in the horspital. 
 Guess it's a good thing the baby died 'fore I come away 
 from the Court for I took care of it when she went to 
 work. She cried and felt bad but she said it must be a 
 blessing after all guess mebbe that there God she talks 
 about ain't such a chump after all. He took her baby to 
 heaven 'cause I was comin' here and He give me a dog 
 that I could bring with me where I couldn't brought the 
 baby. But just the same it's darned hard to have that 
 poor kid sick o' the heat and die that way. Mrs. Maloney, 
 now, she's grand! Always laughin' she is and that with 
 all her trouble and bein' so poor. She says such funny 
 things, like, 'The Lord never shuts one door but He opens 
 another.' Guess it's the luck o' the Irish to be laughin' 
 when they ain't got two cents to rub together. Mrs. 
 Maloney said once she knows who God likes best, that He 
 must love the Irish most for He taught them how to laugh. 
 Me, I'm half Irish, for me mother was that. Pa says she 
 was happy and like a sunbeam and if she hadn't died, him 
 and me'd be a lot better than we are. But when I get out 
 this place and he gets out o' jail, me and him's goin' to
 
 60. THE MADONNA OF THE CURB! T 
 
 have a nice house some place and I bet your life I'll keep 
 it like this place. I never knowed a house can be so clean, 
 thought just horspitals is like this. 'But, gee, mebbe it 
 ain't swell to eat off clean dishes and sleep in a white bed 
 and have the floors so that you could eat off 'em in a 
 pinch!" 
 
 " Did you ever hear that ' Cleanliness is next to Godli- 
 ness '?" 
 
 " Godliness what's that ? " 
 
 " Being good." 
 
 " Huh, next to it it beats it all hollow and it's a darned 
 sight more comfort'ble." 
 
 The days passed uneventfully to the minds of the other 
 girls on Sunset Mountain but to Sarah they brought an 
 intoxicating introduction with Nature. For the first time 
 in her starved life the child of Red Rose Court roamed 
 through fields and woods and drank deeply of pure moun- 
 tain air. 
 
 Each morning during the summer months after the 
 allotted tasks were done Miss Hughes and the girls went 
 for a walk, an important part of the daily routine of the 
 reformatory during the regime of Miss Hughes. 
 
 Sometimes they followed the road that wound past the 
 orchards and entered the woods. Then the girls, tread- 
 ing among the damp mosses or stepping from rock to 
 rock, searched for ferns and dug them from the black 
 mold. They carried them, hardy sword fern or fragile 
 maidenhair, to the house and planted them. Sometimes 
 they crossed the grass at the rear of the house and wan- 
 dered in the wide field of waving daisies and brown-eyed 
 Susans which grew so tall that the little girls waded 
 waist-deep through the white and yellow sea of bloom. 
 Then the girls gathered armfuls of the blossoms and
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 61 
 
 carried them to the wide halls and rooms of the build- 
 ing. 
 
 Sometimes they walked through the grasses and wild 
 flowers near the front piazza, and winding their way in 
 and out among the young silver birches, came to a field 
 where wild strawberries grew in abundance, and later in 
 the summer huckleberries and blackberries waited to be 
 picked. 
 
 Sometimes they chose the gray road from which they 
 looked away over the valley. But they never stood quiet 
 for any length of time to look over the familiar pano- 
 rama, but went lightly down the road that wound around 
 the great hill until it reached the foot where the boys' 
 quarters were. Then it went on evenly past houses and 
 bungalows to a busy, noisy street where cars and wagons 
 rumbled in great contrast to the peaceful quiet of the 
 mountain. However, the girls seldom went out to that 
 dusty highway except upon the Sabbath. Then they 
 walked down the hill, sat decorously during the service of 
 worship in a little brown chapel that faced the busy street, 
 and at noon returned once more to the summit of the 
 mountain. 
 
 Rude log steps were fitted into the steep mountainside 
 and to these Miss Hughes frequently brought the girls to 
 gather the wild flowers that grew in abundance on either 
 side of them. The whole mountainside was a treasure 
 trove : trees, centuries old oak, poplar, birch, walnut and 
 chestnut grew so closely that their branches were inter- 
 woven. They formed ideal nesting-places for the my- 
 riads of birds who loved that secluded woodland. The 
 girls, guided by Miss Hughes, became observant and 
 gradually learned to differentiate between the feathered 
 neighbors, their names, habits, songs and nesting-places.
 
 62 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 The flowers that grew on that mountainside ! One por- 
 tion of the hill was a home of a flaming host of speckled 
 lilies. A huge boulder partially imbedded in the woods 
 bore upon its top a great clump of wild columbine. 
 Along the edges of the wood pink clover stored its nectar 
 for the bees, and wild roses and violets bloomed in their 
 seasons. Goldenrod and asters made royal robes of lav- 
 ish beauty for the autumn coronation of the woods and a 
 hundred less conspicuous yet not less lovely blossoms 
 embroidered each nook and open road on Sunset Moun- 
 tain. 
 
 So, each day, whether they followed the road to wood 
 or field, the girls of the reformatory drew closer to the 
 bosom of Mother Nature, the little group of unfortunate 
 children learned invaluable lessons from God's bright 
 mountain top. And always the center of the group, the 
 controlling, guiding spirit, was Miss Hughes. Smiling, 
 cheering, loving, encouraging, helping; her heart filled 
 and overflowing with real kindness and patience ; her life 
 an unceasing fountain of gladness, courage and inspira- 
 tion she was able, as few others would have been in her 
 place, to win from each girl the good that lay dormant, to 
 teach the wayward ones to pick up the tangled skeins and 
 begin new patterns. 
 
 Sarah's initiation into the mysteries of the fields and 
 woods was an hour of keen, intense joy. With Jerry 
 frisking at her side she followed the girls and Miss 
 Hughes down the mountainside on her first walk. 
 
 " Oh, look ! " she cried. " What park is that ? " 
 
 " Park ! " echoed the girls with laughter. " This be- 
 longs to the city and is for us to enjoy." 
 
 " Gee, hully gee ' She became speechless with 
 
 wonder, but the phenomenal condition did not endure
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 63 
 
 long. Her attention was attracted by a splotch of vivid 
 red. " Look," she pointed to a bush growing on the side 
 of the hill, " there's a red ribbon hangin' on that little 
 tree. Guess one of youse kids musta lost it." 
 
 The girls laughed as they drew nearer to the red object 
 and it suddenly rose and flew away. 
 
 " A bird ! " Sarah gasped. " A red bird ! " 
 
 " That's a scarlet tanager. Miss Hughes told us all 
 about it," one of the girls informed the newcomer. 
 " That's the father bird and the mother bird is green, so 
 that when she sits on the nest bad boys can't see her and 
 shoot." 
 
 " Humph," said Sarah thoughtfully, " God's good to 
 birds, ain't He, most gooder'n to people ? " 
 
 The next day she confided to Jerry, " Say, I learned 
 something yesterday you gotta know, 'cause I tell you 
 everything I learn so you can grow in that fine dog like 
 people say you are. I learned that God's good to birds. 
 Miss Hughes says I have to learn to be fine so I'll match 
 you, that I can't learn you nothin' I don't know myself, 
 and I guess that's about right. You must learn to be 
 kind and obedient. I learned from Miss Hughes that it 
 ain't smart to do mean things to people, that's cowardly. 
 She says, too, it ain't nice to say things I used to say all 
 the time in Red Rose Court. My, that must be a dread- 
 ful place! We got to stop sayin' devil. Miss Hughes 
 says nice, refined people don't say it bet your buttons 
 they think it sometimes, though, don't you? But mind 
 you, Jerry, if I forget and say them bad words don't you 
 dare wag your tail at me and laugh like it was funny, 
 don't you dare ! We got to stop bein' that way and act 
 like ladies, you and me. We like it pretty good here, don't 
 we? Ain't you glad now that bad boy hurt you and I
 
 64 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 took you from him and brought you here ? I knew you 
 was ! We like it here and we like the dresses and things 
 to eat and the walks and the people, all but Lettie. We 
 don't like her none, do we? She's too fresh and bossy 
 and she laughed at me once." 
 
 It was true, Sarah persistently refused to be friendly 
 with the monitress. The bright sayings of the new girl, 
 the fact that Jerry was hers, and the magnetism of her 
 personality, won for her the warm admiration and affec- 
 tion of the girls. But there existed a subdued hostility 
 between Sarah and Lettie, due to the impulsive prejudice 
 of the former when the older girl had ridiculed her. 
 Sarah had a tantalizing way of uplifting her thin, pointed 
 chin and pug nose perceptibly higher when she met Let- 
 tie, but the older girl took no apparent notice of the dis- 
 like, though she sometimes commented to herself, " Dis- 
 agreeable, hateful brat ! I'd like to shake her ! " 
 
 One day the smouldering hate in the heart of Sarah 
 leaped into active blaze. Miss Hughes, called to the city 
 upon urgent business, gathered the girls together and told 
 them she trusted every one to obey Lettie during the time 
 they were without a matron. 
 
 " We'll be good, Miss Hughes," they promised her ; 
 " we won't give Lettie a bit of trouble." 
 
 " I'm sure you will do as she tells you, girls. Lettie 
 and Miss Mary will manage things until I come back. 
 Good-bye, girls." 
 
 " Good-bye, Miss Hughes," they called after her as 
 she went down the hill. " Don't forget to come back to 
 us." 
 
 The older girls returned to the kitchen where Miss 
 Mary, housekeeper and teacher of cooking, was directing 
 the making of savory preserves; the little girls gathered
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 65 
 
 to play under the sheltering branches of an apple tree 
 quite close to the house. 
 
 " Did any of you girls ever run away ? " Sarah asked 
 suddenly as they played with their dolls. 
 
 " No, oh, no ! " chorused the girls. " We don't want 
 to run away. We like it here. Why did you ask that ? " 
 
 " I just wondered if any one ever had the spunk to do 
 it" 
 
 " Oh, if one of us ran away now when Miss Hughes 
 is out and Lettie has charge of us wouldn't Lettie be 
 sore ! Here she comes now. Lettie, would you be mad if 
 one of us would run away for you ? " 
 
 " Run away ? " echoed the monitress. " You're all 
 afraid to do that. Go on, play with your dolls." 
 
 " Yes, that's more fun," said Helen. 
 
 A little later Sarah suggested, "Let's play hide-and- 
 go-seek. I'm tired of dolls." 
 
 " Who'll be it ? " The children danced about on the 
 grass. " I'll count out and see," said Helen. " ' My 
 mother told me to take this one. One, two, three, out 
 goes she.' There, you're it ! " she pointed triumphantly 
 to one of the smaller children. " You hold the dog 
 while you hide your face and count or he'll run after 
 us and give us away. Now no fair peeping ! " 
 
 " All right. I'll count fifty. Remember, no going in 
 
 the house! Go on " she hid her face and began to 
 
 count and the little girls scampered in all directions. 
 
 As she cried, " Fifty ! " she put Jerry down. He 
 started off briskly on the road that led past the orchards 
 and through the woods. 
 
 " Here, Jerry," she called, " no one is down there. 
 Come back ! " But he ran off unheedingly. 
 
 In a short time all except Sarah were found.
 
 66 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " I can't find Sarah," the girl pouted. " I looked every- 
 where for her. Did any of you see where she went? " 
 
 " No," each protested. 
 
 " Well, Jerry went down that way," she pointed to the 
 gray road. " I called him but he wouldn't come 
 back " 
 
 " Look there ! " cried Helen excitedly. " There she 
 goes ! " 
 
 A break in the trees showed for an instant the fleeing 
 figure of a child in a blue chambray dress. 
 
 " She's running away ! " cried the children. " Call 
 Lettie and we'll go after her ! " 
 
 In a moment the place was buzzing with excitement. 
 Miss Mary, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a worried 
 expression on her fine, patient face, stood in the doorway 
 and watched the pursuers start after the runaway. " It's 
 just too bad this had to happen when Miss Hughes is 
 away," she murmured. 
 
 Clouds of dust rose from the road as Lettie and a 
 number of other girls ran after Sarah. For a quarter 
 mile they ran, pausing sometimes to regain breath and 
 gather fresh impetus. But, as the road was full of 
 curves, they caught never a glimpse of the runaway. 
 
 " Perhaps she stopped and went in the woods," sug- 
 gested one of the girls. 
 
 " No," was Lettie's opinion, " I believe she went on to 
 the pike. We better go straight ahead." 
 
 Finally they reached the end of the road through the 
 woods and came to the broad highway. There, standing 
 pantingly in the middle of the road, was Sarah. 
 
 When she saw the excited crowd of girls running to- 
 ward her she advanced to meet them. Her hair hung in 
 great disorder, her face glowed scarlet through the
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 67 
 
 freckles, and there hovered a sarcastic little smile in her 
 eyes and a twitching crooked smile about her mouth that 
 stirred wrath in the heart of Lettie. When Sarah spoke 
 she added new fuel to that wrath: 
 
 " 'Lo, Lettie, are you lookin' for me ? My, you sure 
 must like me if you run like that to catch me on a day 
 like this ! It's some hot to run, ain't it? " 
 
 "You bad little thing!" Lettie retorted. "You 
 need a capital spanking! I have a notion to give it to 
 you." 
 
 " Go ahead," said the culprit calmly. " I ain't afraid 
 of you. I ain't afraid of nobody nor nothin' but snakes," 
 she added with an impish grin. 
 
 " Wish I had a few wriggly ones to scare you half to 
 death," said the monitress as she wiped the perspiration 
 from her face. " Where's Jerry ? What did you do with 
 him?" 
 
 " Me ? " Sarah cried in quick alarm. " I don't have 
 him!" 
 
 " He followed you," said one of the girls. " He ran 
 this way and wouldn't come back when we called him. 
 Now he's lost." 
 
 " He's lost," repeated Lettie firmly, " and it serves you 
 just good and right, Sarah Burkhart! I hope he never 
 comes back to you! I guess he ran after you and 
 couldn't find you and now he's lost in the woods and 
 you'll never see him again. If some of those people who 
 live down here get a hold of him they'll chain him 
 and keep him. See what you get for being fresh and 
 making us all this trouble! He's too little to find the 
 way home alone. Serves you right, Sarah Burkhart ! " 
 
 Sarah's face paled. " I'm goin' to find him ! " she said 
 tremblingly, all her bravado crumbled at the loss of her
 
 68 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB" 
 
 pet. She turned to the woods and called loudly, " 
 Jerry!" 
 
 The other girls stood, eagerly listening, but no answer 
 came to the child's distressed cry. 
 
 " I got to find him " her voice quavered " I can't let 
 him be lost." 
 
 She brushed her way through the tangled bushes and 
 weeds and entered the dense woods. 
 
 " Come back," ordered Lettie. " You'll get lost too in 
 that woods." 
 
 Sarah paid no heed to Lettie and the latter repeated 
 her command. 
 
 " I don't care if I do get lost if he's lost," the child 
 said defiantly, " and I won't come out till I find my dog ! 
 I want my dog ! " She shook her head determinedly and 
 went farther into the woods. 
 
 Lettie whispered to the girls as a sudden thought came 
 to her, " Let her go a while. I'll get her out watch her 
 jump ! " 
 
 " Here, Jerry, Jerry," the little mistress called tear- 
 fully, 
 
 " Oh," cried Lettie, " a snake ! " 
 
 Sarah screamed in terror and stood as though petri- 
 fied. "Where? "she cried. 
 
 " Coming toward you from the back ! " 
 
 With another scream the girl rushed through the 
 bushes and stood panting in the road. Then the girls 
 burst into hearty laughter. Sarah looked at them in be- 
 wilderment a moment until she guessed the cause of their 
 merriment. 
 
 " You lied ! " she hurled the words fiercely at Lettie. 
 " You Hed to me ! " 
 
 A wave of hot anger flooded over her. In a second
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 69 
 
 she stooped, picked up a stone and aimed it at Lettie. 
 Simultaneously with the uplifting of her small hand there 
 was a stir in the bushes upon the opposite side of the 
 road. Lettie, seeing the anger in the child's face, dodged 
 quickly to one side and the missile intended for her struck 
 Jerry as he came leaping through the bushes to Sarah. 
 The jagged stone struck his paw and he gave one yelp of 
 pain, rolled over on his side and extended his bleeding 
 paw to his mistress. 
 
 Sarah stooped over him, gazed into his piteous eyes 
 and cried, " My doggie, my doggie, did I kill him ? " 
 
 " Oh, you hurt him ! " the girls cried in resentment and 
 pity. " You hurt him ! " 
 
 But Sarah did not answer. Tears streamed from her 
 eyes as she spoke to the dog. " Oh, Jerry, don't die ! 
 You come to me in the place of the Maloney baby, now 
 don't go off to heaven like it did ! I didn't mean to hurt 
 you, honest, cross my heart, I didn't! Don't die, don't 
 you die ! " 
 
 She picked him up, regardless of the blood that 
 streamed from his paw and stained her blue chambray 
 dress. 
 
 " Quit your crying," said Lettie in a tone of authority, 
 yet a bit tender considering the passage of angry words 
 that had so recently taken place. " Come on home. I'll 
 fix him." 
 
 " Can you fix him so he won't die for me ? " Sarah 
 turned a blotched, smeared face to her erstwhile enemy. 
 "If you can make him well, Lettie, I'll like you most as 
 much as I like him." She looked appealingly at the older 
 
 girl. 
 
 " Ah, he won't die. He's just cut a little. We can 
 fix it."
 
 70 THE MADONNA OF THE CURS 
 
 The little procession went home silently. When they 
 reached the shade of the apple tree Lettie said, " You sit 
 on the grass here and I'll get some water and a cloth." 
 
 The other girls crowded near but Lettie ordered them 
 to stand back as she came bringing water and bandage. 
 She bathed the wounded paw and wrapped it in the 
 white cloth, while Sarah watched, all the remorse, solici- 
 tude and gratitude of her heart written on her face. 
 When the dressing was completed the mistress of the 
 wounded animal looked into the face of the Good 
 Samaritan and said, " Lettie, I ain't ever liked you since 
 I come here because you laughed at me for wearin' my 
 nightgown hind-side-before and callin' me a goose. But 
 now you fixed Jerry so he don't die on me and I'm 
 likin' you a whole lot." 
 
 The apology, crude yet sincere, touched the older girl 
 and she replied, " I won't laugh at you any more. I'm 
 sorry about the dog but I know he'll soon be same as 
 ever. I'll tell Miss Hughes it was my fault for I fooled 
 you about the snake. Now go change your dress and 
 bring this one down and I'll wash the blood out of it." 
 
 The hot afternoon was merging, on Sunset Mountain, 
 into a pleasantly cool evening when Miss Hughes re- 
 turned from the city. The blazing sun that all day had 
 scorched and burned with intense, relentless heat, had 
 disappeared behind the great wooded hill in the west. 
 In its track the painted glory of sunset was diffusing its 
 colors through the sky. It flamed first in crimson and 
 orange, then softened into amber and yellow and, even 
 as the children on the wide piazza watched it with eager 
 interest, the colors changed. Deeper shadows rested 
 upon the distant hills, the western expanse of sky dulled 
 into violet and faint rose, and finally the last tinge of
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 71' 
 
 glory faded and the deep blue of early evening hung 
 above the mountain. 
 
 As the last brightness died a sudden call echoed from 
 the path that led to the mountain. " Oo-oo," came Miss 
 Hughes' call. 
 
 " Oo-oo," the girls answered and ran to meet her. 
 
 Sarah hung back. She stood by one of the pillars of 
 the porch, while Jerry, wagging his tail, looked question- 
 ingly up at her and urged her to follow the girls. 
 
 " You go, Jerry. But I was so bad to-day that I'm 
 ashamed to." But the dog stood faithfully by his mis- 
 tress while the other girls ran gaily down the path. As 
 the matron, surrounded by the eager, chattering girls, 
 came up the grassy slope, she looked in surprise at the 
 lone figure leaning against the pillar. 
 
 " All alone, Sarah ? " she asked pleasantly. Then, as 
 she noted the flash of white bandage on the dog's paw, 
 she said, " What happened to Jerry ? " 
 
 " Sarah hurt him ! " cried one girl, anxious to impart 
 the news to Miss Hughes, in spite of Lettie's warning to 
 keep silent. 
 
 Sarah hung her head and turned away a moment, then 
 she raised it bravely and said, " You know I didn't mean 
 to hurt him! " 
 
 The accent upon the last word conveyed to Miss 
 Hughes an inkling of what had happened. " We'll let 
 Sarah tell me," she said. " You girls stay on the porch 
 a while and Sarah will come inside with me." 
 
 When the two entered the cool sitting-room Miss 
 Hughes removed her hat and gloves and drew a chair to 
 the open window through whose wide-flung curtains the 
 deepening twilight entered. 
 
 "Come here, Sarah " the woman put out a hand
 
 72 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 to draw the child closer, so that the little hands of the 
 girl rested upon the broad knees of the matron. 
 
 Then Miss Hughes looked searchingly into the face 
 of the child. " What is wrong ? Tell me about it," she 
 invited gently. 
 
 " I'm wrong I'm so darned rotten bad that I guess I 
 ain't ever goin' to learn to act like a lady. I'm ashamed 
 I was bad when you went off and after I promised 
 you to behave. But I saw a chance to get even with 
 Lettie for her laughin' at me when I first come and 
 callin' me a goose that I clean forgot all about what I 
 promised you. I ran away just to spite her." 
 
 " Where were you going ? " 
 
 " Nowheres. I got no place to go to. I was goin' to 
 walk around that road a while and then come back, but 
 the girls saw me and came after me and then I threw a 
 stone at Lettie and it hit poor Jerry and like to killed 
 .him. Guess if Lettie hadn't fixed it and made it stop 
 bleedin' mebbe he mighta died on me." 
 
 " Well," came Miss Hughes' slow query, " did your 
 running away to tease Lettie make you happier ? " 
 
 " No. I it hurts me in here " she put a hand to 
 her thin throat " I never felt like this in here before. 
 Guess it's because I remember now when it's too late to 
 do me any good what you told me about gettin' cross and 
 wantin' to fight. I used to think in Red Rose Court that 
 the best fighter was the bravest person, but you say it's 
 not always brave to fight." 
 
 " No, child, sometimes it's cowardly. The brave peo- 
 ple are the ones who can control their tempers and not 
 have to get what they want by using their fists. You 
 forgot that when you ran away to tease Lettie you were 
 grieving me, did you ? "
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 73 
 
 " No, I didn't think of that nor nothin' else. I just 
 got hot inside o' me. Guess I'm awful bad." 
 
 " No, Sarah, you are not bad. You have been dis- 
 obedient and allowed your hasty temper to rule you for 
 a time, but I am sure you have learned a good lesson to- 
 day. You see how your anger and foolish prejudice 
 against Lettie have made you hurt the very one you would 
 not wish to harm poor Jerry. We usually do something 
 like that when we allow anger and evil passions to rule 
 us; we very often bring suffering to the ones we love 
 most. I want you to grow into a noble woman ' 
 
 " Like my real ma was," came the eager words. " My 
 pa often told me she was the grandest lady ever lived. 
 She was Irish and an actress and I'd like to be just like 
 her so that when he comes out he'll be surprised." 
 
 A strange yearning for the little motherless girl took 
 possession of Miss Hughes; she put her arm about the 
 child. 
 
 Sarah looked up in surprise, then made a little loving 
 gesture with her head. " You're nice to me and I like 
 you," she said with the frankness of childhood. " I like 
 when you hold me like that, for nobody never done it 
 to me before, not that I can remember. Bet my mother 
 used to love and kiss me but I was so little I forget it. 
 I'm goin' to be good for you, honest I am, cross my 
 heart!" 
 
 " I hope so, Sarah ; in fact, I know so." 
 
 " What made that funny hurt in my neck when I was 
 bad?" 
 
 " Your conscience." 
 
 " Oh, that's what pa's got ! Ma said he had and that's 
 why he wanted to stop makin' bad money and get away 
 to the country where he could live right. If only he'd
 
 74 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 had his conscience hurt him a little sooner then mebbe 
 we'd gotten off safe. Gee, that there conscience hurts 
 worse than bein' licked ! Does it ever hurt when you're 
 good?" 
 
 " No, it worries us only when we do wrong." 
 
 " Then I'll do my darndest to keep out o' bad things 
 for I don't ever want that hurt in my neck." 
 
 When Sarah and Miss Hughes returned to the girls 
 on the wide porch the twilight had deepened into dark- 
 ness. The matron at once became the center of a happy 
 crowd. The girls sat at her feet and on chairs close to 
 her side. 
 
 " Lots of stars, Miss Hughes," remarked one. " Oh," 
 cried another, " we had a pretty sunset ! Did you see 
 it?" 
 
 " I caught glimpses of it from the car window but I 
 know it must have been gorgeous on Sunset Mountain 
 for here we have the big sweep of sky." 
 
 " This is some dandy place. I'd like to stay here al- 
 ways," was the hearty expression of one little child. 
 
 " Me too," said Sarah. " I'd like to stay here till my 
 pa comes out and takes me with him." 
 
 The girls rejoiced in that remark, for by it they knew 
 that peace reigned in their little kingdom. 
 
 Evening on Sunset Mountain was worthy of the rhap- 
 sodies of the girls and Miss Hughes. Among the clumps 
 of birches fireflies flashed spurts of light; on the grasses 
 near the porch glowworms gleamed as though the stars 
 reflected in their bosoms; far away, in the valley, lights 
 twinkled in cottage and mansion; in the dim distance, 
 beyond the silvered rivers, shone the lights of New York 
 City; and above it all hung a radiant moon and the 
 countless stars of a summer night.
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 75 
 
 The influence of the night radiance crept into the hearts 
 of the girls, till they sang their favorite songs so softly 
 that the sleeping woodland creatures scarcely awoke. 
 Finally one of the girls pleaded, " Sing to us, Miss 
 Hughes." 
 
 Others took up the request. " Oh, yes, something nice 
 and lively, please do ! " they clamored until Miss Hughes 
 held up her hands in surrender. 
 
 " I'll sing," she promised and the next moment burst 
 into the rippling " Killarney." 
 
 " There," she laughed when the song was done, " was 
 that lively enough ? " 
 
 " I can dance to that," said Sarah. 
 
 " Oh, do it, Sarah ! May she, Miss Hughes ? " cried 
 the girls. 
 
 " Yes, go ahead, Sarah," agreed the matron. 
 
 Sarah withdrew to one end of the long porch. Then 
 as Miss Hughes repeated the song the child danced. It 
 was an original, elf-like dance, like the frolic of the 
 Irish Little Folk. Every movement of the slight figure 
 was the epitome of grace; she bent and swayed with the 
 noiseless ease of a butterfly. 
 
 As the dance ended the girls clapped their hands in 
 hearty applause. 
 
 " Where did you learn that ? " asked Miss Hughes. 
 
 " From myself," was the grave reply. " In summer 
 lots o' hurdy-gurdys come to the street outside Red Rose 
 Court and we used to dance round in the Court and have 
 more fun'n you could shake a stick at. I learned myself 
 to dance to most any tune that I heard. I just make 
 believe I'm what the music says and then it gets into me 
 and I let it move me like it wants to. I used to make 
 believe I was a bird and went flying way off over the
 
 76 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 houses and factories and out to the country where the 
 trees and grass and flowers are. But I never could 
 'magine the country was as nice as this " her avidity 
 for nature knowledge and communion was betrayed in 
 the tremulousness of her deep voice "why I would have 
 called any person a liar who told me that you can honest- 
 to-goodness watch the birds on their nests and go so near 
 them you can see their eyes lookin' at you like they want 
 to talk to you and ask you not to please hurt the eggs 
 or babies! Funny, now here I am in the very country 
 I used to dream about and make believe I was in when 
 the music played fast, jingly things. In Red Rose Court, 
 crowded and dirty and smelly I used to pretend I could 
 fly like a bird and here I am where nothin's crowded 
 'cept the trees and flowers." 
 
 The children, unable to comprehend the full signifi- 
 cance of Sarah's flights of imagination, laughed kindly 
 at her. " You're a queer kid ! " they told her. But Miss 
 Hughes was mentally analyzing the child of Red Rose 
 Court: all activity and energy; intense in her likes and 
 dislikes ; variable in her moods ; bubbling over with sheer 
 exuberance of spirits ; imaginative to a high degree ; sus- 
 ceptible to keen sorrow and equally exquisite joy; made 
 to love and be loved with all the concentrated force of 
 womanhood a child after her own heart ! 
 
 The motherless girl could not know it then, though she 
 realized it in later years, that that night the great mother- 
 yearning the divine gift that dwells in every noble 
 woman's heart went out from Miss Hughes to the little 
 girl and began its inspired ministrations for her. The 
 child could not know the feelings she stirred in the 
 breast of the matron who was, first of all, a mother at 
 heart; the magnitude of the love stimulated in the Irish
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 77 
 
 woman who was destined to become a guiding influence 
 in the child from the slums; but instinct told Sarah of 
 the tenderness in the matron's heart for her and when 
 presently Miss Hughes responded to the call for an- 
 other song, Sarah sat with one arm thrown affectionately 
 upon the broad knees of the singer. 
 
 " Sing something soft this time," one asked. Miss 
 Hughes responded with that old, old song, so rich in true 
 sentiment, " Believe Me if All Those Endearing Young 
 Charms." 
 
 The years had taken from the woman's voice much of 
 its strength and sweetness, yet the song pleased and 
 touched the little group upon the porch of the reforma- 
 tory. When she had sung the last verse with an added 
 tenderness : 
 
 " No the heart that has truly loved never forgets 
 
 But as truly loves on to the close : 
 As the sunflower turns on her God when he sets 
 The same look which she burned when he rose," 
 
 Sarah exclaimed, " Oh, I like that last part ! That means 
 that when you love a person you love them for keeps, 
 don't it ? You sang it like you meant it, Miss Hughes." 
 
 " I do mean it, child." The matron rose. " Come. It 
 is time to go in." 
 
 The blue-clad girls formed into line and entered the 
 house. They went to the schoolroom and after each had 
 taken her place Lettie sat down before the old-fashioned 
 piano and Miss Hughes took her customary place by the 
 desk facing the girls. 
 
 " What hymn to-night ? " she asked the girl to whom 
 that day brought the privilege of choosing the hymns at 
 prayers.
 
 78 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " ' Lead Kindly Light/ please," came the ready answer. 
 Smiles of approval shone upon the faces of many girls, 
 but each one sat with hands folded and body erect as 
 Lettie played the opening bars. 
 
 Then the song rose: tender, sweet, pulsating. Miss 
 Hughes joined in it, her heart throbbed with a great love 
 and pity as the beautiful lines fell from her lips. Did 
 the girls realize what the words meant ? 
 
 " The night is dark and I am far from home " 
 
 little girls whose eyes were wistful with hunger for 
 mother-love and their inalienable rights to the shelter 
 and joys of a happy home; tiny children whose brief 
 years had been shadowed by fear and suffering, dark- 
 ened by poverty and begging, haunted by vice and cor- 
 ruption; little girls, robbed of their birthrights, sang 
 sweetly : 
 
 " Keep Thou my feet, I do not ask to see 
 The distant scene one step enough for me." 
 
 Older girls, some mild and gentle, with faces marked 
 with weakness; others with intense fires smouldering in 
 their eyes all joined in the hymn and sang, who knows 
 with what true feeling : 
 
 " I loved the garish day and spite of fears, 
 Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years! " 
 
 After the hymn Miss Hughes bowed her head and at 
 the sign every girl did likewise. Then they repeated 
 slowly the Lord's Prayer. 
 
 Afterward they formed again into line and, facing 
 Miss Hughes, said in unison, " Good-night, Miss 
 Hughes."
 
 SARAH'S LESSON 79 
 
 She smiled as she replied, " Good-night, girls." 
 
 They remained in line until they reached the next floor. 
 There they disbanded. Each older girl retired to her 
 own tiny room, while the younger ones flocked together 
 in the large dormitory where they crept, one by one, into 
 narrow white beds. 
 
 Sarah, arrayed in her flowing nightgown, put on prop- 
 erly now, sank upon her knees by the side of her bed. 
 
 "What you doing?" asked one of the girls. " Didn't 
 you say your prayers down-stairs ? " 
 
 " Yes, but not all I want to say/' And her dark head 
 bowed upon the white sheet. 
 
 " Oh, God," she prayed half audibly, " Miss Hughes 
 says it helps to talk to you and I think she knows about 
 as much as any person you ever made. She says, too, 
 you know all about us so you must know how I made a 
 darned mess o' things to-day again when I was goin' to 
 be so good. But please don't forget to remember that 
 I'm sorry for bein' so bad and I really, truly, cross my 
 heart, want to be good. Please make my little dog well 
 where I hurt him and make him and me grow into a 
 fine dog and girl. And bless my poor pa, bless him a whole 
 lot. I couldn't tell you how much if I stayed here all 
 night, but bless him lots and lots and lots. And don't 
 forget how sorry I am for bein' bad. And and I guess 
 that's all. Amen."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 'July 15. 
 DEAR PA: 
 
 Every girl here writes a letter to her folks once a 
 month, so you'll get one from me that often. You are all 
 the folks I have, all that I know about. Isn't it nice I 
 can write you letters? That'll be a whole dozen in a 
 year. We all sit in the schoolroom and write and then 
 Miss Hughes corrects them and we copy them on nice 
 paper. I can't write very good but neither can some of 
 the other girls you should see our letters when they are 
 corrected look like they got the smallpox, all marked 
 up with blue pencil. 
 
 I'm in a nice place. If you could be here with me I'd 
 like it so much I'd never think about going to heaven some 
 day. Miss Hughes, the lady has charge of us, is nice. 
 I asked her what kind of a place you are in and she said 
 it wasn't so bad if you behaved right. Anyhow I guess 
 it isn't worse than that little room back of the closet and 
 now you don't have to be afraid you'll get caught like 
 you used to be, so that's something to be glad for. I 
 could cry bushels of tears if that would bring you here 
 with me, but crying won't help a bit and just makes my 
 nose red and my heart heavy so I am going to smile like 
 Miss Hughes says is better to do. I hope you like it a 
 little anyhow where you are.
 
 LETTERS Si 
 
 The little dog I got that day in the park is here 
 with me. I call him Jerry for you. He follows me all 
 around the place. The girls like him but he likes me 
 best. 
 
 Miss Hughes is nice to me. She is a kind lady and I 
 am going to be good for her. I have been bad since I 
 came here, but I guess if I can be bad I can be good, so 
 I am going to try that a while. 
 
 Pa, if you could only see the flowers. Well, I'll tell 
 you about them and you shut your eyes and make be- 
 lieve you see them and that will be the next best thing 
 to being here. Back of the house is a big field, bigger 
 than the whole of Red Rose Court, and it's chuck full of 
 daisies. There are billions and millions of them and Miss 
 Hughes lets us pick them and bring to the house to 
 decorate. She took us to a place yesterday where red 
 lilies grow. I found some pretty blue flowers like stars 
 in the grass. 
 
 I have more freckles than any girl in the whole place, 
 so that's something ! 
 
 I help to make beds and work in the kitchen, shell peas 
 and peel potatoes and do things like that. Miss Mary, 
 the lady in the kitchen, says I'm real handy and the other 
 day she gave me and some of the other little girls that 
 helped her some cookies. 
 
 We had a Fourth of July celebration. We didn't have 
 any firecrackers nor such things, but we had a grand 
 holiday. We played under the apple tree all morning 
 and in the afternoon we had what the big girls said were 
 exercises. We sang patriotic songs, some of the girls 
 spoke pieces and then we all marched round the house 
 and waved flags. We had some ice-cream, every one 
 of us. We don't get ice-cream except on Fourth of
 
 82 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 July and Decoration Day, the girls say. But then we get 
 molasses every day and I like that, but of course in hot 
 weather the ice-cream cools you off better. After sup- 
 per Lettie and Miss Hughes put off some rockets. Then 
 we sat out a long time on the porch and watched the 
 balloons. There were lots of them floating around in 
 the sky and we could see them because we are so high 
 up. 
 
 Miss Hughes says I am improving and Miss Mary 
 called me a dear child the other day. Of course I'm no 
 angel yet. Guess I got some to go yet. My dresses still 
 fit on the shoulders no wings sprouting yet. I guess I 
 wrote enough for this time. When winter comes I am 
 going to school but I like summer when we can be out 
 and don't have to study. 
 
 I hope you don't forget me. 
 
 Your girl, 
 
 SADE. 
 
 August 75. 
 DEAR PA: 
 
 I didn't tell you that we get good things to eat 
 here. Well, we do. We get molasses and prunes every 
 day for breakfast. I like the prunes but the girls say 
 when I have been here as long as some of them and et 
 prunes every morning for three hundred and sixty-five 
 days in a year I won't feel so nice to the prunes. One 
 of the little girls who has been here two years said last 
 week that she was going to pray that every prune tree 
 in the whole United States would die. But I like mo- 
 lasses ! It is so sweet and sticky and just the next thing 
 to candy. I hope you get molasses too. 
 
 We go to church every Sunday morning. We get
 
 LETTERS 83 
 
 dressed in our best dresses, they're light-blue chambray. 
 The big girls have gored skirts and shirt-waists and we 
 little girls have gathered skirts and berthas on the waists. 
 I guess you don't know what a bertha is it's a wide 
 round thing that fits round the yoke of a dress and ours 
 have little ruffles all around them. They look very nice 
 and I feel swell in my Sunday dress. It's the prettiest 
 -jne I ever had. 
 
 I started to tell you about when we go to church. We 
 have to walk all the way down a long road from the top 
 of a great big hill where the reformatory is built. After 
 church we have to walk up the hill again and sometimes 
 when it's hot I wish God hadn't made any mountains but 
 when I get to the top and feel the cool breeze and see 
 how lovely it is on Sunset Mountain I am mighty glad 
 He did. 
 
 I guess that is all for this time. 
 
 SADE. 
 
 September 15. 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 We still get molasses every morning for breakfast 
 and also prunes. I still eat the prunes, but I wouldn't 
 miss them if Miss Mary forgot to cook them some day. 
 The molasses makes me feel like a stick of candy. I 
 wonder if I might get tired of that some day. It would 
 be a pity for there is so much of it here. 
 
 It is lovely here now. Last month we had lots of good 
 times in the fields and woods watching the birds. There 
 are little yellow ones come swinging on the daisies and 
 grass right near our porch. Miss Hughes says their name 
 is goldfinch. She knows all about birds, she must be 
 awful smart. You should see the pretty blue bird we
 
 84 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 see often on Sunday when we go to church. He's just 
 a little fellow, blue all over, and he sits on the telephone 
 wire that runs up to our place. When he sings he often 
 stops like he didn't know the rest of the tune. 
 
 Last week I heard one girl say to another that if her 
 father was bad she'd be ashamed of him, that mine is 
 awful bad. It made me feel like batting her. I went to 
 Miss Hughes and asked her about it and she said that 
 no matter how bad people are if they are sorry and want 
 to get good they can do it. God will forgive them and 
 they can begin all over again. I'm trying to get this 
 God business fixed so I understand it, but it's such a 
 mixup. When Miss Hughes explains it I think I see 
 what she means, but when I am alone and think about it 
 I can't make head nor tail out of it. I think of you in 
 jail and lots of bad people out of it and I don't see what 
 God is trying to do when he lets such things happen. 
 Then I think of Mrs. Maloney's baby that He took and 
 I think He must be kind to fix things for it. But Miss 
 Hughes says there are many things we can't understand, 
 that even she don't know just why some things happen. 
 She makes me feel better when she tells about you be- 
 ginning all over again. You did want to do that but got 
 caught too soon. When you come out I'll be big enough 
 to keep house for you and we can find a nice little place 
 and be happy. I help Miss Mary in the kitchen all I can 
 so I learn how to cook and do things and will be ready 
 for you. 
 
 When that girl said she'd be ashamed of her father 
 if he was like you, before I thought I gave her a good 
 punch. Then I was sorry and let her play with Jerry 
 a whole afternoon to make up for hitting her. I told 
 her that you made money and she said that some more
 
 LETTERS 85 
 
 people ought to be in jail for making money out of 
 children and poor people. The next Sunday the preacher 
 said in church that the men who make counterfeit money 
 are sent to jail if they get caught and he thinks men who 
 make money because they make people work for a little 
 in their factories should be put in the same place, even 
 if they try to cover their sin by giving some of it to poor 
 persons. So cheer up, pa, there are lots worse men in 
 the world than you ! 
 
 Miss Hughes says I ought to write you cheerful letters, 
 but I can't think of anything funny. Something awful 
 came near happening to me. I'll tell you and it might 
 cheer you to know it didn't happen after all. There's a 
 woman visits the home very often. Her name is Miss 
 Dixon. Her brother used to be a Trustee of the re- 
 formatory. Trustees are the big fat men with lots of 
 money and bald heads who come out here to see if every- 
 thing is clean and right. Why, this place is always as 
 clean as I think heaven must be, yet when Miss Hughes 
 knows the Trustees are coming for a visit she makes us 
 clean and scrub until the floor almost has holes. Then 
 the Trustees, a big line of them, go all through the build- 
 ing and look into closets and corners, talk to Miss Hughes 
 and the girls a little, and ride off again down the hill. 
 Well, Miss Dixon had a brother who was a Trustee, and 
 she has friends now who still are, so she is very much 
 interested in the place. She comes up sometimes to see 
 us. She must be rich for she wears grand things and 
 rides in an automobile that has a roof and sides on it and 
 a man to make it go. She's about the richest lady I ever 
 saw, for she wears diamond rings and feathers on her 
 hats, but she isn't nicer than Miss Hughes who has no 
 shiny stones or feathers.
 
 86 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Miss Dixon came up last week in her car. She 
 brought some other ladies with her to see the place. 
 Miss Hughes called us into the schoolroom to sing for 
 the visitors. You know my face isn't what you would 
 call pretty, with my ginger snaps and my big mouth and 
 when I run and get hot I guess I wouldn't take much 
 of a prize at a show. I came in and sat in my seat and 
 got ready to sing. Miss Dixon put up a funny pair of 
 glasses with a handle and I heard her ask Miss Hughes 
 who I was. She talked louder than she thought for I 
 heard her say, " What a homely child ! " I couldn't hear 
 what Miss Hughes whispered. Then Miss Dixon looked 
 at me again and I heard her say, " Yes, the eyes are fine 
 but where did she get those dreadful freckles ? " 
 
 Did she think I painted the freckles on my face? Be- 
 fore I thought about Miss Hughes and how she would 
 want me to hold my tongue I stood right up and an- 
 swered the lady, " My freckles come from when I was 
 making mud pies and it splashed on my face." 
 
 All the girls thought I was funny and began to laugh. 
 Miss Hughes looked so ashamed of me and I was sorry 
 right away that I made her feel that way so I got up 
 again and said, " I didn't mean to be rude, but I 
 heard you wonder and said it before I thought. That's 
 the Irish in me, to speak first and be sorry after- 
 ward." 
 
 The silly girls thought that was funny too and some 
 of them snickered. Then I did feel ashamed. I was 
 wondering what would happen next, whether Miss 
 Hughes would punish me in the Meditation Room or 
 only on the Homestead. Then Miss Dixon began to 
 laugh. She laughed so the feather on her hat almost 
 fell off. When she stopped a little she said something to
 
 LETTERS 87 
 
 Miss Hughes and they called me up.. She put her hand 
 on my head. " I beg your pardon," she said like I was 
 a lady like her and rich, " I didn't think you would hear 
 what I said. You do have freckles but don't let that 
 worry you for you have some brains under all that black 
 hair and as Miss Hughes says, your eyes are fine. Look 
 at me, Sarah." I did it and she smiled and I could have 
 forgiven her for anything she said, for she was so sweet. 
 She patted my head and told me she would come to see 
 me soon again for she knew I would grow into a young 
 woman to be proud of. I am glad that happened for 
 now I know I have nice eyes. Freckles and a pug nose 
 don't make a very pretty map, but since I know my eyes 
 are fine I feel lots better. 
 
 Next week we all go to school. A new teacher is com- 
 ing and we are all anxious to see her. If she's nice to us 
 we'll like her but if she's cranky well, she'll say good- 
 bye to Sunset Mountain most as soon as she says how- 
 de-do. I'll tell you about her next time I write. 
 
 Lots of love from 
 
 SADE. 
 
 October 15. 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 The new teacher came and is very nice so far. 
 Some of the big girls say perhaps she is foxy enough to 
 get us on her side and then turn round and be cranky 
 like some others they had. But Miss Hughes says Miss 
 Fowler, that's the new teacher's name is a dear little 
 thing and I guess she knows. Miss Fowler is little, not 
 big around nor up and down, but she knows a lot. She 
 goes with Miss Hughes and us for walks and invites us
 
 88 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 to come in her room after school. Then she shows us 
 pictures and tells about them for she's been all over the 
 whole United States! Oh, she has the most beautiful 
 dresses ! All the girls are planning to have some like . 
 them when they go out. She has waists of thin lacey 
 stuff and silk dresses. She just wears those fancy things 
 in the evenings when she goes down the mountain to 
 visit some of her friends that live out where the trolleys 
 run. Every Sunday she takes us to church. Then she 
 wears a pretty brown suit and I am going to have one 
 like that when I grow up. I'd like to have all my clothes 
 like Miss Fowler's. Miss Hughes says we are going to 
 have a lovely winter on our mountain now that Miss 
 Fowler is here. We are to learn to make baskets out of 
 grass and some other stuff Miss Fowler calls raffia. She 
 showed us some pretty ones she made. 
 
 The goldenrod is out, lots and lots of it. There's a 
 big patch along the road and there are blue asters grow- 
 ing near it. The trees are showing gay colors, a little 
 red and yellow and the girls say Sunset Mountain will 
 soon be like a picture. Last night the sunset was so 
 pretty it made that funny hurt come in my throat like I 
 felt the first time I knew I had a conscience, the time I 
 was bad and hurt Jerry. I was wishing you could see it 
 too. 
 
 Miss Dixon was here the other day and saw my dog. 
 She asked me what I would take for him and I told her 
 he is not for sale. She tried to coax me to sell him but 
 I said that if she was rich as the Midas in the Reader in 
 school and could make every leaf on our mountain turn 
 to gold she wouldn't have enough money to buy that dog ! 
 Then she laughed and called me an original, clever child 
 and said I should always be loyal like that and take good
 
 LETTERS 89 
 
 care of the dog. He is fine now, with his white collar 
 of hair round his neck, that looks like the one Queen 
 Elizabeth wears in the History book. 
 Much love from 
 
 JERRY AND SADE. 
 
 November 15. 
 DEAR PA: 
 
 We have no flowers now. They are all dead but 
 Miss Hughes says they are just sleeping and will come 
 back to us in the spring. A few butterflies still come 
 around but their wings are torn and ragged and I guess 
 they will die too before long. Sometimes I make up 
 poetry just because something inside me makes me feel 
 like it. One of the girls showed some to Miss Hughes 
 and Miss Fowler and they said I have talent for it, that 
 perhaps some day I might be a real writer of things that 
 sing. So now I am going to practice writing poetry a 
 lot and when I grow up you can be proud of me. Here 
 is one I wrote about the flowers and called, " The Death 
 of the Butterfly." Helen says it makes her feel like cry- 
 ing but I hope you won't feel that way for it is the nicest 
 one I ever did and I want you to read it. 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE BUTTERFLY 
 
 The flowers are all dead 
 
 But they'll grow again in the spring, 
 The birds all went far away from here 
 
 But some day we'll hear them sing. 
 But the poor little butterfly 
 
 With its wings so pretty all ragged and tore 
 Will soon die too and stay dead 
 
 Forever and evermore,
 
 90 THE MADONNA OF THE CURS 
 
 I hope that God will fix a heaven for the poor butter- 
 flies, don't you ? 
 
 I am learning to sew. Miss Hughes teaches us to 
 make all our own clothes. Oh, I am making a new blue 
 chambray dress for myself and am prouder of it than an 
 Irishman in his new policeman uniform. When I first came 
 here it seemed strange to see so many girls all dressed 
 in the very same kind of dresses but I'm getting used to 
 seeing a pack of girls that look just like me and forget 
 all about it until we go to church Sunday mornings and 
 see people watch us and whisper about us to each other. 
 Guess they are glad their children are not sent to a re- 
 formatory but some of them act in church like they 
 needed to be sent some place and be taught manners. 
 But most of the people in the church are nice to us and 
 say good-morning to us after church. Listen, pa, while 
 I tell you about the funny kid was sent here last week. 
 Just a skinny young one, nine years old, but she looked 
 tougher than leather. The things that kid said to Miss 
 Hughes the first day whew, if that lady weren't an 
 angel she'd have thrashed the hide off the young one! 
 Well, the new girl sat beside me the first Sunday in 
 church and when the preacher got up to read the Bible 
 she whispered to me, " Is that God talking ? " I hushed 
 her up and thought when we got out I'd tell her how a 
 church is run, but after a while another man, a young 
 one, got up to preach and she whispered again, " Now, 
 that's God's Son, ain't it ! " And she smiled like she dis- 
 covered some great secret. I told Miss Hughes about it 
 and she looked sad and said something about the heathen 
 in our midst and then she took that new girl in her room 
 and talked to her a while. And I bet my new Sunday 
 shoes that Miss Hughes makes something more than a
 
 LETTERS 91 
 
 Eeathen out that girl. Miss Hughes is like well, I 
 wish I could write some poetry about her telling just 
 what I think of her she's like sunshine, sunshine on a 
 rainy day, water when you are thirsty, she is like what 
 I like to think my own mother would be if she was 
 living. 
 
 Miss Fowler is nice to us too and I guess that is lucky 
 for her. The girls said the last teacher they had was a 
 grouch and she told the girls they were bad, that she 
 knew why they had been sent to that reformatory, that 
 there was no good in them and if they did not mind her 
 she'd have them sent to prison as soon as they were old 
 enough. Well, it got so hot for her that she left and 
 now we have Miss Fowler. She and Miss Hughes and 
 Miss Mary sit together after we go to bed and Miss 
 Fowler says she is gaining so much from Miss Hughes. 
 Wish I would grow to be a nice woman like that, nice 
 and good yet laughing and liking fun like Miss Hughes 
 does. So you see we are all happy here and I hope you 
 are the same. 
 
 With love, 
 
 SADE. 
 
 December 75. 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving. Lettie says 
 that is a funny thing to say to you but I mean I hope 
 youjiad a nice one in your heart no matter where you 
 were. You could be thankful that you are not there 
 because you did some dreadful thing like many people 
 do, and you could be thankful that I have a nice home 
 and am growing and learning to work and to make bas-
 
 92 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 kets and lots of other things and that I don't have to 
 live with ma any more and you don't neither and that 
 I have nice clean dresses now and shoes and won't have 
 to be cold or hungry once all this whole winter coming. 
 Miss Hughes says there is a silver lining to every cloud 
 and I hope you can see yours. 
 
 Lettie is going away from the reformatory next week. 
 She has been obedient and now she will have a fine home 
 with nice people who want her to take care of two chil- 
 dren. She isn't anxious to go for we all like the moun- 
 tain but the place she is going the people are friends to 
 Miss Hughes and so she won't be treated like a slave as 
 some of the girls were who went out to work and earn 
 money. We can't stay here forever and the Trustees 
 want every girl to go as soon as she is good enough and 
 knows enough to help herself out in the world. Oh, I 
 don't want to be sent out to people I don't know and 
 have to work for them! I hope you get out soon and 
 take me to a nice home. I like it here and am learning 
 so much that is making me a better girl, Miss Hughes 
 tells me. Sometimes I have to be punished for the good 
 of my soul, as she says. Last week in school Helen got 
 up and when she came to the part in the reading les- 
 son that says, " Darkness falls over the land " she 
 said, " Darkness stumbles over the land." I got the 
 giggles and the teacher had to scold me to make me 
 stop. 
 
 Miss Hughes gave me a doll dressed in white, and has 
 eyes that shut when you lay it down. It is the very first 
 nice doll I ever got and I am going to keep it until I am 
 big and I can show it to my children and tell them about 
 Miss Hughes and ask them, " Aren't you glad you have 
 a nice mother to love you and take care of you and don't
 
 LETTERS 93 
 
 have to be brought up by strangers in a bad place ? " I 
 bet that will make them happy. 
 
 Our mountain is pretty now, all covered with snow, 
 but the snow stays white. In Red Rose Court, you re- 
 member, it used to be black most as soon as it hit the 
 ground, but here it is white, so white it hurts your eyes. 
 Last evening Miss Hughes called us to see the sunset. 
 The trees on the hills and all around were covered with 
 ice and the sky was red and yellow and when it shined 
 on the trees they looked nicer than any picture I ever 
 saw and sparkled more than the diamonds and things 
 we used to see in the windows on Fourth Street. Miss 
 Hughes said it looked like a glimpse of heaven if 
 heaven is half that fine I think I'd like to get there 
 too. 
 
 We went down the hill in the snow Sunday to church. 
 Wore our coats and blue hats with red ribbons on them 
 one of the Trustees must like red for we have it on all 
 our hats and use it for hair ribbons most of the time, but 
 I am not kicking about it for it's a sight better than the 
 shoe string I used to tie round my plait down in Red 
 Rose Court. After Christmas Miss Fowler is going to 
 teach us to make raffia hats and Miss Hughes is going 
 to try to get blue ribbon for them. 
 
 We still get molasses every day. Some time ago I got 
 tired of it so now I do without it for a few days then I 
 am glad to eat it again. Just think of getting tired of 
 anything sweet like molasses! I never thought I'd do 
 that ! I am learning lots of things here on the top of the 
 mountain. You need not feel sad about me, but if you 
 ever do then try to think ahead to the time when you 
 and I can have a little home. I think that will be won- 
 derful, for I will know how to keep house and cook for
 
 94 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 you and we can live like decent people. I hope you are 
 well and happy. And I send you much love from Jerry 
 
 and me. 
 
 SARAH.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 
 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 When I wrote my first letter to you from this 
 place I never dreamed I would be writing from it after 
 six years. But here I am, still on Sunset Mountain, 
 thanks to Miss Hughes and Miss Dixon. You remember 
 the latter as the woman who has influential friends, Trus- 
 tees of the reformatory, and whose interest I once gained 
 by some childish remarks about my countless freckles. 
 The combined petitions of Miss Dixon and Miss Hughes 
 have spared me the unhappiness of being " loaned " to 
 some busy housewife who desired the valuable but sur- 
 prisingly cheap services of a young girl who could be 
 transformed, or deformed, into a submissive, patient 
 slave. Miss Dixon has done much for me in that way but 
 Miss Hughes God be good to her forever she has 
 been my white angel of deliverance these six years ! 
 Guess the Irish in her calls to the Irish in me. As soon 
 as I finished the eighth grade in school reformatory girls 
 evidently need no more extensive education than that 
 she persuaded the Trustees to have me appointed assist- 
 ant in the kitchen! So now I am earning my living in 
 the very place I have been I was going to say im- 
 prisoned, but that would not be fair, for it has been any- 
 thing but that. Some matrons would have made it that, 
 out never Miss Hughes. I am to work for my board and
 
 96 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 clothes until I am eighteen and then if I remain I shall 
 be placed on the pay-roll. Imagine, Sade of Red Rose 
 Court being paid from the city treasury! I'm climbing 
 up, father. In the meantime I am to help Miss Mary, 
 relieve Miss Hughes in any way I can, take visitors 
 through the place, help to watch and guide the girls and 
 have one afternoon each week and also every other Sun- 
 day for my own. I'll be going back to Red Rose Court 
 some day soon to see Mrs. Maloney. She'll hardly know 
 me, for I have grown tall and you'll be glad to hear it 
 a trifle better looking. Miss Hughes says I have im- 
 proved wonderfully but it does make a difference when 
 one is clean and well fed and looked after. 
 
 One of the first trips I take will be to see you. Miss 
 Hughes is going to bring me, father. After all these 
 years to see you once more I can scarcely wait pa- 
 tiently for the time. I do long to see you. Why can't 
 time fly until the time when you can be free! If I al- 
 lowed my thoughts to dwell upon your lot, your life in 
 that dreadful place I just have to set my Irish working 
 and make myself stop worrying. Sometimes when Miss 
 Hughes talks to me and tries to make me take a phil- 
 osophical view of it I can see that your punishment is 
 just, if hard. But at other moments I rebel against the 
 long years you have been paying and still must pay for 
 the offense against the law. Are you not getting more 
 than you deserve, greater punishment than you earned? 
 You made money out of metal, others coin it from the 
 blood, body and very sinews of children and underpaid 
 older workers and by turning a pitiably small portion of 
 the ill-gotten wealth into the coffers of charity are lauded 
 as philanthropists. Surely, your state is more to be de- 
 sired than theirs! The time of reckoning is inevitable
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 97 
 
 and I'd rather have your chance of future happiness 
 than theirs. Miss Hughes says there will always be in- 
 justice in this world, that the only way to meet it is to be 
 personally just and do the right thing and leave the rest 
 to Providence. I wish I had her magnificent faith and 
 hope and could look at life as she does. What a friend 
 she has been to me ! She is a Catholic, a devout one, and 
 I am a Protestant but if the East and the West can't 
 meet they can look across to each other and understand. 
 I don't know whether Miss Hughes prays for my soul or 
 if when I die she'll have prayers said to try to have me 
 delivered from purgatory, but I do know that while I am 
 living with her she is just as kind to me as though I 
 were of her own faith. And come to think about it, 
 that's a big thing to say and proves that there is no nar- 
 rowness or bigotry about Miss Hughes. She encourages 
 me to go to church. It was forced upon me during the 
 six years I was an inmate of the reformatory but since 
 I am a worker there I have the blessed privilege of doing 
 as I please in many matters and I have found to my utter 
 surprise that I please to continue doing many of the very 
 things I thought were irksome duties when they were 
 compulsory. So I go often to the little chapel at the 
 foot of the mountain. Sometimes I feel happier as I sit 
 there and listen to the music and the words of the old 
 clergyman, other days I am possessed with a restlessness 
 and trouble, which surges through me so that I want to 
 run out from the church and find some lonely spot and 
 just cry. Will I ever feel the contentment and peace so 
 many people seem to have? How can I attain to the 
 poise and sane thinking of Miss Hughes? Will that 
 childish desire to laugh and cry all at the same time ever 
 be controlled glory, what a doleful letter ! Sounds like
 
 98 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 the Irish in me is clean dead. But I'll cheer myself up 
 in one second that's the glorious part of having Irish 
 in your veins! How's this for a gloom chaser Miss 
 Hughes went to a wake recently. They had holy water 
 in the room and a woman came in and dipped her 
 fingers into the saucer on the mantelpiece, thinking it 
 was the holy water. But some one had snuffed the 
 candles and laid the black ends in that saucer and the 
 woman daubbed it all over her face when she went to 
 make the sign of the cross. It looked ridiculous, of 
 course I feel cheered up and hope you do too. 
 
 I must tell you about our Memorial Day. We all got 
 up early. I helped the little girls get dressed, combed 
 the hair of ten won't I make a fine stepmother for a 
 widower with ten children and then I helped shoo them 
 down-stairs to get their work all done early. They 
 cleaned and polished floors in record time that day. Then 
 we went out to the big field back of the house and picked 
 daisies, bushels of them ! It was a picture for an artist, 
 the daisy field with twenty girls in blue chambray dresses, 
 each one picking daisies until her arms ached. We 
 carried them to the laundry and made wreaths and long 
 chains of them. It looked like a fairy bower. In the 
 afternoon we went down the mountain to the little ceme- 
 tery near the chapel. People looked at us as we passed 
 their houses and I speculated upon what their thoughts 
 might be. Were we just bad girls, parading with flowers 
 whose beauty and symbolism we could not appreciate; 
 were we poor unfortunates who merited pity, the far- 
 off variety, and might even be prayed over; were we 
 wood nymphs resurrected for the occasion and present- 
 ing a charming picture as we went along swinging our 
 daisy chains?
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 99 
 
 At the cemetery we stood in a half circle, Miss Hughes 
 near by. After addresses about the brave soldiers, and a 
 few of the old patriotic songs, we sang, " Cover Them 
 Over with Beautiful Flowers " and as we sang we 
 marched round and placed our flowers on the graves 
 marked with the flag. People were lovely to us, they 
 seemed to forget that we came from the dreadful red 
 brick reformatory on the summit of the great hill. 
 
 As we walked home Miss Hughes told us about her 
 brother who marched away with the others and never 
 came back. How her mother used to keep a lamp in the 
 window for him for a long time, thinking perhaps he 
 would return, but he never came back. Then we felt 
 something of what it must have meant to see your own 
 dear ones march away to war. It was a beautiful day 
 and I suppose it was " good for our souls," as Miss 
 Hughes says so many times, but it was sad. Next time, 
 father, I promise you to write a wholly cheerful letter. 
 
 With love, 
 
 SARAH. 
 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 This is going to be my joy letter. Like the man 
 who went slumming and took some poor ragged young- 
 sters on a picnic and told them he wanted them to have 
 a good time, he'd make them have a good time, if he had 
 to lick every blooming kid to get it ! So I'm going to be 
 cheerful if I lose a leg, as Mrs. Maloney used to say. 
 Do you remember the time a dog bit her and when some 
 one asked her whether he was mad she said, " Mad 
 the dog ! What call had he to be mad ? Ain't I the one 
 ought to be mad ! " She was funny. 
 This mountain is the finest place ever created. We
 
 100 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 have wild strawberries, so many of them we can scarcely 
 pick them all and when we do pick them we have to 
 tramp a lot for they grow so thick. We get enough for 
 Miss Mary and the girls to make shortcake for all hands 
 mouths, I should say. Miss Mary could make food 
 for an Irish king. I never saw her beat. 
 
 Last week we found a chewinks' nest. I was walking 
 along in the grass when a brown bird flew out of a clump 
 of weeds and there was the prettiest nest right on the 
 ground. Such a fuss as they made ! Daddy chewink 
 came with his black hood and both yelled " Chewink " 
 until I pitied them and went off. Later I heard him 
 sing, perched way up in a tree he was, and he called, 
 " Sweetheart, I'm here ! " I loved him for that. 'But 
 last week when Miss Hughes took me to the Zoo and we 
 were in the bird house I heard that same " Sweetheart, 
 I'm here ! " And when I looked, there in a corner of a 
 big cage sat a melancholy daddy chewink, without his 
 mate, far away from nests and green woods and all that 
 he loved. I could have cried for that bird. I wanted 
 to steal him and let him fly. Is there anything sadder 
 than a caged bird? His wings useless, those wonderful 
 wings that can carry him soaring among the clouds ! But 
 I'm forgetting I'm not to be writing anything mournful, 
 so I think a little harder and decide that perhaps the 
 chewink is happier there in the cage than in the open. 
 I can find several good arguments in favor of that theory 
 isn't he safer, hasn't he food brought to him instead 
 of having to hunt for it what more could any bird want ? 
 That chewink is a darned lucky bird if he only knew it ! 
 
 Here's some news ! The girls of this reformatory are 
 making good citizens out in the world. Miss Hughes 
 and I hunted up the records and found that over half of
 
 AFTER SIX YEARSMORE LETTERS 101 
 
 the girls parolled have gone straight. Sure, father, I'm 
 in the right half ! And perhaps there is still some good 
 in those whom we counted in the wrong half. You have 
 heard of the people who wanted to stone a wicked per- 
 son and were told that the privilege of throwing the first 
 stone belonged to the one who was without sin. If 
 everybody could remember that story and profit by it 
 wouldn't this whole world be nice as Ireland must be ! 
 
 I told you once about writing poetry. Since I am 
 older I feel guilty when I name it that, but I do some- 
 times scribble little rhymes and jingles. I 'have kept them 
 all in a little book so that no literary masterpiece be 
 carelessly lost to the world. I think you might like to 
 read some of my attempts. 
 
 "If you were here, if you were here, 
 
 Oh, love, what happiness ! 
 I would not ask that you should cheer 
 
 With kisses or caress. 
 But just to sit there in the light 
 
 And let me look a while 
 Into your eyes and read all's right, 
 
 And see your old time smile. 
 
 "If you were here I'd only look 
 
 Into your eyes so deep, 
 As blossoms growing by the brook 
 
 Watch o'er their shadows keep. 
 What need of paltry words to fling 
 
 When hearts are opened wide ? 
 The eyes can speak ! The eyes can sing ! 
 
 When we are satisfied." 
 
 I thought of you when I wrote that, father. Hope 
 you'll like it.
 
 102 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 I am having great fun teaching the girls new songs. 
 Miss Fowler taught me how to play songs and hymns 
 and I've had more pleasure drumming the old square 
 piano in the schoolroom than you could shake a stick at. 
 During the summer when the teacher is away I take 
 charge of the music at prayers and sometimes when it 
 is raining we all gather in the schoolroom and sing. I 
 found a new song last week. It goes like this, part of it : 
 
 " O, the goal of the world is joy, 
 
 Joy divine that is born of love. 
 Sorrows are wings that safe convoy 
 The soul to the fairer realms above." 
 
 Don't you think there is some comfort in knowing thut? 
 Can you believe it? I think it is sometimes almost im- 
 possible to do as Tennyson says, " Reach a hand through 
 time to catch the far-off interest of tears " but it is com- 
 forting to think that the interest is there for us. I went 
 to church yesterday and the preacher said something that 
 made me think of you Lazarus had his sores and evil 
 things in this world, and perhaps he deserved them, but 
 he somehow earned good things in the other world and 
 he got them also. 
 
 Miss Hughes and I are coming to see you next visiting 
 day. I shall be so glad to see you again so glad ! 
 
 Until then, 
 
 SARAH. 
 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 If ever I needed the cheerfulness of the Emerald 
 Isle folk it was after my visit to you. That dreadful 
 place! And you have lived there six years, it makes
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 103 
 
 me choke and have the funny hurt in my throat like I 
 had when I first discovered the presence of a conscience. 
 The only thing makes the matter bearable is the knowl- 
 edge that in several more years you'll be out, counting 
 the time off for good behavior. You'll be free, free! 
 The first thing you must do is come to Sunset Mountain 
 and stand on the summit, then you'll know you are free 
 at last. I pitied the chewink in his cage at the Zoo 
 what do you think I feel for you ! Of course, the worst 
 is over. Three years are not very many compared with 
 the six you have spent there already. See, I can find 
 some little crumb of comfort. I knew I would if I dug 
 deep enough. It took me ten minutes to think of that 
 but I have Irish ingenuity and kept at it. 
 
 Father, won't you tell me about my mother? I want 
 so to know who she was and whether she has any people. 
 Of course I'm' happy here, probably happier than I 
 should be with her relatives, but I am always wondering 
 who I am, if I have any aunts, uncles, cousins and the 
 like. I think you said once that your people didn't like 
 my mother. If that is so I'd like to have a chance to 
 tell them what I think of them! Perhaps it's a case of 
 " better let sleeping dogs lie " and I might be sorry if I 
 discovered my family. Aunts and cousins are interfer- 
 ing things, at any rate, so I don't care if I have any or 
 not sour grapes ! 
 
 Speaking of grapes, we have wild ones on our moun- 
 tain now and they are fine. There's an old stone wall 
 in one of the fields near the house and it's covered with 
 grapes, those little ones that smell as good as they taste. 
 There are bittersweet berries on that same wall and every 
 fall we pick them and have them in the house all winter. 
 I asked Miss Hughes where they got such a mixed name
 
 104 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 sounds like an Irishman named them. She said if you 
 chew the root it will be bitter at first, then change to a 
 sweetish taste. And she added that life is very often 
 like that. I say the world missed a good priest, preacher 
 or rabbi when Miss Hughes was born a woman. She 
 can take the homeliest thing and read a lesson that you'll 
 like and remember. 
 
 But I am wondering what sweetness even she could 
 discover in an experience I had an hour ago. Miss 
 Hughes went to the city and Miss Mary and I were left 
 in charge. Early in the afternoon a big car came round 
 the driveway and a woman, fine as her car, stepped out. 
 It was up to me to find out what she wanted. 
 
 Oh, she had a honeyed voice ! " May I see the matron, 
 please ? " 
 
 I told her Miss Hughes was out and would not return 
 for several hours but I'd be glad to be of service. 
 
 " You are employed here ? " she looked at me closely 
 and I put on my grandest front and told her I was, that 
 I was an assistant of course I didn't tell her it was in 
 the kitchen! Was afraid she would be permanently 
 shocked if she knew she were talking with one of the 
 cooks. 
 
 She informed me that she was interested in child wel- 
 fare and juvenile court reform and was gathering data 
 for a book on the subject, so it would be a great favor 
 if I should be kind enough to supply her with some in- 
 formation of the work being done in that reformatory. 
 
 I assured her I was " willing as Barkus " and we 
 started off on a tour of the place. Thank goodness I 
 look older than I am, else she would have questioned me 
 more closely. 
 
 I led the haughty lady about in the big building, ex-
 
 AFTER six YEARS MORE LETTERS 105 
 
 plained the work, the routine, while she made notes in a 
 leather bound book that must have cost more than a 
 Bible. " The girls do all the work splendid for them, 
 that takes some of the villainy from them, at least sup- 
 presses it for a time " she added her comments on what 
 I told her as she wrote the information in the little book. 
 " They clean, sew, cook, bake, wash and iron what 
 capital servants they should become! Really, my dear, 
 that is about all they can hope to become. No position 
 of trust will ever be open for reformatory girls. Um, 
 the hall bears evidence of indefatigable labor." She 
 looked at the big hall, which was always polished until 
 it shone like glass, then back to her notes once more. 
 " Go to school until they reach the eighth grade really 
 more than they need. My dear, education of incorrigi- 
 bles merely tends to increase their power for evil. They 
 are taught basketry, sewing,, and spend much spare time 
 outdoors studying flowers and birds. My dear, what a 
 mistake ! I should say that is a case of ' Pearls before 
 swine.' Surely they do not appreciate the glories of 
 nature, their depraved souls are sunken too low for that. 
 It is a great pity." 
 
 " Yes, it is a pity," I spoke up. The woman looked 
 up from her leather bound book and her notes about 
 juvenile reform. My face must have looked about as 
 peaceful as a thunder cloud. " It is a pity," I repeated, 
 " a pity that in all this great big world with its thousands 
 of churches and people who frequent them there are so 
 few who have one spark of sympathy for the girls who 
 live in reformatories. We haven't grown very far above 
 those people who wanted to stone the sinner long ago, 
 have we ? Of course you have read Tennyson's ' Maud ' 
 but perhaps you have forgotten those wonderful lines :
 
 106 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " ' Ah yet, we cannot be kind to each other here for an 
 
 hour; 
 We whisper, and hint, and chuckle, and grin at a 
 
 brother's shame ; 
 However we brave it out, we men are a little breed.' 
 
 What right has one person to judge another? How 
 can we know the evil influence that wrought the havoc 
 in the life of any one of these girls? Are not you and 
 I, and the whole race, bound by infirmity and at times 
 yielding to evil? Would you want your entire life, all 
 its action, thoughts, words, photographed and displayed 
 to the world? Is there any mortal under the sky who 
 has not some indiscretions or faults or weakness they 
 want to hide from the gaze of the curious and the gos- 
 siping? We don't like to admit it, it is so much more 
 comfortable to our minds to be able to feel above the 
 common run of humanity, but I wonder I wonder " 
 
 " My dear," the woman said wonderingly, " what pe- 
 culiar ideas you harbor! It is unusual for a young girl 
 to have that view, but you have not lived long enough 
 to have an opinion of value to us. A sheltered, unso- 
 phisticated girl like you can't have any possible idea of 
 the evil in the world. When you are older and have 
 seen more of life " 
 
 I laughed, rude as it was. I had to laugh! Then I 
 explained, " I have seen life, in the raw, madam, with the 
 varnish all licked off like a child's toy." 
 
 " You must have had a strange education. May I ask 
 the name of your college ? " 
 
 " The Slums and Reformatory," I answered, like I 
 was naming some highfalutin' thousand-dollars-a-year se- 
 lect school for girls. 
 
 She surveyed me through her glasses as though I
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 107 
 
 were speaking Hindustan. " I don't think I under- 
 stand." 
 
 " No, you don't," I agreed heartily. " Neither do you 
 understand any other reformatory girls. What can you 
 know about Red Rose Court and worse places! Have 
 you ever lived in the slums? I am one of the girls who 
 can never hold a position of trust, a REFORMATORY GIRL ! " 
 
 She moved away from me as though afraid to breathe 
 the same pestilential air. " I thought, I understood 
 you gave me the impression you were employed here." 
 
 " I am. But I was committed here six years ago as an 
 inmate. Now I have been appointed assistant in the 
 kitchen." I faced her as though I were addressing a 
 regiment of soldiers and I purposely used slang " You 
 take it from me, there's more in the hearts of these girls 
 than wickedness. Some of them are headed straight for 
 the dogs and nothing this side of the blue sky can stop 
 them, but some of them still have a glimmer of refine- 
 ment, some spark of divine faith, that will help them to 
 conquer themselves and crawl from the pit of darkness 
 to the light. But you would push them back, wouldn't 
 you? I'm thinking that darkness where there is going 
 to be so much wailing and gnashing of teeth will hold 
 some who were not in a reformatory. But I beg your 
 pardon, I didn't mean to interrupt your valuable taking 
 of notes about juvenile reform. Is there anything more 
 I could tell you about this school ? " 
 
 She swept her lofty eyes over me as though I were a 
 speck of dust to be brushed aside. I could see that my 
 eloquence was wasted upon her. " No, I thank you," 
 came the cold reply. " I have all the essential informa- 
 tion. Good-afternoon." 
 
 " Good-afternoon," I answered back, like I was one
 
 108 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 of those stiff-necked butlers you read about in English 
 books. Then I bowed her out. I shut the door and did 
 a sailor's hornpipe and told myself I bet I gave her 
 something in her bean to think about. But I'm wonder- 
 ing now whether I really did. She's out to learn the 
 worst about us. Her taking notes about reform it's 
 like the whiskered rabbi who gave a beggar a quarter 
 for a shave and the latter shoved the money back and 
 said, " Keep it yourself, boob, you need it worse than I 
 do." 
 
 You called me your ray of sunshine when I was there 
 to see you. How I wish I could be something nice like 
 that for you ! Won't you think about the thing I asked 
 you to do for me tell me about my mother and relatives ? 
 Guess relatives are like a husband, you are never happy 
 till you get one and after that you often wish you had 
 been satisfied without. But I'll take a chance. 
 
 With love, 
 
 SARAH. 
 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 What you told me about my mother made me 
 happy, but I knew without being told that she was the 
 dearest person on the earth. I am sorry she had no 
 people, for that leaves me with as many cousins as I had 
 before you told me about her, unless there are some of 
 your folks still living. It would be so exciting to have 
 a new family suddenly to get acquainted with. Are you 
 an orphan too? It would be too bad if I had no one on 
 either side of the house to be proud of me when I be- 
 come famous as I am destined to do. But I suppose I 
 could very easily find a family then, some distant cousins. 
 Miss Hughes and I went to Red Rose Court the day
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 109 
 
 before Christmas to take some presents. Oh, father, how 
 could we ever live there? The squalor and pity of it! 
 Poor Mrs. Maloney has a second husband and the ninth 
 baby and is as jolly as ever. How she can be I don't see ; 
 she deserves a better place than Red Rose Court. We 
 saw a ragged little girl sitting out on the cold curb with 
 a baby in her arms and I shut my eyes and saw myself 
 six years ago. I have been fortunate, I saw that when 
 we went back to that dreadful place. Schlotzbergers 
 moved to the country so I suppose Jakey is happy. But 
 there are always others to take the place of those who 
 leave. I suppose Red Rose Court will stay as it is for- 
 ever, the same dirty place with miserable people in it. If 
 some persons cleaned it up would it stay cleaned? It 
 made me heart sick. I saw what I escaped. And surely, 
 even the place you have been these years is not worse 
 than that old home of ours. But home is too fine a 
 word hovel ! 
 
 I was glad to get back to our mountain. We went out 
 for our Christmas greens that same day so I could get 
 the taste of Red Rose Court out of my mouth. I wish I 
 could paint Sunset Mountain as it was then, with the 
 white snow upon it, the lovely filigree on the twigs and 
 weeds, the beauty of the unsullied white flakes as they 
 cover everything in sight. It makes you want to forget 
 there is any place as unlovely as Red Rose Court. 
 
 We donned sweaters, caps and mittens and started out. 
 In the field beyond the daisy one there are many cedar 
 and pine trees and there we cut our greens, away from 
 the road where the stumps won't be eyesores. Among 
 so many fine trees it was difficult to select those we liked 
 best but after fussing we decided and started to saw. 
 Back and forth went the saw in the hands of some of the
 
 110 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 oldest girls, eating into the pungent wood of the cedar or 
 the fragrant heart of the pine. There came excited cries 
 to clear the path, the trees swayed, and as we shouted and 
 danced, they fell to the snowy ground. As each tree fell 
 eager hands tugged at it and dragged it to the edge of 
 the field. 
 
 " Oh, look at that crooked little cedar," exclaimed one 
 of the girls and pointed to a tree that had grown in a 
 tangle of encroaching branches so that it was forced to 
 curve and grow bent. 
 
 " Yes," some of Miss Hughes' philosophy cropped 
 out, " it is crooked, but it had a hard time to grow even 
 as straight as it has. See that big cedar that is perfect, 
 that had nothing to interfere with it, to make it go in the 
 wrong direction, but this poor little one was almost 
 choked to death." 
 
 " Ah, poor little tree," cried the girls, quick to pity. 
 Perhaps they felt an intuitive sympathy for the struggling 
 inhabitant of the woods, saw their own lives symbolized 
 by it. " Let's take it home and trim it up for Christmas," 
 suggested one. 
 
 So we cut down the crooked little cedar and placed it 
 with the others. Then we cut pine branches, scratched 
 away the snow and pulled up trailing crowfoot until yards 
 of it lay in a heap near the other greens. 
 
 " Now," I cried, " all ready for the homeward march ! " 
 If I could paint I'd do a masterpiece, Bringing in the 
 Christmas Greens. It was a picture. Each tree was 
 partly lifted, partly dragged, along in the snowy field. 
 Some of the girls had their arms filled with pine boughs, 
 others trailed the crowfoot, and the sunset glow came up 
 and tinged us all with gold. I looked at the girls, their 
 faces were ruddy as their crimson sweaters and caps.
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 111 
 
 We worked all evening putting the trees and greens 
 into place in the big sewing room. Miss Hughes and 
 Miss Mary enjoyed it as much as we did. The teacher 
 had gone home for the holidays, but we promised to 
 leave the decorations so she can see them. What fun we 
 had decorating the trees ! Pink and white popcorn Miss 
 Mary helped us pop and sugar and string, paper orna- 
 ments the teacher taught us to make, a few balls and the 
 like left over from previous trees, and the dear little angel 
 Miss Hughes bought for the top branch. On the crooked 
 little cedar we hung our gifts for each other. I bet Miss 
 Hughes received no less than two dozen pen wipers made 
 from braided raffia and cloth she need never again wipe 
 a pen on her petticoat ! But the girls' gifts to her, crude 
 and home-made though they were, told her so eloquently 
 of their regard for her that it brought tears to her eyes. 
 Dear Miss Hughes, she is the nearest thing I know to a 
 mother. If a real mother could bring greater joy to me 
 then I'd have to enlarge my heart to hold it all. Miss 
 Hughes and Miss Mary gave each girl a box of candy 
 and if you had ever been a girl with a sweet tooth and 
 shut in a place where never a snitch of candy reached you 
 then you could know how every girl shouted at the gift. 
 Everybody seemed to have the Christmas spirit. I had a 
 lovely day with the rest, but that night as I left the school- 
 room after prayers and sat a while in the sitting-room 
 with Miss Hughes and Miss Mary I'm privileged now, 
 being an employee I felt depressed, all the Irish cheer- 
 fulness drowned in unhappiness. 
 
 " Sarah, aren't you happy ? " Miss Hughes asked me. 
 
 " Why " I tried to lie, but I couldn't do it when 
 
 she looked at me. Instead I had to bite my lips to keep 
 the tears back. Seemed like I was all teary and sobby, a
 
 112 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 whole ocean inside of me wanting to get spilled. " Oh," 
 I said after a little, " how can I be really happy ? You 
 are lovely to me, the girls, too everybody ! Don't 
 think I'm ungrateful for all you have done and are doing 
 for me, but I seem to always want more, just one thing 
 more. I'm wanting a home, a real home, with my own 
 people in it to love me and fix me a tree, even if it's the 
 meanest tree in the world, and to give me presents on 
 Christmas though a kiss were all they could afford to 
 give. It's that I'm wanting. And I guess it's that I'll 
 never get." 
 
 Miss Hughes smiled, then was serious and dear. 
 " Never's a long time, Sarah, a long, long time. But I 
 think you'll get all those things some day. A home is 
 different from an institution, God bless us, yes ! " I think 
 she must have been thinking of her own childhood for her 
 eyes were starry when she looked at me again. 
 
 " Sarah, you have a right to know whether you have 
 any other relatives besides your father. You are a young 
 lady now, and it is not right to keep you here if you have 
 people who would be glad to have you. You were made 
 for a home, a happy home with all its love. If your fa- 
 ther should die without telling you just who you are and 
 where you come from it would haunt you all your days ; 
 there would be that mystery to darken your life. I sup- 
 pose your father has never thought of it from that angle. 
 I am going to see him and talk it over." So, father, when 
 Miss Hughes comes to see you, please listen to her. She's 
 a pretty good arguer, though. Bet she could sell an Es- 
 kimo a fan if she set out to do it. But, father, be ready 
 for her and do as she asks you. Let it be my Christmas 
 present from my father. If I don't like my relatives 
 after I have them trust me to shake the dust of them
 
 AFTER SIX YEARS MORE LETTERS 113 
 
 from my feet. Perhaps they would be glad to have me 
 live with them and know how to act in a real home, then 
 when you come out to me and we have that little home 
 together I'll know just how to do. Please, please ! 
 With love, 
 
 SARAH (poor lonely girl without a 
 home. Pity the homeless).
 
 CHAPTER VH 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 
 
 DEAR SARAH : 
 
 Your last letter woke me up. It is your right to 
 know who and where your people are. Heaven knows I 
 have sinned enough against you without adding another 
 black mark. All these years I have kept the thing from 
 you, but I am going to tell you the names and addresses 
 of your aunts and grandfather. Once, long ago, I was a 
 boy who went to Sunday school and there I learned about 
 Pilate who was going to commit a crime and washed his 
 hands first, hoping to keep the stain of it from him, but 
 all the water in the world couldn't keep his hands clean 
 when he sinned. So I have tried to keep you in igno- 
 rance, hoping that I might escape some of the condemna- 
 tion I deserve, but I see now that it is only right to tell 
 you. Then you have the privilege of ignoring the revela- 
 tion and forgetting all about your relatives or of going to 
 them and see what manner of people you have. 
 
 I told you the truth when I said your mother was an 
 orphan and has not, to my knowledge, one relative near 
 enough to be called that. She lost her parents at an early 
 age, was taken care of if you can dignify it by that 
 phrase by a distant cousin, shoved into the world upon 
 her own resources at fourteen. After a checkered ca- 
 reer, checkered only in variety of experiences, not with
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 115 
 
 sin, she went on the stage. She had a natural talent for 
 dancing and singing; anything that rhymed appealed to 
 her. That is where you get your love for music and 
 poetry, I suppose. 
 
 She was Irish, pure and sweet as a daisy, and when I 
 met her but I am getting ahead of my story. You want 
 to know about me I am Pennsylvania Dutch. That 
 means nothing to you, for there are no settlements of 
 them in the part of the country where you live, but 
 briefly: there are in Pennsylvania some sections of coun- 
 try where the majority of the inhabitants cling to a quaint 
 old dialect, half English, partly German, the remainder 
 hodge-podge Swiss, Dutch I don't know just what. 
 It's a queer language and their English is usually flavored 
 with its accent, idioms, expressions, and substitution of 
 w for v and d for t, so that it is easy to distinguish the 
 Pennsylvania Dutch, especially to those who have lived 
 in that section. But many of them speak English per- 
 fectly these days ; education, reading, study, have brought 
 them what their grandparents never had. Among the 
 Pennsylvania Dutch are numerous religious sects called 
 plain people. They are called that because their religion 
 calls for a distinctive form of dress, extremely plain and 
 not conforming to the fashions and vanities of the world. 
 These plain people are called Mennonites, Amish, River 
 Brethren, Brethren, and a half dozen similar names. 
 There are some points of difference but all are character- 
 ized by plainness of dressing and living, avoidance of all 
 frivolity and worldliness, such as dancing, card playing, 
 attendance at theatres or motion pictures. 
 
 I was born and raised in such a peaceful atmosphere. 
 My mother, father, aunts, grandparents, cousins, and two 
 sisters were Mennonites, the women wearing the plain
 
 116 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB; 
 
 garb something like the Quakers' of whom you must have 
 studied in school, and the men also dressed in plain suits 
 and broad-brimmed hats to distinguish them from the 
 worldly. 
 
 My mother I want to say it now so you won't ever 
 forget it my mother was the dearest mother in the 
 world! If she had lived well, ever since Adam we like 
 to shift the blame on other shoulders, but I am sure that 
 if she had lived your life and mine would have been 
 vastly different. 
 
 I had a boyhood busy, happy, care- free, like many other 
 children in that section of the country. My father owned 
 a big hardware store and was reputed to be " well-off," 
 as they say up there. Surely I had many good times, 
 some healthy exercise working, and no more troubles than 
 most boys. My father was a quiet, sober man. I can't 
 remember seeing him play with his children or bouncing 
 them on his knees. But he was good to us, provided us 
 with comforts and never objected to buying books or any- 
 thing necessary for school-work. Besides being serious 
 he was strict as a judge when it came to keeping the Sab- 
 bath, attending church service, dealing fairly with neigh- 
 bors, helping people in trouble. There was no possible 
 way of escaping his dictates. Other boys I knew fooled 
 their fathers sometimes and managed to get out of doing 
 chores or going to church, but I never could do that with 
 mine. Sunday was the Lord's Day and he ordered it 
 kept as he thought it should be and we kept it so. We 
 could spend the odd hours of it in quiet conversation, 
 serious reading or visiting in families where he knew the 
 holiness of the day would be observed. I sat during 
 many long hours in the Mennonite church, my feet 
 swinging, my back tired from the hard wooden benches
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 117 
 
 Mennonites leave cushioned pews for the easy-going 
 Christians. 
 
 Narrow, uncompromising as father was in religious 
 matters, he was liberal enough in others. When I asked 
 him to send me to school so I could become a trained 
 mechanic he consented without any arguments. He'd 
 educate me and after I earned money I could pay it back 
 so that my sisters might fare as well as I. I went off to 
 Philadelphia to school, a happy young man, looking for- 
 ward to a bright future, a useful life of which my parents 
 would be proud. 
 
 The last year of my stay in the city I met your mother. 
 She was, as I told you, an actress. Now, all my life I 
 had been taught that absolutely everything connected 
 with the stage and footlights was utterly wrong, evil, to 
 be shunned by all except the wicked and depraved who 
 did not care for the safety of their souls. My parents' 
 religion strictly forbids attendance at theatres or dances. 
 All that had been drummed into my brain from the cradle 
 but when I met your mother at a boarding-house where 
 she was respected and loved, something seemed to call to 
 me, something stronger than the teachings and warnings 
 of my father, even stronger than the pleadings of my 
 mother. I was of another generation from the old folks 
 in the little town up-state. My few years in the city had 
 taught me to smile in amusement at some of the stand- 
 ards set up there, and I had come to the conclusion that 
 surely some of the theatrical profession must be good. 
 So when I found myself in love with your mother her 
 name was Sarah, too and learned to my delight that she 
 had the same feeling for me, I was as happy as though 
 she had been a girl from home in a plain Mennonite 
 dress. Of course, I was a bit troubled about the opinion
 
 118 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 of my people, but never for one minute was I ready to 
 sacrifice our happiness for the prejudices of father or 
 mother. For a time we kept our love secret. I had some 
 foreboding of what my father would say, but I hoped, as 
 lovers always do, that his objections would be driven 
 away when he met Sarah. 
 
 When my course of study was completed I went home, 
 ready to tell all about my happiness and waiting to be 
 asked to bring to them the girl I had chosen. The first 
 day father called me to the parlor for a talk. That was 
 unusual for him, for he was not a talkative man. I can 
 see him now with his big frame in the plain gray Men- 
 nonite suit, his hair parted, his face strong as the painting 
 of a prophet, a glint of hardness, sternness, righteousness, 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " Jeremiah," he never shortened the name " now 
 you are done school and ready to earn your own living; 
 your mother and I talked it over and we hope you will 
 find you some nice Mennonite girl to marry and then set- 
 tle down and be a man. We hope you can find it in your 
 heart to come in the church. Your sisters done so a'ready 
 but you say you ain't ready. But now, surely, Jeremiah, 
 when you get grown up to a man you can take your place 
 with the others in the family. All your cousins went in 
 the Mennonite church last fall a'ready and you still hang 
 back. I don't believe forcing children to such things, 
 but I thought mebbe if I say something it will help you 
 to see the light. Getting a nice Mennonite girl for wife 
 will help you keep in the right way. If you want to 
 marry and settle down somewhere out of Fairview we 
 don't care so much. I can set you up in business or loan 
 you money for a start. Mebbe Lancaster or Lebanon 
 .would be more for you than this little town. Just so you
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 119 
 
 don't go too far away for your mom is growing older 
 every day and you being the only boy she has her heart 
 set on your staying pretty close. Come now, Jeremiah," 
 a smile wrinkled the corners of his eyes, " haven't you 
 seen yet a nice Mennonite girl you want to marry ? " 
 
 I thought of Sarah, dancing, playing a joyous part be- 
 hind the footlights and my courage oozed away like water 
 through the fingers. Perhaps I groaned, for father 
 looked at me with eyes I never could deceive and asked, 
 " You found the girl in the city ? " 
 
 I nodded, then rose and asserted myself. " Father, I 
 found the girl ! I am going to marry her. All I need is 
 your consent and mother's and an invitation to bring her 
 here for you to meet. You'll love her, she's a dear, sweet 
 girl. All she wants is a chance to win your love, to get 
 acquainted, and you can't help liking her." 
 
 " Who is she ? " Father rarely showed excitement. 
 
 " Sarah Galleghar. She's lovely, but all her life has 
 been so hard. She's absolutely alone in the world, had to 
 hoe her own row since she was fourteen." 
 
 " What does she work ? " 
 
 " She's an actress." 
 
 Well, if I had uttered the most depraved word in the 
 whole language he could not have looked at me with a 
 greater expression of horror. It left him speechless for 
 a minute. Then he rose, his mighty body seemed afire 
 with passion and I never heard, before or since, words 
 that seemed to burn like his. " Jeremiah," he thundered, 
 " are you a son of mine ? You dare to stand down there 
 and tell me that you love an actress a low-down dancing 
 fool that knows nothing but wickedness ? " 
 
 " Father ! " I tried to stop him but he went on ruth- 
 lessly.
 
 120 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " You Jeremiah Burkhart, with your mother wearing 
 a plain dress and white cap and a father that had always 
 tried to show his children the straight and narrow way 
 you, my own flesh and blood, to know, even to know an 
 actress, and then to say you love her and want to marry 
 her ! I wonder the Lord don't strike you dumb ! I won- 
 der you stop to marry her they don't often bother doing 
 that." Oh, father could be withering in his wrath and 
 scorn ! 
 
 But some of the Burkhart fire dwelt in me. He went 
 too far when he said such things about the girl I loved 
 and knew to be pure. I stepped before him and shook 
 my fist in his livid face. " You say another word against 
 that girl and I'll, by heaven, I'll " 
 
 " Go on," he dared me. " To strike me would be so 
 much kinder than to tell me you want to marry an 
 actress." 
 
 I sank into a chair. I was weak, as always, quick to 
 dare, but lacking courage to keep up the fight. " She's as 
 good as any girl in Lancaster County," I blurted, " as 
 good as any Mennonite girl or any other. I know she is ! 
 You have no right to condemn her without knowing her 
 or even meeting her." 
 
 My father's anger had cooled by that time and he 
 looked at me with something like pity for my weakness. 
 " Jeremiah," he said slowly, " you are going in this thing 
 with your eyes shut. You do not stop to think what it 
 will mean to bring a woman like that here, to have her be 
 a sister to your sisters, a daughter to your mother. You 
 have been taught something about the evil in the world, 
 and I thought your time spent in the big city would show 
 you how much better it is to forsake the vanities of the 
 wicked. But you must know that what is wrong can't
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 121 
 
 ever be called right and then be right because it is called 
 so. Dancing and such things are the work of the devil, 
 and woe to those who follow after the darkness ! You 
 mind what dreadful things happened because that girl 
 danced before Herod. What good has ever come out of 
 dancing? Would you want your sisters to marry men 
 who danced and acted on the stage ? " 
 
 "If they were as good and fine as Sarah, yes ! " 
 
 He shook his head. " What have I done to have a son 
 like you?" The next moment his wrath flamed again. 
 " I tell you," he thundered, " I'd rather bury you than see 
 you married to a woman like that, an actress, a dancer! 
 A disgrace you'll be to the whole f reundschaf t ! There 
 never was a Burkhart done a thing like that ! All I got 
 to say is that she'll never sit at my table ! I'll have none 
 of her kind for my daughter ! " 
 
 " You don't believe in eating with publicans and sin- 
 ners ? " I sneered. 
 
 " No. Not unless they repent of their wickedness and 
 become converted," he replied unflinchingly. " Your 
 mother and I will pray that she may do that." 
 
 " Save your breath," I told him. " I don't want Sarah 
 to turn Mennonite." I thought of her, pretty, liking nice 
 clothes, her toes tingling at every strain of music could 
 they make a Quaker-like little Mennonite of her ? Never ! 
 
 " I am going to marry her just as she is !" I announced, 
 " and be proud to do so ! " I delivered my ultimatum 
 and left my father. He refrained from replying; words 
 must have failed him once more as he pondered upon the 
 heretical sayings and contemplated downward step of his 
 son. 
 
 My mother said less, nothing cruel or stinging, but I 
 read horror and unhappiness on her face when I met her 
 later. Father had told her all the sorrowful tale, embel-
 
 122 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 lished, I suppose, with his opinion of the wretched mat- 
 ter. She felt keenly the disgrace I was going to bring 
 upon them. 
 
 " Jerry," she made the name soft and sweet as she had 
 always done, and as I looked into her face with its halo 
 of white Mennonite cap and read the sorrow in her heart, 
 I would have given up anything in the world to please her 
 except the one thing she wanted me to the girl I loved. 
 She took my face between her hands as she had so often 
 done when I was a child and she wanted to impress some- 
 thing upon me or sought to question me. " Jerry," she 
 said sadly, " you must see that a girl like that is not for 
 you, she is of another world. Can't you forget her and 
 find some nice plain girl from Fairview or near here ? " 
 
 " I can't, mother. I love her and what right has any- 
 body to come between us? She's such a sweet, frail 
 thing ; never had anybody really care for her, and she has 
 kept straight in surroundings that many of the good girls 
 from the country would have found too much for them. 
 I can't give her up." 
 
 My mother looked at me for a while, then she must 
 have read my very heart. She dropped her hands from 
 my cheeks and laid them on my shoulders. " Jerry," she 
 said, and I can hear her yet, " Jerry, I see you mean it. 
 It is beyond our power to change things and perhaps you 
 are right when you say no person has a right to come be- 
 tween you. If that's the way you care for her and she 
 for you you can't do anything but get married. We'll 
 pray the Lord to change her heart and make her one of 
 us. Whoever you marry I'll love, Jerry. She'll be my 
 daughter. Poor child, not to know a mother's love and 
 care poor girl I'll try to make it up to her." 
 
 I remember I cried then and she comforted me, though
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 123 
 
 I felt that the world was once more a good place. But 
 when my fit of weeping was over I thought of father. 
 " Father " I said to her. 
 
 " Yes, Jerry, your father is so strong in his belief that 
 it will be hard to make him see. But we'll hope that in 
 time he will think of her as a daughter. Perhaps we can 
 show the light to the poor girl." 
 
 But father did not see the light. He was firm and 
 frank. " No play-actress and dancer, except a converted 
 one, comes in my house ! " was the final verdict of the big 
 man who was so good himself in his narrow way that he 
 had no patience with offenders. "If you marry her 
 you'll be a disgrace to the family^ to the whole town, 
 forever ! " 
 
 I said good-bye to mother and went back to the city 
 and several days later I married the woman I loved. 
 Only after we were married did I tell her about my fa- 
 ther's attitude, for I was afraid if she knew it before she 
 would think it her duty to give me up. She was hurt, 
 poor girl, poor motherless girl who had been buffeted 
 about like a leaf in the storm and thought she had found 
 a safe place at last, only to discover that she was unwel- 
 come in the family. She couldn't understand the attitude 
 of the people who are opposed to her profession, she was 
 so sure that her life had been as blameless -as a baby's and 
 could not fathom why any man should sit in judgment 
 upon her. But there was a haughtiness about her, too, 
 for all her childlikeness, and she would not go to my 
 home to meet my mother. " I can't bear being pointed at 
 and called bad, or to be ordered out of the house. That 
 would be so much harder than to stay away. We'll just 
 cling together and long as you like me I'll manage to get 
 along," she said in her Irish teasing way. " But ask your
 
 124 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 mother to came make us a visit. I know I'll love her like 
 me own mother, so ask her soon, Jerry. I want to thank 
 her for you." 
 
 But my mother, partly from worry, I suppose, but 
 chiefly from a long-standing trouble, was taken suddenly 
 ill and before I could get to her she died. Your mother 
 would not go back with me then, for she said they would 
 make her feel like a murderess, so I went alone. I didn't 
 get a cordial welcome. My father would not tell me that 
 I was the cause of my mother's death, but he acted it and 
 I felt it burning in his eyes every time he looked at me. 
 He was a broken man but he hid it, as men of his nature 
 do, by gruffness and a greater drawing within himself. I 
 went back to the city, knowing that my chances for for- 
 giveness were scantier than ever. My two sisters kept 
 house for him and I knew they did not relish having me 
 around. Sybilla was just like father and told me what 
 she thought of my disgraceful actions, but Mary, bless 
 her heart, was like mother, and though she did not say 
 much I saw she was sorry for me and would have helped 
 me if she could. 
 
 " I am done with you for good," my father said to me 
 as I came away from my home after my mother was laid 
 away in the pretty little cemetery where the wild straw- 
 berries grow and the graveyard pinks carpet the whole 
 place in the spring. I took him at his word and went 
 back to my wife. We moved to New Jersey, getting out 
 of touch completely with the little Pennsylvania Dutch 
 town where I was born and had lived so many years. 
 There were few in the place who cared for me or dared 
 show it if they did. My old friends and relatives felt 
 that I was a disgrace, gone to the bad, married an actress, 
 broke my mother's heart, gone against my father's wishes,
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 125 
 
 thrown away my chances for a bright future as though 
 they were so many sticks, dragged the good name of 
 Burkhart down in the mud what greater criminal could 
 I be? 
 
 So the last cords with the old home were broken when 
 my mother died. Your mother made it up to me so far 
 as anything like that can be made up. She and I were 
 happy. I worked for her and she kept the home like a 
 new pin. It was fun to watch her, see her enjoy every 
 little bit of the home life. I never regretted my marriage 
 to her. She was all that I had hoped for, and more 
 sweet, unspoiled. When you came our little home be- 
 came a Paradise. You were so like her, laughing, sunny, 
 smiling. As soon as you walked you tripped about like a 
 dancer and sang like the birds. Your mother took such 
 great -joy in you, sewed pretty things, taught you to sing, 
 sang you to sleep I have often been sorry that you could 
 not remember those days. 
 
 When you were two years old she died. Child, it 
 doesn't take long to write that line, but oh, what it meant 
 to me ! The world went black for me. What was left ? 
 Could I go back to the old town where my sisters and 
 father lived and where my fancied disgrace was still re- 
 membered ? Could I remain in the big city and face life 
 alone, with only you to comfort me ? I was almost mad, 
 altogether, I think, for a time. I sold everything, and 
 started off with you on my arm. I think I intended to 
 take you to my sisters and then disappear, wander to the 
 ends of the earth. We tramped on a country road. I 
 remember as in a dream. We must have gone miles, you 
 on my arm and walking at times until you said you were 
 too tired. We rested along the road, then off again, not 
 knowing just where we were going. I have recollections
 
 126 THE MADONNA OF THE CURfi 
 
 of stopping at a farmhouse and getting milk, and once a 
 man thought I was a kidnapper, but you saved me by 
 telling that I was your very own daddy and we were go- 
 ing to aunties and grandfather far away. After a while 
 we came to the edge of a city, and I think I must have 
 been thoroughly unbalanced or fevered, for we stumbled 
 along my mind went blank and I remembered nothing 
 more until I came to in a little room. A woman brought 
 you in to me and you were so glad I woke up that you 
 cried and kissed me. How like your mother you have 
 always been ! The woman said I had fallen at her door 
 and you cried and brought them out. She was a widow 
 and lived with her mother in a poor but respectable sec- 
 tion of a big city in New Jersey. 
 
 I didn't care to get well, but after several months I was 
 all right again. Then a dullness, like sleep, seemed to be 
 upon my spirit. I hadn't enough ambition to get out and 
 go on with you. We might as well stay where we were 
 for a while until I felt better able to face the condemning 
 glances of the people in the little town back home. The 
 two women were kind to us, took fine care of you while I 
 dragged out to work, and we boarded with them for sev- 
 eral years. I knew it were better to take you to your 
 aunts, but somehow I could never bear the thought of 
 losing you. It was like putting from me the last thing 
 left of your adored mother. Then the mother of the 
 young woman died and I knew that we would have to go 
 unless I married the daughter. I did it, God forgive me, 
 for I married her when I had not one shred of love to 
 give her. But I got all the punishment I deserved, for 
 she soon made it plain that she cared for me only as I 
 earned money. She spent it faster than I could bring it 
 home, but I was married to her and after that I could not
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 127 
 
 go back home. So we stayed on, going from bad to 
 worse, moving from one neighborhood to another not 
 quite so clean and nice, until at last in desperation we 
 landed in Red Rose Court. One day she brought out a 
 counterfeiter's outfit, left in the house by some one who 
 had to make a hasty getaway, I suppose. I fooled with 
 the thing just in fun at first, then when I saw what I 
 could do with it it got me. I always was handy with 
 tinkering and when it brought me money so like the real 
 that it fooled most everybody, I let myself spend more 
 and more time in that little room back of the closet; a 
 mania seized me, I didn't care how you lived, what you 
 did or how you fared, just to make money, real money 
 out of nothing, the fascination of it got into my blood 
 and I waved aside all conscience and pride and gave my- 
 self up to the violation of the law. But the money didn't 
 do me any good ; it went like the real coins, through your 
 stepmother's fingers. She soon showed her real self. 
 The kind, pitying woman was gone and she drank, neg- 
 lected the house and would have been cruel to you if she 
 had not feared me on that point. Then one day I woke 
 up to my better nature once more. I saw my hideous 
 sins as though they were painted on a fifty feet canvas. 
 I wanted to turn over a new leaf, get away from that 
 awful Red Rose Court, go to a farm and begin life all 
 over again. You should have your chance, be raised 
 more like your mother would want you to be. You know 
 the rest, how my plans went wrong. I was arrested and 
 sent here and you to a reformatory. Oh, I am paying the 
 penalty the state demands for transgression of the law, 
 but I am paying more than that. Every day is one of 
 torture, for I can't put from me the memory of your 
 mother and the white-capped face of my own sainted one.
 
 128 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 How I have fallen from the standard they thought I 
 would uphold! Remorse remorse can any physical 
 punishment, any deprivation of freedom or comfort be 
 half so hard to bear as remorse that eats into the heart 
 and burns and cannot be relieved ! 
 
 Now you know the whole black story. I can't blame 
 any one for my sins except my own weakness and lack of 
 strength to stand against the storm. But if it is in my 
 power to restore you to what you should have had all 
 your life, a home, I am willing and glad to do it. My 
 father and sisters are still living. The warden looked it 
 up for me. In the little town of Fairview, in Lancaster 
 County, they are living in the big old house where I was 
 born and where I lived my boyhood. There is your home 
 and there you will find your people. They are different 
 from the people you know, perhaps they will not be glad 
 to have you, but I know their sense of justice is so strong 
 that in duty's name you will find a good home with 
 them. I think I shall be tortured less with remorse 
 if I know you are safe with them. Do as you 
 please about going to them, and if you can forgive 
 me for depriving you of all I did it will be more than 
 I deserve. If you denounce me for my weakness it 
 will be my due. Many of the people who live in places 
 like Red Rose Court know no better, have had no chance 
 to gain better things, but after you see my home in Fair- 
 view and meet the good, though odd, people there, you 
 will see just how far I fell when I went to the slums. 
 Sometimes I think it must have been an evil dream, but I 
 guess it has all been only too true. I'm afraid to die and 
 meet your mother after the way I dragged you to Red 
 Rose Court and neglected you. But you must be like her, 
 for the evil of the place did not seem to touch you.
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 129 
 
 However, my wrong to you is not lessened by the fact 
 that you kept right through the dreadful experience of 
 that place and the reformatory. My conscience worries 
 me day and night ; only when I know you are happy in the 
 home of my people will I feel some relief. I should have 
 sent you back to them long ago, when I was sent here. 
 Then you would have been spared the stigma of these six 
 years in a reformatory. But I couldn't bear to have you 
 go to them. Now I see my mistake, one more in a long 
 life of them. Seems like the only right thing I ever did 
 was to marry your mother. That is one thing I have 
 never regretted. Now you know the story. Forgive if 
 
 you can 
 
 YOUR FATHER. 
 
 Sarah dropped the letter into her lap. Her gray eyes 
 were fixed on space, vagrant, dreaming. " Poor father," 
 she murmured, "poor mother, poor me! Oh," she 
 clasped the closely written sheets against her heart, " he 
 wronged himself infinitely more than he wronged me. 
 Poor father hasn't been an angel, but I think his people 
 have some of that to account for. They did not under- 
 stand. His mother was the only one who tried to be 
 broad-minded and kind to him. The rest were, and I 
 dare say still are, like the woman who came to the re- 
 formatory to take notes on juvenile reform. They must 
 be cold, hard, their minds fixed on one standard. I'm 
 going to Fairview to my father's people and stay a while 
 just to show them what mean little hypocrites they are! 
 But I must write to daddy at once poor old shipwrecked 
 daddy ! He loved my mother and was true to her though 
 it cost him everything else he cared for in the world. 
 For that I can forgive him all that has happened."
 
 130 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 DEAR FATHER : 
 
 If there is anything for me to forgive you I did it 
 so long ago that I clean forgot all about it, so don't you 
 worry about that ! Why, Red Rose Court didn't hurt me 
 a bit ! I learned much there and it gave me a chance to 
 see how poor people live. Now when I fall heir to the 
 Burkhart fortune I take it for granted there is one, for 
 there always is in cases like this I shall know how to 
 appreciate it properly. Why, without my experience 
 there I'd never held the Maloney baby and loved it or 
 wheeled it home from the park while its soul went flying 
 back to heaven! And I should never have learned that 
 there are perfectly good shoes, dresses, flowers and so 
 forth in the ash cans of the wealthy. Oh, father, I may 
 sound frivolous but I mean every word I say. I do for- 
 give you anything, everything! I am glad you told me 
 about Fairview and my relatives. To think that I really 
 have a grandfather and two aunts and possibly a stack of 
 cousins after I thought I was almost alone in the world 
 is mighty strange and makes me feel that, after all, I 
 wasn't picked out of a garbage can. So I am going to 
 Fairview, without telling them that I am coming, else 
 they might go away and I'd find the house locked. No, 
 I'll just drop in on a visit and won't they be surprised! 
 I was going to say glad, but I guess that would be ex- 
 pecting too much. Miss Hughes is going to help me get 
 a proper outfit so they won't be ashamed of their new 
 relative. She offered to help me make dresses that are a 
 little different from the eternal blue uniforms of the re- 
 formatory. So, sometime in early spring, think of me 
 stopping at that old big house on Main Street, Fairview 
 seeing my people ! I shall write to you and let you know 
 how many parties and receptions they have in my honor.
 
 REVELATIONS OF SARAH'S FATHER 131 
 
 But, seriously, father, I am eager to go, to have, for a 
 time at least, a taste of a real home. Do you know that 
 in all my life, since I can remember, I have not lived in 
 one Red Rose Court doesn't count. Now I want a 
 Christmas tree, an Easter nest, a party, and all the trim- 
 mings. If they are not glad to see me come, then, as 
 Mrs. Maloney used to say, they'll be glad to see me go. 
 
 .With love, 
 
 SARAH.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 
 
 AFTER a long, bitter winter April smiled upon Lancas- 
 ter County. The gray succession of bleak days ended 
 and spring came with a rush. It blew fresh across the 
 mountains where the tall trees stood in serried ranks, it 
 ran smilingly along the meadows ancl fields of the valley 
 until every spot rejoiced in the promise of new beauty, 
 new activities, new growth and every woodland nook was 
 dappled with flowers and dimpled with life. The trees, 
 quickened, unfolded tassel and leaf; the flowers sprung 
 up with miraculous haste; the erstwhile doubting ones 
 who had asked querulously, " Will spring never come ? " 
 rejoiced in the fulfilment of the promise, " While the 
 earth remaineth . . . summer and winter . . . shall 
 not cease." 
 
 When Sarah Burkhart reached Lancaster County the 
 warmth and promise of the spring enwrapped it like a 
 garment. It had been a slow journey but to the girl who 
 had lived in so small a circle each hour of the two hun- 
 dred miles from Sunset Mountain to Fairview was 
 fraught with interest. Older, blase travelers complained 
 of the frequent stops on the last lap of the trip, as though 
 fifteen stations in thirty-two miles were an outrage, but 
 Sarah laughed at them and wished the train would stop 
 oftener, for was she not in her own father's country and 
 eager to see as much of it as possible ! Yet she rose with 
 alacrity when the train man cried, " Fairview ! " Here, 
 at last, was her home the home of her people !
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 133 
 
 A kind conductor helped her off the train with her bag- 
 gage and answered her smile with one equally sincere, 
 while he wondered who might be the radiant young crea- 
 ture who put into her " Thank you " so much feeling. 
 
 Sarah Burkhart at eighteen was worthy of a second 
 glance. Of medium height, slender and vibrant as a 
 sapling of the woods, she gave one the impression of con- 
 served strength, unbounded energy. Her six years on 
 the mountain had done wonders for her, but not miracles. 
 She still had the same little turned-up nose and the 
 freckles that had brought upon her so many fights in Red 
 Rose Court when spoken of disparagingly. But her hair 
 was black as ever and her gray eyes held depths as still 
 and lovely as a mountain stream. She still had her child- 
 hood's way of narrowing her lids in a scrutinizing gaze 
 when doubtful or perplexed, but at other times her eyes, 
 wide open as a Madonna's, had all the innocence of a 
 child's. As she stood on the little platform at Fairview 
 and watched the train depart, who would have dreamed 
 that the slim young girl had lived in the slums of a great 
 city and subsequently spent six years in a reformatory ? 
 
 As she stood there she was thinking of Miss Hughes. 
 How kind she had been, how more than kind! It had 
 been Miss Hughes who kept her on the mountain and 
 away from slavish labor in the home of some want-to-be 
 aristocrat who shied from paying proper servants. It 
 had been Miss Hughes who taught, loved and helped the 
 harum-scarum Sade of Red Rose Court how to act like a 
 lady, as the child expressed it in those first days away 
 from her father. Then later it was Miss Hughes who 
 arranged for new clothes and cajoled the Trustees into 
 buying for Sarah an outfit proper for her going back to 
 the home of her father's people. And it was Miss Hughes
 
 134 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 who found out about the trains, took her to the depot, 
 kissed her good-bye and waved a gay farewell as the mo- 
 mentous journey was begun. 
 
 Sarah felt elated at her successful carrying out of the 
 trip. " Why," she thought happily, " I bet I could travel 
 all the way to California alone! Here I am at last in 
 Fairview and I feel it in my bones that I am going to 
 have an adventure. Wish I had brought Jerry along. 
 But Miss Hughes persuaded me to leave him with her 
 guess it is the better way, for one girl my relatives don't 
 expect is quite enough, without adding a collie." 
 
 The thought set her laughing. At the sound an old 
 man who stood by an older conveyance turned to her 
 and asked, " Miss, was you wantin' to be drove any- 
 wheres ? " 
 
 Sarah looked at the hackman, then at the hack, and 
 suppressed a smile. She did not know that she was look- 
 ing at the important Transfer, as the residents of Fair- 
 view named the hack, important because it carried the 
 mail to and from the depot three times a day and could 
 be called upon to carry passengers to any part of the 
 little town of two thousand inhabitants. She saw merely 
 an odd, closed conveyance which she had no desire to 
 enter and leaning against it, a funny little old man who 
 chewed his gums, wore his trousers hitched to pink 
 suspenders, and turned a wrinkled, smiling face to her. 
 
 " No, I think I'll walk, thank you," she told him. " I 
 suppose it isn't very far. Do you know where Jeremiah 
 Burkhart lives ? " she asked eagerly. 
 
 " Me, well, I guess ! " came the swift reply. " Why, I 
 done all his haulin' since I drive the Transfer, for thirty 
 years anyhow, if not more. Ach, be sure I know where 
 he lives at! See that big street across them tracks?"
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 135 
 
 He pointed to the long shaded street where lindens and 
 horse-chestnuts grew rank along the curb. 
 
 " Yes," the girl told him. 
 
 " Well, now that's where Jeremiah Burkhart lives at. 
 In that big house, fourth from the corner this-a-way, the 
 one that's set back a piece in the yard and got the two 
 big trees right in the front yard that's it ! " 
 
 " Oh, thank you," Sarah said, her heart beating with 
 excitement. 
 
 " Don't mention it. But are you a relation of his, 
 mebbe ? " The curiosity of the small town person who 
 knows the name and pedigree of every visitor leaped to 
 the front. 
 
 "Thank you very much," repeated the girl, seeming 
 not to have heard the question. 
 
 " Comin' to visit then, mebbe ? " persisted the man. 
 
 " I think I can find it all right, thank you," said Sarah 
 as she picked up her bag and started off. 
 
 " Jimminy pats, she's close-mouthed ! Wonder now if 
 she might be some high-toned relation from the city ! 
 Heh, wonder how she'll like old Jerry must be her first 
 trip here if she don't know where he lives. Wonder how 
 he'll like her, with them stylish duds and pretty face and 
 all heh, he'll have some job makin' a Mennonite out her 
 if she's some one comin' to stay." 
 
 When Sarah reached the iron fence that separated the 
 Burkhart home from the street she stood still a moment. 
 A swift glance up the street showed her that all the 
 houses of the block were set in green terraced yards, back 
 from the fences and hedges. Oh, what a place for a 
 home! The Burkhart place was big, attractive in its 
 old-fashioned plain architecture, and to the girl who had 
 known nothing like it, appeared a veritable mansion.
 
 136 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 What a place for Christmas trees, parties and all the 
 delightful occurrences one read of in books. At that 
 moment she realized that dear as the home on the 
 mountain had come to be because of Miss Hughes, it had, 
 nevertheless, been merely an institution. Home would 
 this lovely old house with its yard and trees and its flow- 
 ers already bursting into bloom along the side of the 
 walks, be a real home for her ? It had been her father's. 
 Here had fallen upon his ears the denunciation of the 
 girl he loved, within those red brick walls had been 
 spoken the bitter words that had made him an outcast 
 from his people. Feelings varied and uncertain were 
 within her as she opened the gate and went up the three 
 sandstone steps that led to the walk and the front 
 porch. 
 
 She rang the bell. The door opened and a woman in 
 the garb of a Mennonite stood before her. For a minute 
 Sarah was confused. The plain dress of the woman, the 
 sheer white cap upon her head, surprised her. Then she 
 remembered that her father had mentioned something 
 about some religious sects flourishing among the Penn- 
 sylvania Dutch, sects that demanded of their followers 
 some peculiar garb to denote their aloofness from the 
 vanities of the world. Of course, her father's people 
 were members of some such sect. 
 
 " What did you want ? " The woman's voice was gen- 
 tle but none too cordial. Here, probably, was another 
 agent for books, aluminum, or something they didn't 
 need. 
 
 " Is this the place where Jeremiah Burkhart lives ? " 
 " Why, yes it is. Did you want to see him ? " 
 " Yes, or some other person in his family I'm his 
 granddaughter."
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 137 
 
 "His what?" The woman frowned, then looked 
 puzzled. " I guess you made a mistake, mebbe. He got 
 no granddaughter. He's my pop so I know." 
 
 " But he has a granddaughter," repeated Sarah, " I 
 know he has ! Didn't he have a son Jeremiah and hasn't 
 that son a daughter? Well, I am that daughter, so that 
 makes him my grandfather." 
 
 The woman started, then drew the girl into the hall and 
 closed the door. 
 
 " Come in," she said with agitation, " it's for no use to 
 stand on the step and let the neighbors hear it all. Now, 
 what's your name ? " She still appeared unconvinced. 
 
 " Sarah Burkhart. My father's name is Jeremiah. He 
 told me you lived here, and that you are my people." 
 
 " My, my," the woman shook her head sorrowfully, 
 " then Jeremiah had a girl and you're her my, my, pop, 
 he'll be dreadful put out. But mebbe it's good, for all, 
 you come, for he sits a lot and thinks and I got a notion 
 he often wonders what become of his boy. Now he's 
 gettin' old those things kinda stick to him. I guess you 
 know that your pop went to the bad, married a play- 
 woman, a dancer and that pop told him he was done with 
 him. It broke mom all up and she died soon after. Then 
 me and Sybilla, that's my big sister, started to keep the 
 house for pop and done so since. But we never heard 
 nothin' from Jeremiah since mom died; we thought he 
 was dead long a'ready. Guess he was ashamed to come 
 back after what he done. Pop, he says still that he made 
 his bed now let him lay in it." 
 
 " Are you my aunt ? " Sarah had to ask something to 
 keep her "Irish, temper from retorting denial of the 
 woman's accusations about her father. 
 
 " Me ? Why, yes. I'm your Aunt Mary, then. But
 
 138 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 come in the parlor and I'll go tell pop and Sybilla. Just 
 happens pop is home from the store." 
 
 " Pop ! " she called as she went down the wide hall, 
 " there's somebody in the parlor for you to see." 
 
 " For me ? " came a man's deep voice. Then the visitor 
 heard whispered conversations and once a raised, " My, 
 my, what a business ! " A few minutes later Aunt Mary 
 returned, followed by an older woman and an old man. 
 
 Sarah's hands were unconsciously flung out in entreaty 
 for welcome. " Are you my grandfather ? " she asked. 
 
 Jeremiah Burkhart was not the type to whom one 
 could give an impetuous greeting. Sarah's hands fell to 
 her sides and the two regarded each other in silence for 
 a spell. 
 
 She saw a patriarchal, dignified old man, the like of 
 which one finds frequently among the plain sects. His 
 big frame, and massive head, were dependable indices to 
 the strength and ruggedness of his nature. Stern, just, 
 uncompromising, Jeremiah Burkhart was a pillar in his 
 church, a man esteemed in his town, true as steel in 
 business, hating evil and worldliness equally, and so un- 
 swerving in his adherence to the straight and narrow way 
 that he had small patience with those who followed the 
 primrose paths of pleasure. His expression was not one 
 to inspire love or waken confidence in the heart of the 
 girl who had thrust her way unannounced into his house- 
 hold. 
 
 He looked at her over his steel-rimmed spectacles. 
 " You say you are Jeremiah's girl ? " 
 
 " Yes," the answer came weakly, while the girl won- 
 dered what had suddenly happened to her splendid 
 courage. She glanced at the elder daughter and found 
 there the same stern expression the man carried in his
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 139 
 
 eyes'. Only in the face of Aunt Mary was anything akin 
 to welcome. 
 
 " My father is your son," she gathered her recreant 
 senses together. " His name is Jerry." 
 
 "Jeremiah," corrected the man. "I never named no boy 
 Jerry. He was named for me and I am Jeremiah. But 
 he's been gone out of our lives for twenty years. Where 
 is he? Why did he send you to us? Was he afraid to 
 come himself and sent you instead? Why didn't you 
 come long ago if you want to know us? Where's 
 your mom ? " The questions were given in rapid suc- 
 cession, while the three of the household waited for 
 replies. 
 
 " My mother is dead, has been dead for sixteen years. 
 And my father ' 
 
 " Yes, what about him ? Is he dead too ? " 
 
 " No." Tears welled to the eyes of the girl. Oh, they 
 wouldn't understand and pity and forgive ! They would 
 condemn. " He is in in the penitentiary." 
 
 Aunt Mary drew in her breath and clapped a hand 
 over her eyes as if she would shut out the terrible fact. 
 Aunt Sybilla and her father nodded solemnly and the 
 latter expressed the opinion of both when he said, 
 " That's just where I thought he would end up when he 
 went against the teachings of a good mother and father. 
 In jail, and all because he married himself to a bad 
 woman." 
 
 " No, no ! " came the shrill protest of the girl. " My 
 mother was not a bad woman ! My mother didn't make 
 my father get where he is to-day. If you can blame any 
 one besides himself I guess " she pointed an accusing 
 finger to the man, her face drawn into a hard expres- 
 sion " I guess the blame comes back to you. I know the
 
 140 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 story of his life. You were so good and religious you 
 couldn't have any mercy on a decent girl when she 
 earned an honest living in the only way she thought she 
 could and a way she thought was all right. You said she 
 was wicked, but you didn't know her and had no right to 
 judge. My father married her and they were happy, for 
 they stuck to each other through thick and thin. He must 
 have loved her an awful lot to give up a home like this 
 and a mother like he told me about, but I guess that's 
 what he did do, for he says he is not sorry he married 
 her. Then she died and he had nobody but me, two years 
 old. Perhaps if he could have brought me back here and 
 stayed in his old home he would have been as good as 
 when my mother lived. But you said you were through 
 with him and he stayed away. He got into bad habits, 
 counterfeited and got caught and arrested and put be- 
 hind the bars. I was sent to a reformatory for there was 
 no person to take care of me. I stayed there six years. 
 Several months ago father told me about my people and 
 here I am." 
 
 She looked defiantly up into the face of the old man, 
 half wondering how she managed to say so long an 
 indictment to the stern person. 
 
 " Well," his words came slowly as though he were 
 weighing each one before utterance. " Here you are and 
 I guess this is the place for you if you are in the family 
 like you are. We will keep you even if you are the child 
 of that " 
 
 " I wouldn't say it," she suggested with dangerous 
 sweetness. " I guess you know your girls wouldn't want 
 to hear anything mean about their mother and I love the 
 memory of mine as much as they love the memory of 
 their Mennonite mother." She raised her head and
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 141 
 
 looked at her grandfather with calm, level dignity. " I 
 am here and would like to stay a while and get acquainted, 
 but please don't ever say anything mean about my dead 
 mother. She was sweet and good as any saint and I'll 
 love her always, so I will ! I love my father, too, even if 
 he is in jail ! Then you want me ? " she asked with pro- 
 voking Irish boldness. She knew only too well how 
 dubious was her welcome. 
 
 Aunt Sybilla, so like the stern old man, smoothed her 
 white cap strings and answered dutifully, " Of course, 
 you got a right to be here. Long as pop is your grand- 
 pap we ain't got no right to turn you out. Anyhow, 
 where would you go? Guess this is the only place you 
 can go unless you hire out and we wouldn't want that 
 when it ain't necessary. But you got to behave yourself 
 and not make abody ashamed with you. We got trouble 
 enough a'ready without you givin' yet more. If you act 
 like you should you dare stay for all it makes out to me. 
 I guess pop will say the same, ain't ? " She turned to the 
 man for approval. 
 
 " Yes. She's in the family but look here what's your 
 name Sarah ? Well, Sarah, you don't dare talk no more 
 to me like you done a while past ! To say I drove your 
 pop to the bad ! I won't have it ! I just wanted to make 
 a good man out him and if he'd done like I tried to make 
 him he'd be a blessing instead of makin' us all trouble. 
 He's reapin' what he sowed." 
 
 " Yes " Sarah lingered over the word and spoke with 
 so great an apparent guilelessness that the man could not 
 call her to halt. " Yes, he is reaping what he sowed and 
 I suppose we all -have some reaping to do we'd like to 
 run away from if we could." The shrewd Pennsylvania 
 Dutchman, wise and quick though he might be, was no
 
 142 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 match for the clever Irish strain that was so strong in 
 his newly found grandchild. 
 
 He admitted to himself that he did not relish the pres- 
 ence of the sharp-tongued, self-willed girl in his house 
 but he could do no less than open his door for her. The 
 knowledge that his son was a criminal was a sore blow to 
 him, but it added strength to his ancient conviction that 
 the ways of the world are evil ones, that dancing and all 
 frivolities carry ruin and disgrace in their wake. Per- 
 haps the child of the dancer could be redeemed, the in- 
 fluence of a religious family might keep her from follow- 
 ing after her parents oh, what a double inheritance the 
 child had weakness, worldliness! It would be their 
 duty to train her in the way she should go. 
 
 Presently Aunt Sybilla departed up-stairs to prepare a 
 room for the new member. Aunt Mary followed timidly 
 after her, though she longed to stay and become ac- 
 quainted with the girl. Sarah was left alone with her 
 grandfather. She squirmed about on her chair, but he 
 paid no attention to her uneasiness as he sat with his 
 hands resting on his cane and his eyes downcast. The 
 silence and presence of the man so deep in thought made 
 her restive. 
 
 " May I," she asked quietly, " please may I go out in 
 the yard and see the flowers ? " 
 
 He looked at her suddenly; his eyes had lost some of 
 their stern coldness and a brooding sadness was in them. 
 When he spoke he sounded totally unlike the accusing 
 man who had said such stinging things about her parents. 
 " Go out. We got a nice yard." 
 
 She found her way through the hall, dining-room and 
 into the immaculate kitchen open to the breezes from the 
 back yard. At the kitchen window she stood still and
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 143 
 
 looked out. The green loveliness of the grass and flower- 
 decked yard brought a sudden lump to her throat. She 
 dashed away a few tears, her lips quivered " I'm home 
 at last! But I'm not welcome. I'll have to work and 
 earn my place here. If I weren't so much of a coward 
 I'd pack right back to Miss Hughes, but it takes more 
 courage to do that than to stay here, so I'll stay." The 
 yearning for a home was for the time paramount over 
 the wicked desire to teach them what " mean little hypo- 
 crites they were " as she had said on the mountain. 
 
 Up-stairs the two sisters faced each other. " Mary," 
 the elder said sternly, " it seems like more than we de- 
 serve in the way of burdens to have that girl, the child 
 of a dancer, in our home. Jeremiah makes trouble for 
 us even after he's been away for twenty years." 
 
 " Poor Jerry," the other whispered. 
 
 " Yes, you pitied him always ; you got too much of his 
 softness in you ! Me, I'm like pop now, I make no fuss 
 over wickedness ; I call a spade a spade and a sin a sin." 
 
 " I know, Sybilla, you are very strong and so good ^ 
 Christian like I can never be. Guess I got too much 
 easiness in me, like you say. But I can't seem to get over 
 it, no matter how hard I try still. Now mebbe this is 
 our chance to help poor Sarah, to show her the right way 
 and keep her from goin' to the bad." 
 
 " Well, that's the only way I can find any comfort in 
 her bein' here. She's not much of a Burkhart, did you 
 notice? Her eyes and hair must be her mom's. Her 
 nose, turnin' up, is all that's ours. But to think of it 
 our Jeremiah, our own flesh and blood, to be in jail! 
 Fairview will have somethin' to talk about now for a 
 while." 
 
 "Must they know?"
 
 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 1 
 
 " Ach, how could abody keep it quiet in a town like 
 this? We might as good print it in the Examiner next 
 week for everybody will know the girl is here and want 
 to know who she is and where her pop is and before you 
 know the cat will be out the bag. So we might better tell 
 and done with it. We can't lie." 
 
 " No, we can't lie," agreed Mary. " Sybilla, it makes 
 abody feel bad about her not havin' a home for so long 
 and livin' in one of them places they sent bad girls to. 
 I thought still only terrible bad ones was there, but I 
 guess nobody wanted her and what could they do with 
 her? If only her pop'd sent her to us long a'ready ! It's 
 a wonder she ain't gone to the bad altogether bein' in 
 with them others. Now we got to show her how good a 
 home she has here." 
 
 " Don't you go spoilin' her a'ready. She's her mom's 
 child and I guess we got our hands full till she grows up. 
 She looks strong and can help with the work. It'll come 
 in handy this summer with the cherries and things to can 
 and garden to tend and such things. Mebbe for all it's 
 good she come, and she's relation to us." 
 
 " Well, I guess ! " said Mary, smiling, " 'bout as near 
 as we got except pop." The face of the younger woman 
 bore a strange, unwonted expression. At last she was 
 going to have one of her eternal longings satisfied a 
 young person in the house, to love and teach and help. 
 Sarah was sure of one friend. But she had no pre- 
 science of that friendship as she stood by the kitchen win- 
 dow and looked out at the yard. A sudden loneliness 
 seized her ; she wished she had her dog, or Miss Hughes, 
 or even Mrs. Maloney, to talk to. Then she heard her 
 name called and turned to the hall. 
 
 " Ma'am ? " she answered.
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 145 
 
 " Fetch your things up here," came Aunt Sybilla's 
 voice. As the girl reached the top step the aunt told her, 
 " You needn't call me ma'am. I'm your Aunt Sybilla. 
 You call me that." 
 
 " Yes, Aunt Sybilla." The girl was suddenly very meek 
 as she followed the woman into a big room where a 
 freshly made bed stood along one side. 
 
 " This will be your room. You dare take care of it 
 yourself, all but the sweepin' every week on Friday. I 
 do that. Can you make a bed ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I learned to work in the reformatory." 
 
 " And you needn't keep talkin' about that reform'tory 
 all the time, neither. In a little town like Fairview such 
 things gets round quick enough without you tell them 
 every time you open your mouth." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, I mean Aunt Sybilla ! You must par- 
 don me if I forget how to address you for I never had 
 an aunt. You see I never had any family till I found 
 you. That's the reason I was so anxious for father to 
 tell me where to find you for I did so want relatives like 
 other people have." 
 
 " And you needn't talk about your pop all the time, 
 either," came another command of the woman. " We 
 can talk without draggin' his name in. Your grandpap 
 ain't too anxious to hear his name and me neither, seein' 
 all the trouble we had from his actin'." 
 
 Sarah's strange meekness vanished like smoke. She 
 tossed her head and said, " When it comes to my father 
 no one is going to muzzle me! I care for him and I 
 guess it's no crime to talk about him." Her loyal heart 
 had no thought to allow the memory of him to sink into 
 oblivion. 
 
 " Well," responded the woman diplomatically, " if you
 
 146 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 want the whole town of Fairview to hash over all the 
 things your pop done and get it printed in the paper that 
 he's in jail, just you go ahead and talk about him all the 
 time, that's all ! " 
 
 " Oh, I guess I guess perhaps it would be wiser not 
 to mention him too often. But I'll think about him ; no- 
 body can stop me thinking about him ! " 
 
 " Put your things in that closet and then come down 
 in the kitchen," ordered Aunt Sybilla. " Mebbe you can 
 help your Aunt Mary for I got work in the garden yet. 
 This here comin' unexpected upset the day for us. Now 
 you know where your room is I can go back to my work." 
 
 When Sarah was left alone in her sanctum she looked 
 about. It was the largest bedroom she had ever seen. 
 In the home on the mountain they were such tiny things, 
 but this it appeared very fine to her eyes. The old- 
 fashioned walnut bureau and its tombstone marble slab 
 top was novel to her. Also the massive bed with its 
 patchwork quilt, the wash-stand with its pitcher and bowl 
 and its red-outlined splasher tacked to the back to save 
 the wall-paper, the rag carpet and hooked rugs. On a 
 hooked rug spread before the bureau was the word 
 WELCOME drawn in with vivid red wool on a background 
 of tan. The absurdity of the word in her room when 
 she was certainly not as welcome as the rug implied sent 
 her into a merry gale of laughter. " Why," she gasped 
 after a moment's indulgence in mirth, " I can laugh yet ! 
 Bless me, if I didn't think I clean forgot how since Aunt 
 Sybilla scared me stiff." 
 
 Her room was lovely, she thought, perfectly lovely; 
 there at least she was not disappointed. But the rooms 
 down-stairs, what she had seen of them, were impres- 
 sive. Her family must be wealthy to have a house with
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 147 
 
 so many rooms, all large ones, and furnished with heavy 
 furniture and fine carpets almost covered with numerous 
 small rugs. And the lawn and porch she sighed with 
 pleasure to think it was all a part of her home. What a 
 place for little children! How the Maloney baby that 
 died from the heat would have enjoyed that grass and 
 fresh air! 
 
 "Sarah!" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, I mean, Aunt Mary," she answered the 
 call over the stairway. 
 
 " Are you soon comin' ? " 
 
 " Right away. I was dreaming." 
 
 " Ach, then it's all right. I just thought mebbe you 
 didn't know you should come down when you get done." 
 
 Sarah ran down the stairs and out to the kitchen. She 
 felt less restraint in the presence of the gentle aunt who 
 had inherited the mother's traits rather than the paternal 
 ones. 
 
 " Let me help you, Aunt Mary," she begged ; " the cook 
 at school said I was real handy." Aunt Mary took her 
 at her word and the girl was soon busy with preparations 
 for supper. A feeling of friendliness sprang up in her 
 heart. With her impulsive Irish quickness she said to 
 the white-capped woman as they worked together in the 
 kitchen, " I like you, Aunt Mary, and feel we are going 
 to be friends. But that other aunt with the queer name 
 say, can she smile at all?" 
 
 " Hush," warned the woman. " Sybilla is always quiet- 
 like and sad. She's had a big trouble in her life. She 
 never got over it right. But it's most twenty years ago 
 and I think still I'd kinda forgot all about it by now, but 
 then abody thinks still you would do so and so till you 
 get to the same place."
 
 148 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Trouble," echoed Sarah, " had trouble twenty years 
 ago and still looks like a funeral about it! Who ever 
 heard of such a thing? That's just like Mrs. Maloney 
 used to say, some people hold on to their troubles so hard 
 they couldn't slip away if they wanted to." 
 
 "But, ach," Aunt Mary's face was soft with sym- 
 pathy, " poor Sybilla had an awful big trouble." 
 
 "What kind?" 
 
 " Sh ! " cautioned the woman, " we don't talk about it 
 at all! But abody can see Sybilla thinks about it and 
 ain't goin' to ever get over it right." 
 
 " But what was it, what dreadful thing happened to 
 her?" 
 
 " Sh ! Mebbe some day I might tell you about it. 
 But you must bear with her and not mind when she is a 
 little cross or strict. She is so unhappy all the time, but 
 she's so good, much better than I. If trouble hits the 
 worst one in the family I would got it stead of poor 
 Sybilla, but me, I never had much trouble in my life. 
 Sybilla says still that if the Lord loved them He chasten- 
 eth, like it says in the Bible, then He must love her an 
 awful lot to give her such a burden." 
 
 " Um," Sarah was thoughtful, " Miss Hughes used to 
 say that she knew some people who held on to burdens 
 that would roll away if the people only had sense enough 
 to let go." 
 
 " Yes ? I never heard anything like that now, mebbe, 
 for all, that might be true. But I know that Sybilla is a 
 good woman and she's kinda boss round here, being the 
 oldest and all. So if you do what she tells you she'll 
 treat you right." 
 
 " Say," said Sarah, " isn't that the way of most 
 of us ? We're nice to them who are nice to us but when
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 149 
 
 it comes to sinners and those who go against us 
 whew!" 
 
 Her words set the woman thinking. " Sarah," she said 
 softly, " it wouldn't wonder me none if we learned a few 
 things yet from you before you get done with us ! " 
 
 The girl laughed, but she remembered the words. 
 " Mrs. Maloney, a woman who lived in the same street 
 when I was little, used to say that children and fools 
 speak the truth, so perhaps I do hit the nail on the head 
 sometimes." 
 
 The evening meal in the Burkhart home was a simple 
 one in their opinion but to Sarah, accustomed to the 
 plain fare of the reformatory, it was a feast. She helped 
 to carry it to the big table in the kitchen, then sat down 
 where she was directed by Sybilla. During a long grace 
 said by her grandfather she kept her head bowed as low 
 as the others. Then when it was ended she sat up ex- 
 pectantly, ready for the first meal in her new home. 
 Something of the sacredness of a love-feast seemed to 
 hover round the table for the girl, but Aunt Sybilla 
 began very matter-of-factly to pass the food and settle 
 to the task of consuming it. 
 
 " You know," began Sarah, " when I first went to to 
 the mountain I thought it was the funniest thing to say 
 grace every meal-time." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Aunt Sybilla. " Didn't you get 
 learned to do that at home when you was little ? " 
 
 "In Red Rose Court?" laughed the girl. "If you 
 could see that place ! " Then her face grew serious, her 
 voice was filled with the appealing tenderness that played 
 such havoc upon heart-strings. " You people can't know 
 what it means to me to have a real home after so many 
 years of being without one ! "
 
 150 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Sarah," the grandfather told her, " you be a good girl 
 and you will always have a good home here." 
 
 " Yes " her peculiarly characteristic reasoning fol- 
 lowed " I believe that, but don't you think that some- 
 times when people don't behave is just the time they need 
 the good home most?" Her words left the others 
 strangely silent. What manner of girl was this? Was 
 she, indeed, of their own flesh and blood? Ah, that 
 despised, detested Irish strain in her must be responsible 
 for her strange beliefs and sayings ! The meal was rather 
 a silent one. Evidently talking and eating did not seem 
 to be in favor at the same time in that home. 
 
 " Oh," thought Sarah, " I'll change a few things around 
 here if I stay long enough ! Perhaps if I lick them into 
 shape they'll be a first-class family ! " Her face lighted 
 with a whimsical smile. 
 
 That night after the girl had been piloted up-stairs by 
 Aunt Mary, taught to light the oil lamp and extinguish 
 it, there was a family conference in the sitting-room 
 down-stairs. 
 
 " She's of our flesh and blood and it's our duty to keep 
 her," said the old man. " But she don't seem just like 
 the girls here in Fairview. It might be that she was sent 
 to us just to be converted and pointed to the light. We 
 don't want another Burkhart goin' to the bad." 
 
 Mary nodded quiet approval. But Sybilla was slower 
 to acquiesce. " Well," she deliberated, " it looks like a 
 big job to make a quiet, refined girl out of her, but mebbe 
 like pop says she was sent here for the salvation of her 
 soul. It's plain she had no religious teachin', such queer 
 things like she says, such dumb ones, and kinda makin' 
 fun of holy things. Mebbe we can make a Christian 
 outa her."
 
 LANCASTER COUNTY 151 
 
 And so began the reformation of Sarah Burkhart, the 
 child of Red Rose Court and Sunset Mountain and 
 simultaneously began the reformation of Jeremiah Burk- 
 hart and his daughters !
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION 
 
 SYBILLA BURKHART had spoken truly when she said 
 that in a little town like Fairview the news of the new 
 arrival in their home would travel rapidly. The majority 
 of residents had little sympathy for the father of Sarah. 
 In many households youths prone to error were held in 
 check by the dreadful prediction, " If you don't do better 
 you'll go to the bad like young Jerry Burkhart ! " Thanks 
 to the derelictions of the said Jerry Burkhart many 
 youthful propensities to evil were curbed among the ris- 
 ing generation of Fairview, which proves the theory that 
 even in wickedness may dwell some glimmer of good, 
 some valuable by-product be derived from apparent use- 
 lessness. But the town had long since listed young Jerry 
 among the black, hopelessly black, sheep of its fold and 
 wondered how it had come to pass that so righteous a 
 man as Jeremiah senior could be the father of so wicked 
 a son. After his departure from Fairview the people 
 felt as though an evil influence had been lifted from the 
 place. They knew of his marriage with the dreadful 
 woman, but of his later life and incarceration were as 
 ignorant as his own people had been until the coming of 
 Sarah. 
 
 Several neighbors had seen the stranger enter and 
 formed various conjectures as to the nature of her er- 
 rand. The driver of the Transfer spread the news that 
 a fine, stylish young lady had asked him where Jeremiah
 
 FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION 153 
 
 Burkhart lived and she had a bag and looked like she 
 came to stay a while. But all doubt as to the transient- 
 ness of the visitor was answered that night when watch- 
 ing neighbors saw the screens placed in the windows of 
 the front spare room and a lamp standing on the bureau. 
 That settled it ; the young lady had come to stay, at least 
 a while. For everybody knew that one-or-two-night visi- 
 tors to the Burkhart house were placed invariably in the 
 little spare room to the south side of the house ; it was 
 only the lengthy visit that caused the opening of the big 
 spare room facing the street. 
 
 Urgent, consuming inquisitiveness was rampant among 
 the people on the street near by. It was the neighbor di- 
 rectly opposite the big Burkhart house who undertook to 
 gather the information. She discovered very opportunely 
 that she had in her kitchen a plate belonging to the Burk- 
 hart girls so she decided, " It's about time to take that 
 there plate back once." 
 
 Hence, on the second day of Sarah's stay in her new 
 home, while she and Aunt Mary were washing the break- 
 fast dishes, there was a step on the back porch and a 
 breezy voice called, " I brought back your plate once. 
 Guess you thought we eat it with the cake but land, 
 you got company! If I'd knowed that I'd dressed!" 
 She swung back her apron and tried to look surprised. 
 
 " Come in, Mrs. Roth," invited Mary Burkhart. " You 
 might just as good meet our company now. This is 
 Sarah, our Jerry's girl." 
 
 " Jeremiah's girl ! " Even the gossiping Mrs. Roth was 
 surprised. She had never dreamed of that identity for 
 the stranger ! " Why, I didn't know he had any chil- 
 dren. My, my, that's a surprise ! Abody don't get many 
 in this little town, but here's one once ! "
 
 154 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 "Yes, it will give Fairview something to talk over. 
 Some folks got ears like buckets anyhow, always ready 
 to catch something. Now I guess they'll have a good 
 time tellin' all about poor Jerry and that his girl is with 
 us. Jeremiah was married, you knew that." 
 
 "Was? Is he dead then? Or her?" 
 
 " She's dead, but he's livin' " the woman was re- 
 luctant to place on exhibition another part of the family 
 skeleton. But the curiosity of Mrs. Roth was as a 
 ravenous beast and hard to be appeased. 
 
 " Then if he's living why is his girl here only on a 
 visit?" 
 
 " No, she come to stay." 
 
 "Oh," cried Sarah, "let me tell her. Don't try to 
 keep it a secret on my account." Poor, innocent child 
 had no knowledge of the workings of small-town gossips 
 or the sharp tools of their trade. 
 
 " Well," said Aunt Mary hesitatingly, " I guess abody 
 might as good tell it for it will come out anyhow soon. 
 Jerry he he done wrong and is in jail! " 
 
 " Jail ! You don't mean it ! " Mrs. Roth's eyes posi- 
 tively danced with amazement. What a rare bit of gos- 
 sip she was unearthing that day ! " Jail, that's just where 
 I thought he'd wind up! My, my, how hard for your 
 pop and you girls to have such a disgrace. It must be 
 awful to know your brother is in a place like that! 
 That's one thing I can say about my family, there ain't 
 been a real bad one in that I remember." 
 
 " Oh, tell that to the Marines," said the girl, tossing 
 her head. " I guess every tree has some rotten branches. 
 But I'll tell you, Mrs. Roth, my father isn't real bad. 
 He made money by counterfeiting and is paying for it all 
 right more than lots of people pay for the money they
 
 FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION 155 
 
 make dishonestly. There's lots worse than my poor fa- 
 ther floating around loose." 
 
 Mrs. Roth looked at the girl, aghast. Her glib tongue 
 failed her unaccountably for a moment. What manner 
 of girl was this ? So bold, strange in speech, disrespect- 
 ful of her elders and betters but what else could be ex- 
 pected of a daughter of young Jerry Burkhart ! 
 
 " Poor Mary," she sighed, " you have my sympathy. 
 It's bad enough to have a brother in jail but to have to 
 be afflicted with his girl my, my ! But mebbe it's good 
 for her you got her in time, then you can reform her." 
 
 " Oh, no," interrupted Sarah, determined to shock the 
 busybody further. " I have been reformed ! I spent the 
 last six years in a reformatory in New Jersey, so you see 
 I am all right now." 
 
 " A reformatory ! Six years ! " What an orgy of 
 gossip-dispensing was in store for Mrs. Roth ! " My, my, 
 what a cross for you good people ! It wonders me some- 
 times why you got such troubles when you are all such 
 good people. If there is anything I can do to help you 
 don't mind letting me know. Me and Dan are only too 
 glad to help the neighbors in trouble." Then she looked 
 at Sarah as though the girl were some hitherto undis- 
 covered specie of utter depravity. It might have been 
 the first time she was privileged with a close look into the 
 face of a girl who was not only the daughter of a jail- 
 bird, but the recent inmate of a reformatory. She ap- 
 peared to suspect that the girl would poke out a mocking 
 tongue or screw up her face in derision of her betters, 
 but Sarah looked at her and smiled a cryptic smile that 
 left the gossip wondering what it meant, as the thou- 
 sands who look at Mona Lisa each year are wondering 
 whence and why that smile.
 
 156 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Well, I must hurry home, I got work to do," and the 
 neighbor took her leave, thrilling with importance, for 
 she carried in her brain the details of the star gossip 
 scoop of years. 
 
 But the work was evidently not in her own home. If 
 Mary or Sarah had been in the parlor fifteen minutes 
 later they would have seen Mrs. Roth hurrying up the 
 street. She meant to call at five or six stores, the post- 
 office, the bank, the dressmaker's, the cobbler shop and at 
 the homes of several close friends and casually mention 
 the news Jeremiah Burkhart was in jail for counter- 
 feiting and his daughter, about eighteen, was in Fairview 
 with his people and going to stay. She had been in a 
 reformatory for six years it was very important to add 
 that, for of all the wayward youths of Fairview none 
 ever set foot in a reformatory. Some had gotten into 
 scrapes but if it had concerned money their parents had 
 paid the damages and the youths were left free. Not 
 one, of all the long list of boys and girls born and reared 
 in Fairview, had ever been bad enough to be confined in 
 a place like the one in which Sarah had spent six years. 
 Six years that proved how very, very bad she must have 
 been ! " No wonder she was a bold, brazen thing, talk- 
 ing so to me," was the thought of Mrs. Roth as she 
 hurried to the home of a friend. 
 
 " I tell you," she confided to the friend, " it means that 
 we keep our young people away from her. She'll spoil 
 them all. I remember having the teacher in Sunday 
 school tell us once about a man who had a whole barrel 
 of good apples and put a rotten one in with them to see 
 if the good ones would make the rotten one all right. 
 But of course, the one rotten one spoiled the whole barrel 
 of good ones! I won't have my Dan running around
 
 FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION 157 
 
 with any girl like Sarah Burkhart. Even if she is related 
 to that nice family, she must know lots of bad things our 
 girls and boys don't dream of, and we don't want to have 
 them spoiled by her." 
 
 After Mrs. Roth left Aunt Mary sighed. 
 
 " What's the trouble? " asked Sarah. " Don't you like 
 her, either ? " 
 
 " What why " The girl's insight was uncanny. 
 
 " I was just thinkin' that she talks too much." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Aunt Sybilla who had been told about 
 the early morning visitor. " I guess she does. She'll be 
 goin' up town soon to tell the news." 
 
 Sarah laughed. " Walking newspaper, like lots of 
 women ! But I wrote a poem once about too much talk- 
 ing. I'll recite it to you. 
 
 " The owl looks wise and never says a word, 
 So folks pronounce it a wise old bird. 
 If we talked less while going to and fro 
 No one could tell how little 'tis we know ! " 
 
 " Now, that ain't no lie ! " declared Aunt Sybilla. 
 " Abody does talk too much ! " 
 
 So Sarah returned to the home of her father, the home 
 where she had dreamed of a welcome; happy times like 
 parties, Christmas trees, Easter nests, jolly visitors. Poor 
 little girl, whose only recollection of a home was the en- 
 graving of the squalid hovels in Red Rose Court ! How 
 long until her hopes be materialized, her vaporous rain- 
 bows be crystallized into reality ? 
 
 The girl, quick to detect hostility or suspicion, made 
 wise by long contact with trouble and misfortune, was 
 not slow in finding the true state of mind concerning her.
 
 158 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 The double stigma branded her above all hope of re- 
 demption or fitness for friendship with the correct young 
 people of Fairview. So thought many of the good peo- 
 ple of that little town, people who religiously paid tithe in 
 anise and mint but omitted the weightier matters of char- 
 ity and forbearing and understanding. It was the same 
 old story of intolerant, narrow human nature. Wasn't 
 it too great a risk to take into their homes a girl like 
 Sarah, and invite contamination for the girls who had 
 been so carefully taught and guarded from all evil! 
 That was the natural attitude of every mother and is not 
 without justification. Of course the newcomer was en- 
 titled to any help they could give her the missionary 
 spirit was alive in the little town. She came in for the 
 same consideration as the heathens in Zanzibar or the 
 cannibals of the ocean isles. But when it came to loving 
 her, associating with her, taking her into the intimacy of 
 their fine homes she was without the pale. The first 
 Saturday no less than six persons called at the Burkhart 
 house and offered to take Sarah to Sunday school if she 
 cared to go. But she saw through the ruse and shocked 
 them by saying she didn't think she wanted to go, she 
 had to go to church every Sunday in New Jersey and 
 she thought a change would be pleasant. At any rate, 
 she had joined the Episcopal Church over in Jersey and 
 if she wanted to go to any service she could go alone, for 
 that church stood just around the corner from her house. 
 
 Her apparent lack of interest in church matters did 
 not tend to lessen the prejudice against her. She was 
 spoken of as a little heathen, probably one of the infidels 
 who have no thought about their souls. 
 
 But Aunt Sybilla settled for Sarah the matter of 
 church attendance. The first Sunday was a typical Lan-
 
 FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION 159 
 
 caster County spring day, with robins caroling, sunshine 
 spilling gold over the great outdoors, soft winds laden 
 with perfumes like the scents of Araby. It was a day 
 that called, invited, lured responsive hearts away from 
 walls and roofs. Sarah heard its call. Such a day she 
 loved, but how minor the portions of enjoyment if it had 
 to be spent indoors. 
 
 When Aunt Sybilla asked at breakfast, " Sarah, is it 
 true what you told Mrs. Roth and them other ladies what 
 came to ask you go along to church, that you are a 
 Tiscopal?" 
 
 " Yes. I was confirmed two years ago in the little 
 church at the foot of Sunset Mountain." 
 
 " Well, then I guess you want to go to that church. 
 But anyhow, you got to go somewheres every Sunday. 
 Long as you live in our house you keep the Sabbath 
 right. You dare go to your own or whenever you want a 
 simple service that mebbe might do you more good than 
 all that funny Tiscopal foolin' with gettin' up and down 
 all the time, then you come along with us to Mennonite 
 once." 
 
 " I'll go with you this morning," she decided, not so 
 much in the hope of enjoying or profiting by a simple 
 service as with the youthful desire to find something 
 novel. 
 
 " I'm glad," said the aunt, " for in this house every- 
 body goes to church anyhow once on Sunday unless 
 they're sick or something." 
 
 " Well, I generally have a weak spell every Sunday," 
 said the girl roguishly, but her aunt failed to see the 
 humor of it. There was not one spark of Irish in Aunt 
 Sybilla, that was plain ! 
 
 " What for dumb talk is that ? " she asked, frowning.
 
 160 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB; 
 
 " We don't make fun at church goin' ! Get yourself 
 ready soon so we can start early, Sarah. We don't get 
 late to church, we don't ! " 
 
 The girl's interest in new things was fully alive that 
 Sunday morning as she sat in the Mennonite Meeting 
 House with her new-found family. What a strange place 
 it was, in her opinion ! Bare, white walls, no musical 
 instrument, no cushioned seats or carpeted aisles ! It 
 brought her a curious sense of peace. Through the wide 
 open windows came the sound of singing robins, the 
 twitter of busy sparrows, and occasionally the sweet call 
 of a song sparrow as it swayed on a branch within sight 
 of the girl. As the service progressed the girl's feeling 
 of peace deepened. How wonderful it must be to go 
 through life with the calm serenity of the white-capped 
 women, but the disturbing thought intruded were not 
 the lives of the plain women sometimes at variance with 
 the very calmness they sought to express by their plain 
 clothes? Did not storms rage, passions trouble, sorrows 
 burden the hearts under the plain dresses? Ah, life was 
 such a riddle, thought the child who had seen so many 
 of its worst aspects. 
 
 Once as she looked at her grandfather her heart 
 thrilled. How strong he appeared, how like a prophet, 
 a veritable Jeremiah! And he was hers, a part of her 
 family, her ancestor of whom she might boast as she had 
 read people sometimes did! A man like that to be the 
 father of a a she could not think the word in the quiet 
 Mennonite Church! In that same place her father had 
 sat and swung his legs impatiently at the tediousness of 
 the preachers, now he languished behind barred windows 
 and heavy doors. What was wrong, whose the fault ? 
 
 Some idea of what it cost her grandfather to sit there
 
 FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION 161 
 
 calmly under the gaze of pitying friends who must be 
 thinking of the son, came to her. Poor grandfather, for 
 the first time she began to see that perhaps he had done 
 his duty as he saw it, that his heart must ache for the 
 erring boy. He looked sadder than upon that first day 
 when she had surprised him by announcing her relation- 
 ship to him. " Poor grandfather, I am going to try hard 
 to like him and please him. Guess this business of havin' 
 a son wander off hasn't been a very happy one for him, 
 either. These are my people and it seems to be my duty 
 to adapt myself to their ways so far as I can ever do 
 that, if I want to stay with them. After all, it's hard 
 luck to have a girl drop from the skies and say, ' I'm 
 your granddaughter, so take care of me and love me.' I 
 did have a nerve ! But I'm here and goin' to stay for a 
 while and get acquainted." 
 
 The coming of the new member of the family did not 
 disturb the household to any visible extent. Old Jere- 
 miah went to his hardware store as usual, cane in hand, 
 face set and solemn. Sybilla capably managed the af- 
 fairs of the home, worked in the garden and house, while 
 Mary was content to do the tasks the elder sister left to 
 her and Sarah fitted in at so many places that she won- 
 dered, after a few weeks, how they ever got along with- 
 out her. Her willing hands could relieve the women of 
 many tasks and earned for her the first praise of Aunt 
 Sybilla, " You're real handy. They had some sense up 
 there where you lived, for they learned you to cook and 
 work and be of some use." 
 
 " I'm glad I can help you, then I shall feel less like a 
 parasite." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " Things that live off others."
 
 162 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 *.. a 
 
 " Um, well, there's plenty of them around without you 
 bein' one yet ! " 
 
 Her commendation was sweet to the girl and gave her 
 courage to ask a question she had longed to ask during 
 the week and more of her stay in the new home " Aunt 
 Sybilla " 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 " Why, when will I learn to know some girls ? I see 
 some pass in the evenings, some nice-looking ones who I 
 think I'd like, but how am I going to get acquainted with 
 them?" 
 
 " Guess not at all unless they take it in their heads to 
 come and see you. But I don't believe they want to meet 
 you very bad, seein' how it's all around town that your 
 pop is in jail and you was in a place for bad girls for 
 six years." The bluntness of the words almost staggered 
 the girl, who knew so little of some of the ways of the 
 world. 
 
 " You mean, you think, that because my father is where 
 he is I must be treated like a leper ? " 
 
 " Ach, don't talk so dumb! Like a leper! I guess if 
 you was that you'd find something else out ! " 
 
 " Well," cried the girl, her old childish temper mount- 
 ing, " I'd just as soon be one as to be treated like you 
 say ; everybody runs from me ! " 
 
 Some innate sympathy stirred in the woman as she 
 saw the distress on the face of the girl. It was too bad ! 
 " Now," she said soothingly, " you wait a while, mebbe 
 some of the nice girls will come round. I guess they 
 ain't all afraid of you. You must act nice and show 
 them you aren't poison. You take the pocketbook and 
 go to the store at the corner for some sugar." 
 
 She did as she was bid, but there was none of her
 
 FAIRVIEW'S RECEPTION 163 
 
 wonted springing lightness in her steps as she started up 
 the tree-shaded street. Was Aunt Sybilla right in her 
 conjecture? Would the young people of the town ignore 
 her because of what had happened in past years? She 
 had been an innocent victim of circumstances, but she 
 knew that did not always prevent injustice. Perhaps 
 Aunt Sybilla was soured ; what could she know about the 
 hearts of youth ! But even as her hopelessness gave way 
 to brighter things her attention was arrested by the sound 
 of her name. The next moment she became an unwilling 
 listener to two girls loitering inside a half-opened door- 
 way " That dreadful Burkhart girl ! Imagine Mary 
 Becker saying she is going to call on her and try to get 
 her in our crowd ! We all told Mary we'd cut her dead 
 if she dared to do it. Of course that girl is good looking 
 with wonderful eyes and black hair but who wants to 
 associate with her ? Mrs. Roth says " 
 
 What Mrs. Roth had said Sarah could supply from 
 her imagination. She went to the store, her brain saying 
 over and over like a worn-out song, " Why did I come 
 here ? They don't want me, they don't want me ! " 
 
 At the store a smile came her way and she was grate- 
 ful for it as a starving child for bread. It came from a 
 little old woman, who spoke atrocious English, but it 
 warmed the heart of the girl. 
 
 " How you like Fairview by now ? Pretty good, ain't ? 
 It is a nice place when you are acquainted around once. 
 How are the old girls to-day, pretty good? Fine girls, 
 they are fine girls ! Here are a few peppermints. I like 
 them still for when I don't feel so right. Mebbe you 
 like them?" 
 
 Sarah accepted the offering in the same spirit in which 
 she knew it was bestowed and some of the weight of
 
 her heart rolled away as she returned to her home. But 
 the burden was too great to be cast off with her cus- 
 tomary Irish cheerfulness. Her heart was suddenly ach- 
 ing as it had not done for years. All the pent up desires 
 for home and family love, denied through the formative 
 years of her life, and thus intensified into an obsession, 
 struggled within her. To be an outcast after all, to have 
 the girls continue passing her, gay, laughing groups, to 
 be shut from pleasures and lose her place at the very 
 moment when it seemed she was coming into her own 
 it was too much for the girl and she ran from the house 
 to find some place where she could cry out all her pain 
 and grief.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 
 
 IN the big lot to the rear of the Burkhart house stood 
 half a dozen cherry trees. Sarah had exclaimed at their 
 mass of blossoms and several times had climbed into one 
 to get closer to their beauty. It was there she ran that 
 hour of her travail. She swung up on a low branch, 
 white as a bridal bower in its mass of flowers, then 
 climbed farther into the white loveliness and buried her 
 face in the cherry blossoms and cried. Great sobs shook 
 her, her breath came in gasping, choking efforts. When 
 the worst agony was over a dull pain still held her. 
 
 " I don't care," she said aloud, " it isn't fair ! Even if 
 I am a reformatory girl and the daughter of a criminal 
 I can be all right. How does any one of these people in 
 Fairview know that I am not fit to associate with them? 
 It isn't fair ! Miss Hughes didn't think I was so dreadful 
 a creature why didn't I stay with her? Here they 
 think I'm bad, bad " 
 
 " Who is this that's bad ? " a strange voice asked and 
 startled the girl so that she almost fell out of the cherry 
 tree. She looked about. Just over the fence in the ad- 
 joining lot stood a young man looking up at her. Then 
 she remembered that Aunt Mary had told her the rector 
 of St. Paul's Episcopal Church lived in the house next 
 door. But surely this young man was too ridiculously 
 young to be rector of a church ! Some visitor probably, 
 and an inquisitive one! He had heard /her cry! Of
 
 166 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 course it would be her luck to have some person see and 
 hear her when she made a baby of herself ! 
 
 " Who are you ? " she demanded crossly. 
 
 At that the young man jumped over the low fence and 
 stood under the tree in which she was perched. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he retaliated. 
 
 She looked at him and found him to be a comely crea- 
 ture, clean, smiling, with kind eyes. Her first impulse 
 to send him away died. 
 
 " Who am I ? " she said. " A dreadful person ! A 
 regular ogress! 'Better go away from me before you 
 become contaminated." 
 
 " As bad as all that?" he asked, his eyes smiling ref- 
 utation of her words. He had nice eyes, she decided, 
 brown, but it was not the color, rather the warm glow in 
 them that held her attention. Could one lie to eyes like 
 that? 
 
 " Yes," she said, suddenly finding the stranger trust- 
 worthy, " the people of Fairview think I'm that and 
 worse ! Guess you heard that Jeremiah's granddaughter 
 came to his house and that her father is in jail and she 
 has been in a reformatory for six years could anything 
 be worse ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know that does sound pretty bad, but 
 then things are not what they seem " 
 
 " Longfellow said that." 
 
 " He did you know that? Who are you to be up in 
 Jeremiah's cherry tree and knowing poetry? You said 
 something about his granddaughter are you that? I 
 didn't know there was such a person. You see I have 
 been out of town for a week and haven't heard the news 
 yet." 
 
 " Then if you like gossip you have a wonderful treat
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 167 
 
 in store for you ! Everybody knows about me, Jeremiah 
 Burkhart's granddaughter." 
 
 " I didn't know there was such a person." 
 
 " Neither did he until last week. I dropped from the 
 skies, and I'm thinking it was his unlucky day." 
 
 " But why all the the 
 
 "The tears?" she helped him. Of course he had 
 heard her cry ! " Oh, I'm sore because I don't fit here 
 and I did so want to." 
 
 " What's to hinder ? Isn't there lots of room in that 
 big house and can't you be a help and comfort to old 
 Jeremiah and his daughters ? " 
 
 " Comfort ! " The girl's clear, rippling laughter rang 
 out and at the sound he started. He had never heard so 
 gay, unaffected a laugh. It was infectious and he heard 
 his own deeper one join it. " Oh, but you're funny ! " 
 she told him. " Comfort ! About as much comfort as 
 sleeping on a bed of tacks, points up, that's what ! No, 
 whoever you are, kind sir, I tell you I'm not in the 
 right place. Somewhere I read a poem once that began 
 like this, ' He drew a circle that shut me out, heretic, 
 rebel, a thing to flout ' I don't know the rest, but I 
 guess that suits me. They think I'm a rebel, heretic and 
 most everything I shouldn't be." A sarcastic note crept 
 into her voice. " The good people of this town are afraid 
 I'll spoil their dear, sweet, lovely sons and daughters and 
 that is why I sit alone in a cherry tree, or work with old- 
 maid aunts, or look at the chickens while the other girls 
 laugh and have a good time. Oh, I'm hurt and mad 
 go on with you and leave me alone ! I want to cry ! " 
 
 " No you don't. You want to come down from that 
 tree and talk to me." 
 
 " With you? I don't ! " she said decidedly.
 
 168 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Please," his voice was coaxing and gentle, " do let's 
 get acquainted." 
 
 Sarah pursed her lips, pondered a moment, then smiled 
 down at him and started to climb from the tree. 
 
 " See, I'm part Irish and when you are kind and good 
 to me I'm just like putty." She gave one leap and stood 
 before him. " Who are you ? " 
 
 " One who is interested in you and wants to help you." 
 
 " Oh, then you are the rector ! " She spoke as though 
 it were an accusation. 
 
 His face flushed at her tone. " Is that so dreadful ? *' 
 he asked. 
 
 " I don't know. I never saw a live rector except in 
 church. Never had one climb over the fence and talk to 
 me while I was up in a cherry tree. But all the preachers 
 I ever heard of want to uplift you and help you no 
 matter whether you want to be helped or not. I hope 
 you're not that kind for I have to live next door to you 
 as long as I stay in Fairview. I'm not looking for good 
 advice, either, for I have enough of that bottled up in 
 my brain to keep a regiment of incorrigibles going for 
 years. Why the I was going to say dickens but I re- 
 membered in time why the Sam Hill doesn't some one 
 tell you preachers that if you'd treat us like human be- 
 ings instead of wooden things to be shaved off here and 
 pared down there to fit your mould you'd have an easier 
 time to reform us ! " 
 
 "You think we fail?" 
 
 " I don't think, I know you do, too often. Every one 
 of the people of Fairview who thinks I'm too bad to 
 associate with their children would be willing to dig 
 after money in their pockets and give to the heathen or 
 any other good purpose, but the heathen in their midst
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 169 
 
 is too much for them. Lordy, I wish they'd seen me six 
 years ago ! " The thought of the ragged little girl who 
 left Red Rose Court sent her into laughter. The rector 
 had again the feeling of being refreshed by the clarity 
 and sincerity of that laughter. " Too bad I didn't come 
 to Fairview when I went to Sunset Mountain ! Bet Mrs. 
 Roth would have hung a smallpox sign on me then! 
 Never mind, I'm not going to mind, at least not show 
 them that I do mind. If I ran away from them they'd 
 be tickled to death so I think I'll stay. I'll get Mrs. 
 Roth's goat yet ! Her Dan looked at me yesterday when 
 I went to the store on an errand for Aunt Mary. You 
 know he works for grandfather. He looks like a simple- 
 ton, but she thinks he's made of gold. Of course he's 
 way above me, but if he weren't working for grandfa- 
 ther I'd have slapped him in the face yesterday for the 
 way he looked at me." 
 
 The man regarded the girl. What manner of young 
 woman was this new neighbor ? "I see," he told her, 
 " you are different from the run of young people but that 
 does not say that you are below them. It may be a very 
 delightful superiority when one comes to know you 
 better. You will surely find a way into the affections 
 of some of the nice girls in town. Wouldn't you like to 
 come to Sunday school " 
 
 '"Et tu, Brutus!'" Then she laughed. "All the 
 missionaries of the town called last week to take me but 
 I declined with thanks." 
 
 " I thought you'd meet the young people that way." 
 
 " I see, your motive is all right." She read in his face 
 a desire to help her feel less keenly the aloofness of the 
 town people. " I will come," she promised, slightly irri- 
 tated to have him think that she needed the Sunday
 
 170 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 school. " I will come and I'll make some of those peo- 
 ple like me. Miss Hughes used to say I have a magnetic 
 personality, but I won't believe it until I get the people 
 to like this ' heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.' You think 
 I'm that, too! I see it in your face. Oh, don't bother 
 denying it, it isn't worth the effort," she said as he would 
 have protested at her uncanny insight into his heart. 
 " I can't blame people, I suppose. I have to prove I'm 
 not what they think." 
 
 "I haven't offended you?" His voice was troubled. 
 Had he bungled in his effort to help the girl? 
 
 " Oh, no. I'm not easily hurt, I wear a pretty stout 
 armor. I don't often let myself go and climb into trees 
 to cry. Pshaw, I wish I knew the rest of that heretic 
 poem ! " 
 
 " I do ' But love and I had the wit to win, we drew a 
 circle that took him in.' " 
 
 She repeated it after him, then gave a soft, " Whew ! 
 Some circle ! But I am going to draw it ! Watch me ! 
 You are the first kind person I met since I came to Fair- 
 view, except Aunt Mary, and the woman at the little 
 store on the corner she doled out peppermints to me 
 one day- and the old man who drives the Transfer 
 why, that isn't so bad after all! I really didn't know I 
 have been the recipient of so much kindness until I 
 stopped to name them all. Guess I'll manage in Fair- 
 view, after all. You bolstered up my wobbly courage 
 and now I feel ready to tackle anything. Aunt Mary 
 is lovely to me, but tell me, did you ever see Aunt Sy- 
 billa laugh ? Honest now ! " 
 
 " Not very often," he admitted, smiling. 
 
 " I knew it. I'm glad for one thing, that the Lord 
 put some Irish into me so I know how to laugh. Is there
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 171 
 
 Irish in you? If we are going to be neighbors and you 
 are going to have a hand in my reform I ought to know 
 your name, I'm thinking." 
 
 " Yes. It's James Snavely." 
 
 " Reverend James Snavely," she repeated. " I like the 
 sound of it. Are you Pennsylvania Dutch but I sup- 
 pose not, for you don't speak like most of them do." 
 
 " I am one," he said it proudly. " I was born on a 
 farm near Fairview, but we moved in to town when I 
 was about twelve and here I spent my days until time 
 to go away to college. I had my course in New En- 
 gland but when I was ready to preach I felt I wanted 
 to come back to my own people, so here I am." 
 
 " I see. Live alone in that big house or have you a 
 wife?" 
 
 " No wife. I have a housekeeper, a very nice old 
 lady, a widow some sixty years old. Her greatest pleas- 
 ure is to spoil me, cook me dishes I like, keep the place 
 like a new pin, just because she used to know my mother 
 and feels sorry for me." 
 
 "Of course," agreed the girl, with a twinkle in her 
 eyes. " She couldn't possibly like you a little bit for your 
 own sake, it's all on account of your mother! But 
 haven't you any aunts or anybody could live with you ? " 
 
 " No, I'm the last of the family. Haven't a relative 
 nearer than third cousins." 
 
 "Ah, I'm sorry." Her words embraced him like a 
 mother's arms. " Then you haven't a home, either ? " 
 
 " I can't say that, exactly." 
 
 " No, you can't, but it's the truth just the same. Living 
 with an old woman to keep house isn't having a real 
 home." 
 
 He frowned at her perspicacity, then changed to a
 
 172 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 smile as he read in her face the sadness she was striving 
 so valiantly to conceal. 
 
 " Are we going to be friends then, companions in 
 exile ? " he asked. 
 
 " Poor homeless creatures," she added. " But you 
 aren't in the same boat with me. You are among the 
 elect while I am in the heretic, rebel class. Oh, I'm glad 
 I met you for now I know the other two lines of that 
 poem." 
 
 " Yes. I am glad I met you for we want to be friends. 
 You must have some good times like other young girls 
 of the town." 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! " She took his hand impulsively, 
 then dropped it, embarrassed. What could she know 
 about etiquette? How could she tell beforehand the thrill 
 that would make her breathless as she touched his hand ? 
 For the first time in her life she was self-conscious and 
 her face flushed with timidity. 
 
 He came to her rescue by taking her right hand and 
 giving it the cordial clasp he gave his church attendants 
 after the service, a rather impersonal yet friendly shake. 
 " We are going to be friends and you are going to be 
 happy ! Just keep on thinking that and it will happen." 
 
 " Laws," she cried, " you sound like Mrs. Maloney. 
 She used to say that if you thought long enough and 
 hard enough about a thing you'd get it if you went after 
 it!" 
 
 " That sounds interesting. Will you tell me about Mrs. 
 Maloney some day?" 
 
 " I'd be glad to. I can tell you lots of things about 
 the slums you never knew and won't believe unless 
 you know I'm a bum liar and take my word for 
 them."
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 173 
 
 "Yes " again the word was drawn into a long 
 
 question. Here was a new aspect on the problem of 
 souls. A child of the slums ready to teach him. How 
 could the girl, attractive, though not beautiful, be a 
 product of the slums? But there was good blood in her 
 veins, perhaps that accounted for it. Circumstances had 
 taken her to the places of squalor and sin but she, surely, 
 was undefiled by contact with them. For all her slang, 
 uncouthness of speech and strange ways of expression 
 she bore evidence of fineness that unhealthful environ- 
 ment could not take from her. She was worthy of ef- 
 forts to help and certainly she had a right to a happy 
 girlhood. 
 
 Aunt Sybilla's voice broke into the revery of the man : 
 
 " Sarah, where in the world did you get to ? " 
 
 The man and girl turned to the house. Aunt Sybilla 
 stood at the kitchen door waiting for them. 
 
 " Sarah, this long time a'ready I called you that it's 
 time to peel potatoes. Next your grandpap will get home 
 and no meal made yet. Howdedo, Mr. Snavely," she 
 greeted her neighbor, " did you get back from your trip? " 
 Her voice was none too cordial. She didn't think much 
 of " them 'Piscopals " and wondered why he wanted to 
 talk with Sarah. 
 
 " Yes, thank you," he answered complacently. " I 
 was getting acquainted with your niece." 
 
 " So. I guess you was surprised too." 
 
 " Greatly. I have been telling her she should come to 
 Sunday school and meet some of the young people of 
 the town then she can have a much better time." 
 
 " Umph," Aunt Sybilla evidently did not agree. " I 
 guess Sarah won't have much time to be runnin' round. 
 It's the idle hands get in mischief."
 
 174 THE MADONNA OF THE CURS 
 
 " Yes," added the girl, " but the busy ones go the fast- 
 est when the devil gets them won over." 
 
 Aunt Sybilla frowned at the mention of the ruler of 
 the lower regions. Her look spoke unmistakably that 
 she thought the girl needed a strong hand over her. 
 Sarah laughed, said good-bye to the neighbor and went 
 in to peel the potatoes while the man vaulted across the 
 hedge that divided the side yards. 
 
 As Sarah worked in the kitchen doing the menial tasks 
 necessary to the preparation of a meal her thoughts were 
 far above such common things as potatoes or ham. 
 Romance burned brightly within her starved heart, some 
 legacy from the Irish actress mother invested every minor 
 shred of it with glory. The meeting with the rector was 
 an event in her life, which however colorful it had been, 
 still lacked the girl and boy romances most people of her 
 age had experienced. During her years of adolescence 
 when thrills and quickening heart beats are a portion of 
 each day Sarah, secluded in the mountain reformatory, 
 had never felt the stirring of girlhood romances save as 
 they came to her through reading the books Miss Hughes 
 had wisely given her Tennyson, Dickens, Riley, and 
 many others which can safely be placed into the hands 
 of receptive youth. Sarah had read and reread them 
 eagerly; her heart sang as she learned the story of the 
 knights or followed the varied experiences of Sydney 
 Carton, Tiny Tim, David Copperfield and a score of 
 other Dickensonian favorites. 'But, after all, that was 
 mere reading, tame and colorless compared with flesh 
 and blood heroes. And the Reverend James Snavely was 
 all that could be desired in the way of a real hero so far 
 as appearance and personality went. Mothers of eligible 
 daughters sighed and manceuvered but so far the rector
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 175 
 
 of St. Paul's had proven impregnable. Courteous, 
 charming, delightfully cordial to all, showing no favorit- 
 ism to any, he went about his work in the little parish. 
 
 James Snavely was, as he had proudly told Sarah, 
 Pennsylvania Dutch, a splendid example of a polished, 
 educated one. But the polish had not marred his genuine, 
 wholesome qualities, it had rather accentuated and in- 
 tensified them, so that all the innate sterling of him shone 
 from his life. But the little town of Fairview gave no 
 special heed to the man. Of course the people respected 
 him and liked him for his smiling, unaffected greetings 
 to them, praised his finest oratorical efforts as " pretty 
 good preachin' " and sometimes wondered why he didn't 
 try to get a church in some city and earn bigger money. 
 That was a natural query for there he might have ex- 
 panded and become a power, but the hold of his own 
 was strong upon him. There was, in his thoughts, no 
 place quite so lovely or desirable as Lancaster County, 
 and there he chose to work in the little parish with a 
 handful of people who liked him. And so, without any 
 of the spectacular about him to force attention, he went 
 about every day doing the work of the parish, reading 
 the prayers, burying the dead, uniting in holy matrimony, 
 serving without any desires for wider spheres, knowing, 
 as would all of his profession might know! that there 
 is no limit to the scope of a man's work, that the results 
 of honest endeavor can and do overflow the bounds of 
 the narrow parish. Like Tennyson's expression of it, 
 " Our echoes roll from soul to soul, and grow forever 
 and forever." 
 
 The Reverend James Snavely had lived most of his 
 boyhood in the same little town where later he came to 
 preach. Perhaps that was a mistake on his part, for
 
 176 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 though familiarity does not always breed contempt it has 
 a strong tendency to lessen proper deference. 
 
 Who in Fairview did not know of the time the young 
 Jimmie Snavely put a tick-tack tfn an old maid's window 
 one merry Hallowe'en and was rewarded by a pitcher of 
 water spilled upon his head? If you chanced to remem- 
 ber that one morning while he was expounding the Gos- 
 pel could you think seriously about sufferings of the 
 Children of Israel? Then there was that oft-repeated 
 story of the incident in High School when some fool 
 question debate, namely, " Resolved that Lincoln was a 
 greater man than Washington," was on in the weekly 
 Literary Society Friday afternoon. Jimmie had heard 
 the pros and cons and mentally thought the pupils were 
 talking through their hats, trying to take lustre from one 
 great man and shine up the other with it when each had 
 all any one man could carry. Then came the moment of 
 general debate and the decisive time when a standing 
 vote was taken. " All those in favor of the affirmative 
 please rise " and some of the scholars scrambled to their 
 feet. " All those in favor of the negative please rise " 
 and the remaining pupils rose, all except Jimmie. He 
 sat tight during both uprisings. The president of the day 
 demanded, " Mr. Snavely, you did not rise for either 
 side. We want to know what you decided." 
 
 Jimmie's answer has been immortalized in Fairview 
 " I decided to set still ! " 
 
 Called to account by an outraged principal he an- 
 swered wisely, " When you can tell me whether man is 
 superior to woman, food more necessary than water, the 
 stars more beautiful than the moon, then I'll tell you 
 jvhether Lincoln was a greater man than Washington." 
 
 The same sane reasoning characterized him when He
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 177 
 
 was grown to manhood. It was to this far-off, seemingly 
 inaccessible star that Sarah Burkhart, the child of Red 
 Rose Court and Sunset Mountain, hitched her little 
 wagon. Here was a man she wanted to know better, 
 coveted for a friend. In that brief interview, uncon- 
 ventional and illuminating, she had been cognizant of a 
 natural, unavoidable prejudice toward her or was it 
 mere wariness? To him, no less than to the others of 
 the town, she was that heretic, rebel, if not a thing to 
 flout, then a person who required changing and improving 
 before meriting close intimacy. She remembered Mrs. 
 Maloney's words that if you wanted a thing hard enough 
 you'd get it if you went after it! Somehow it did not 
 seem preposterous or presuming to covet the friendship 
 of a man like the Reverend Snavely. Perhaps some ap- 
 preciation of her own power and latent possibilities was 
 uppermost in her heart that April day as she worked in 
 the kitchen with the solemn Aunt Sybilla. A bit of 
 Tennyson she loved came to her : 
 
 " I have heard that, somewhere in the main, 
 Fresh-water springs come up through bitter brine." 
 
 Was it ever possible that through the acrid life she had 
 known the sweet waters of love would rise to sweeten her 
 whole being ? 
 
 " Here ! " came her aunt's stern warning, " you peel 
 them potatoes too thick! That ain't no way, throwin' 
 half the good out with the skin. That's how lots of peo- 
 ple do and then they never get nowheres." 
 
 " I'm sorry." 
 
 " Well, don't do it no more. Bein* sorry when it's 
 spoiled won't fix the potatoes."
 
 178 
 
 " No yes I mean I'll be careful." 
 
 The woman looked at her. " What makes you talk so 
 ferhuddled? Anyhow, what was you and that preacher 
 doin', talkin' about in our lot? What did he come over 
 here for?" 
 
 " To see the cherry blossoms, I suppose," was the in- 
 nocent reply. 
 
 " Ach," she gave a disgusted look at the girl. " I 
 guess he could seen them from his side of the fence. I 
 tell you, you better not begin makin' a fuss with him, for 
 his members would hate to have it. He's a preacher and 
 got to be careful how he acts for there are so many al- 
 ways watchin' preachers. Course, he's only a 'Piscopal 
 one and I think still they are like the Catholics, only the 
 name is different." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " protested the girl, but it fell on deaf ears. 
 
 " Mrs. Roth, she goes to that church and she told me 
 a'ready how they do, bowing and gettin' up and down all 
 the time, rutchin' round in church like that ! It wonders 
 me if the 'Piscopal preachers can't make up no prayers 
 or why they always read them out a little book, that 
 ain't the Bible, neither! But then some churches got 
 funny ways. I'm glad ourn hasn't." 
 
 Sarah smiled, thinking how extremely queer and novel 
 the Mennonite service had been to her. It was all a 
 matter of perspective, she told herself. 
 
 " Anyhow," went on the woman, " I don't want you to 
 begin gettin' notions about boys. Mr. Snavely he's a 
 man, lots too old for you, so that don't worry me only 
 what his members would say if they seen you and him 
 together a lot. But boys, like Dan Roth, you better leave 
 them alone. It ain't no good to start anything like that 
 for half the time it brings you trouble."
 
 IN THE CHERRY TREE 179 
 
 " You think," Sarah sang, 
 
 ' ' Men are deceivers ever, 
 One foot on land and one on sea. 
 To one thing constant never.' " 
 
 " Well, I never heard it sang like that but I guess it's 
 not far from true. There ain't many good men like your 
 grandpap no more." 
 
 And the woman sighed and looked so sad that Sarah 
 felt she had a clue to that twenty-year trouble that had 
 soured her. Some love story with an unhappy ending! 
 That was it! Poor Sybilla! She hoped when her love 
 story came it would end, " They lived happy ever after." 

 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 WORK AND PLAY 
 
 WHEN Sarah sat down to her supper that day she was 
 still thinking about her new acquaintance. Then the im- 
 portance of sitting around the table with her own family 
 overshadowed all lesser interests and she gave herself 
 up to the enjoyment of the meal. 
 
 Meal-time in the Burkhart home had been a revelation 
 to the newcomer. Six years in a reformatory where the 
 food was cooked in great quantities and distributed in 
 platefuls had not taught her much about the manner of 
 eating in a private home. Sometimes she had walked 
 with Miss Hughes along the little street at the foot of 
 Sunset Mountain at supper time and seen through the 
 windows of the lighted room a family or two seated 
 round a small table. At such times her heart had ached 
 poignantly. Oh, to be one of the group ! But each time 
 she had gone back to the big dining-room on the hill and 
 taken her place at the long table with twenty-odd other 
 girls. 
 
 The days of sojourn in her new home had brought her 
 many experiences that warmed her heart but none dearer 
 than the half hour spent each meal-time. True, her grand- 
 father and aunts ate in the kitchen instead of using the 
 big dining-room whose corner cupboard with lovely old- 
 fashioned dishes proclaimed it the proper place for the 
 family meals, but the table in the kitchen was always 
 laden with a variety of dishes, made after infallible, 
 ancient Pennsylvania Dutch recipes, that the girl liked
 
 WORK AND PLAY '181 
 
 to hear the call for meals. Then she flattered herself 
 that her presence at the table added life to the party. 
 They needed it badly enough, goodness knows, she told 
 herself. The meals were far too solemn affairs ! Some- 
 times grandfather had some bit of news he had gathered 
 at the store, Aunt Mary found a few pleasant things to 
 recount, and even Aunt Sybilla, under the softening in- 
 fluence of home-made crullers and pie thought of some- 
 thing to say, but there was no sustained conversation 
 unless Sarah took the helm. She would have enjoyed 
 discussing topics of the day but all efforts to do so met 
 with frosty answers from Aunt Sybilla who immediately 
 started to speak about the necessity of buying new sheets. 
 Did Mary know that the towels were down to twenty and 
 that mom always tried to keep two dozen of everything 
 in the house for you never know when there might be 
 sickness or something and you'd hate to have the neigh- 
 bors come in and find you were short on anything. 
 Didn't Mary think they ought to get at making some 
 real soon ? 
 
 After a few days Sarah entered into the spirit of the 
 family and grew to like the homely topics spoken about 
 at the table. Their very prosaicness attracted her and 
 she felt more like one of the family to hear them than if 
 the topic had been a summary of the news in the daily 
 paper. 
 
 That April evening when Aunt Sybilla turned to her 
 and asked, " What do you think of the new coffee ? I 
 got it for only twenty-eight cents at that new cheap store 
 just opened. I think it's as good as the thirty-cent coffee 
 we got so long. What's the use throwin' away two cents 
 every time you buy a pound of coffee if this is just as 
 good!'*
 
 182 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Sarah had a hard time to keep from declaring that the 
 coffee tasted like nectar and ambrosia to her after they 
 had deigned to ask her opinion of it but she merely an- 
 swered, " It's fine, Aunt Sybilla ! But I suppose I'm not 
 much of a judge; any coffee would taste good to me for 
 I never got it on the mountain." 
 
 " What, no coffee ! " The woman looked aghast, some- 
 thing like pity showing in her face at the thought of what 
 she considered the girl's deprivation. " Then I guess you 
 got to do like the hired man mom used to tell about still 
 when he worked any place where they didn't give him 
 coffee at noon he always drank an extra cup at supper 
 to make up for it." 
 
 Sarah laughed. She was beginning to feel more at 
 home with these strange people who were her own. 
 After all, they were good to her, as good as they knew 
 how to be. But her grandfather, how stern he generally 
 looked! Would she ever learn to feel free with him! 
 What a peculiar old man he was ! 
 
 " Sarah." He startled her so she almost spilled her 
 coffee. 
 
 " Yes, sir, I mean what is it, grandfather ? " 
 
 " Ach, you needn't call me nothin' tony like that. Just 
 grandpap will do." 
 
 " Yes, grandpap." 
 
 " Are you good at figgers ? " 
 
 " Yes. The teacher at on the mountain used to say 
 that mathematics was my best work." 
 
 " I mean just plain figgers, like the figgerin' in the 
 books at the store." 
 
 " I think I could do it." 
 
 " Then I wish you'd try it for me. Mebbe you can 
 help us out for a few weeks. Dan Roth across the street
 
 WORK AND PLAY 183 
 
 Is in the office and another man, but he's goin' to Cali- 
 fornia for a few weeks and I need some one to help 
 Dan. We got a few clerks in the store but they'd mess 
 everything up in the office and then I need them behind 
 the counters anyway. Would you like to try it once ? " 
 
 " Oh, grandpap, I'd love to ! Then I'd be able to show 
 you how grateful I am for keeping me 
 
 " That's enough of such dumb talk ! " The old man 
 frowned forbiddingly. " You belong to us ; ain't you 
 Jeremiah's girl ! I'll pay you to help in the store." 
 
 " Oh, no pay ! When you are keeping me " 
 
 " Ain't I told you not to say that ! I guess whoever 
 works for me get some pay for it, relation or no rela- 
 tion." 
 
 " Be sure, yes," agreed Aunt Sybilla. " Pop he 
 wouldn't have no one work for him for nothin'. That's 
 only right." 
 
 Aunt Mary spoke up gently, " You do like your grand- 
 pap says. It will be nice to have you help him then 
 people can see you ain't lazy, that you got some of the 
 good in the family along with the rest now, what a 
 dumb way for talkin', ain't ! But I didn't mean nothin' 
 by it, only I want you to show these people you are all 
 right. Mrs. Roth said this morning ' 
 
 " Mary, Mrs. Roth don't always say what is the truth," 
 her sister warned her. 
 
 " Well, anyhow she got this wrong. She said .she 
 guessed we'd be sorry yet for takin' Sarah in our home. 
 I told her no, never ! " 
 
 " Oh," cried Sarah, " I hate that woman ! She's so 
 sweet to some people and I bet she stings them every 
 time she gets a chance. She's too sweet. Even the Irish 
 don't laugh all the time and smile. Mrs. Maloney used
 
 184 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 to say too much sweet was worse than too much bitter or 
 sour, that it made you sick sooner." 
 
 Grandfather rapped on the plate with his knife. 
 " Here, here, let's talk business instead of pullin' the 
 neighbors to pieces. Will you come to the store to-mor- 
 row morning once, then you can find out what is to do ? " 
 
 "I'll come. Got a cage, grandpap?" she asked face- 
 tiously. 
 
 " What kind of cage ? " he asked, not understanding. 
 
 " For the specimen on exhibition. If I work in that 
 little glass office in the store it will be a fine chance for 
 the town to come in and get a good look at me without 
 appearing to be curious." 
 
 " Ach, I guess not. Anyhow, it's my store and I dare 
 put in it who I want." 
 
 Sarah smiled. She was thinking of what Mrs. Roth 
 would say when she knew that her boy was working in 
 the office with the despised granddaughter of Jeremiah 
 Burkhart. 
 
 Dan Roth was the idol of his mother's heart, and, like 
 many other idols, spoiled, petted and supported until his 
 natural stamina was stultified. Like his mother he looked 
 contemptuously upon the daughter of a convict, but the 
 desire of youth for pleasure kept him from revealing his 
 contempt too plainly. When Sarah came to the office to 
 work with him and was introduced Dan was very cordial. 
 She was, in his eyes, attractive; her manner of carrying 
 her head, chin up, put him on his mettle. By heaven, 
 he'd like to make her drop it a bit ! Dan was an admirer 
 of the fair sex and the fairer they were the better he 
 liked them, and the haughtier they acted the more he 
 prided himself when he won their interest. Then there 
 was a tantalizing winsomeness about the new girl that
 
 WORK AND PLAY 185 
 
 roused his desire to know her better. Here he saw an 
 opportunity to amuse himself, pass the hours in the store 
 more pleasantly, without having any unpleasant scenes 
 after he grew tired of the amusement. True, she was 
 the relative of old man Jeremiah, but doubtless an un- 
 welcome member of the family, and so long as only an 
 innocent flirtation took place no one would call him to 
 account if he did hurt the heart of the girl a bit. Here 
 was a chance to dance without having to pay the fiddler 
 later. For no one would expect a boy like Dan to be 
 seriously interested in a girl who had been in a reform- 
 atory. So Dan Roth was at once pleasant and obliging 
 and so friendly that Sarah at once became suspicious. 
 
 The first noon he walked home from the store with 
 her and they loitered at the Burkhart gate, Sarah hoping 
 Mrs. Roth was peeping at some window and seeing her 
 son and heir wasting time with that dreadful Burkhart 
 girl. Dan was thinking how expressive were the eyes of 
 the girl near him and how merry her laughter. 
 
 After she had eaten she spied him lingering by the 
 gate again so she roguishly slipped down through the 
 back lot, down the alley and reached the store by another 
 route. When he came in, barely on time, she was bent 
 over her books. 
 
 " You " he faced her angrily, " how did you get 
 here?" 
 
 " Walked, of course. Did you think I hired a taxi ? " 
 
 " Come off, now, don't put on airs with me. Let's be 
 friends," he coaxed. " I want you to meet some of the 
 crowd and have fun. This is a dead dry town but we 
 manage to have some good times in it. Another young 
 person and a charming one at that, will be a valuable 
 asset."
 
 186 THE MADONNA OF THE CURfi 
 
 " Asset," she laughed. " Much you know about 
 banking terms if you call me that. Go on, you're 
 fooling. I'm part Irish and I can tell blarney every 
 time and can outblarney anybody, so don't try that with 
 me." 
 
 " I mean it. I do want to be friends." 
 
 " Well, I'll think about it." 
 
 Dan mentally said, " Darn her, wonder who she thinks 
 she is ! " [But aloud he repeated his desire to become 
 friends. He gained no promise from her. " Go on, and 
 let me do my work," she told him. " My grandfather 
 isn't paying either of us to be galavanting." 
 
 True to her promise Sarah went to Sunday school the 
 next week. She was placed in a class of young ladies 
 about her own age, who smiled dutifully then ignored her. 
 It was a new experience for Sarah. She liked the music 
 and the beginning of the lesson talk by a woman who 
 was educated and seemed to know her subject, but the 
 new girl soon fell to comparing her clothes with those of 
 the other girls and the process hurt. Of course Miss 
 Hughes had outfitted her wonderfully well for a reforma- 
 tory girl, a city charge, but those silk dresses the other 
 girls wore made her envious. She saw how limited was 
 her wardrobe and while the teacher went on eloquently 
 expounding the lesson of Daniel and the lions Sarah sat 
 with rapt attention on her own thoughts how far her 
 money would go toward the purchase of pretty clothes! 
 Grandfather promised to pay her for the work at the 
 store and she'd buy first a new hat; hers was a sight! 
 Then she did want a pair of white kid gloves, had always 
 wanted them since her first sight of them on the hands of 
 others. If she ever earned enough money she'd have a 
 silk dress and satisfy the long craving of her soul. After
 
 WORK AND PLAY 187 
 
 her work at the store was finished she'd try to find some- 
 thing else to do in Fairview and earn money for clothes 
 like the other girls wore. Of course she couldn't expect 
 her people to dress her like that ! 
 
 The teacher's pleased, " You are a very attentive 
 scholar, Miss Burkhart," made the girl say to herself^ 
 " Sarah, you're a darned hypocrite ! " 
 
 She smiled her sweetest at the thought and several of 
 the girls grudgingly admitted to themselves that she was 
 real attractive when she smiled; if only she were the right 
 sort she might be lots of fun to know. One girl, less 
 subservient to opinion or dictates of her elders, Mary 
 Becker, was openly friendly to the new member of the 
 class. She could afford to be. Her father was president 
 of the bank, her mother head of the town aristocracy, 
 her brother one of the town physicians and Mary her- 
 self a student at Vassar and accustomed to take the law 
 into her own hands on many occasions. Oh, Mary might 
 defy parental instructions and still lose no prestige; her 
 family was too firmly established at the top. But the 
 other girls of the class were not so cordial. True, some 
 of them shook hands with Sarah and said they hoped 
 she could come every Sunday, but she saw they did not 
 really want to say it, knowing how wicked it was to lie. 
 She felt herself accepted on sufferance. One by one they 
 drifted away after the session, started off down the street 
 in happy groups and Sarah walked alone to her home. 
 A grim determination rose in her. She would make them 
 like her. She could give as clever answers to the ques- 
 tions as those girls why some of them knew lots less 
 than she ! She would prove to them that even if she was 
 reared in an atmosphere totally diverse from that in 
 which they had basked during childhood she was just as
 
 188 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB; 
 
 human, lovable, tender as they, and not one whit less 
 worthy the friendship of noble persons. 
 
 " I'll make them love me yet ! " she determined. " I'll 
 go to that Sunday school every week and enter into 
 their affairs until I can't be ignored." 
 
 For several weeks there was no appreciable increase in 
 warmth in the manners of the other girls of the class to 
 the newcomer. Neither did any young people of the 
 town call or pay any attention to the girl at Jeremiah 
 Burkhart's house. Only Dan Roth showed any desire to 
 be friendly and she kept him at arm's length, so that he 
 said frequently, " Darn her, wonder who she thinks she 
 is ! " She refused his invitations to go for ice-cream at 
 the drug store or to walk about the town on a fine April 
 evening. " I'm keeping Lent," she told him, " and de- 
 prive myself of all such pleasures." But he knew she 
 was making sport of him. 
 
 Easter came late that year. Jeremiah Burkhart paid 
 his help every week so just before Easter he handed 
 Sarah ten dollars. " Your pay up to Easter, thought you 
 might like it to spend some. I'll pay you more if you 
 stay and earn more." 
 
 " Grandpap, the first money I ever earned ! It's really 
 mine ? " 
 
 " You earned it," he said matter-of-factly. 
 
 " I may spend it ? " 
 
 " Folks generally dare spend their own money." But 
 his eyes smiled as he looked into the eager face of the 
 girl. Perhaps some memory of the days when his wife 
 had been young like that stirred in him. " You just do 
 what you want with it," he told her kindly. 
 
 Sarah wished he would pat her head or kiss her or do 
 something to show he liked her. But he was parsimoni-
 
 WORK AND PLAY 189 
 
 busiy chary with demonstrations of affection and Sarah 
 had to be satisfied with the smile. 
 
 " Look, Aunt Mary, Aunt Sybilla," she cried as she 
 ran to the kitchen, " this is what grandpap gave me and 
 he says I may spend it if I want." 
 
 " Now," spoke up Sybilla the practical, " if I was you 
 I'd put it to bank till you got more then take out a 
 certificate and draw interest every year and that way you 
 can get a nice nest-egg together." 
 
 " No," protested the girl. " I am going to spend it. I 
 want a new hat and I've longed for white kid gloves till 
 it hurt." 
 
 " White kid gloves, like a pall-bearer, eh ? You needn't 
 spend no ten dollars for a hat and them silly gloves ! " 
 Such extravagance was almost criminal, thought Sybilla. 
 If the girl was going to be improvident it would take a 
 lot of money to keep her. 
 
 Aunt Mary intervened. " Sybilla, let the girl do what 
 she wants with the money. She worked for it. She 
 ain't young more than once and if she wants a new hat 
 and gloves " 
 
 " Well, I'll ask pop to-night if she dare spend money 
 so, go on like she had a barrel of it." 
 
 But Sarah was determined and decided to avoid further 
 controversy by spending the ten dollars at once. She 
 went straight to the little millinery shop up town, tried 
 on ten hats and bought the first one she had tried on, then 
 she marched to another store and bought her first pair 
 of white gloves. Her blue serge suit was good; if she 
 brushed it and laundered the white voile waist she would 
 have an Easter outfit far grander than any she had had 
 hitherto. 
 
 Her dream of an Easter basket in a real home, dyeing
 
 eggs and hiding them, seemed doomed to non-fulfilment. 
 Saturday noon came and no sign of eggs had she seen. 
 
 " You know," she told the aunts as they cleared away 
 the dinner dishes, " I have no work at the store this 
 afternoon and I'd dye a few eggs if I knew how." 
 
 " Dye eggs on a Saturday when the kitchen is 
 cleaned ! " Aunt Sybilla disapproved. " That's a dumb 
 notion, to smear round with dye and then afterward you 
 can't hardly eat the eggs for the dye gets in and colors 
 the white. Mebbe you'd be poisoned yet." 
 
 " Mebbe we could fix some like mom used to do for 
 us, Sarah," Aunt Mary suggested. " With onion skins 
 and calico." 
 
 " Well, I got to go up town and if you want to make 
 such a mess be sure to clean up after." And Sybilla left 
 the two foolish persons alone in the kitchen. 
 
 " Are we really going to dye eggs ? " asked Sarah. 
 
 " Be sure yes, if you want to. I ain't done it in years. 
 Run up to the back room and get the patch bag and I'll 
 get things ready. Oh, and fetch some big onions from 
 the garret, some with nice brown skins." 
 
 Sarah flew up the stairs, a blessed feeling of belonging 
 to Aunt Mary racing with her. She gathered up some 
 onions in her skirt, lugged the heavy patch bag down the 
 stairs, panting, " Oh, this is more fun than a circus." 
 
 She watched and helped the aunt as the onion skins 
 were put on to boil and the eggs dipped in the colored 
 liquid. " Oh, aren't they pretty ! " She was pleased as 
 a little child. 
 
 " You just wait once till you see them dyed in the 
 calico ! " 
 
 Sarah watched the woman as she selected scraps of 
 bright goods, crimson with yellow sprigs, yellow with
 
 WORK AND PLAY 191 
 
 maroon figures, vivid greens, gay blues, and then in every 
 scrap was tied an egg and the whole placed into boiling 
 water and left to bubble away on the stove. When the 
 eggs were removed from the calico the pattern and color 
 of the goods was left upon them. 
 
 Sarah squealed with delight. " Who ever would think 
 of that ! " 
 
 The eggs were all rubbed with lard to make them 
 glossy and then laid in a dish, ready for the morrow. 
 
 When Sybilla came home she found the kitchen in 
 order and the finished eggs on the table. " Um, got done 
 soon. But it wonders me that a big girl like you wants 
 to do such baby things. Why, you are too big for such 
 foolishness." 
 
 The girl's eyes filled. " I never had them when I was 
 the proper age for them. I wanted to know just once 
 how it felt to color Easter eggs and hunt for an Easter 
 basket in the morning. I guess I am too old. I won't 
 want to do it next year, but this once was fun." 
 
 Aunt Mary wiped her eyes on her apron and mentally 
 vowed that the girl should have her Easter nest in the 
 morning. So when Sarah awoke on the first Easter in 
 her own home and went down-stairs she was greeted 
 with, " Now hunt your nest." 
 
 " Oh, really ? Did you fix one for me ? " 
 
 " Yes, but you got to find it." 
 
 Sarah began the search, having much fun and laugh- 
 ing often as the most likely places proved false alarms. 
 At last she found it under the kitchen table in an old- 
 fashioned brown basket Aunt Mary had brought from 
 the attic. Scraps of bright tissue paper lined it and upon 
 them were the lovely calico and onion eggs and a few 
 chocolate ones Aunt Mary had bought.
 
 192 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Sarah ran to her and throwing an arm about her neck, 
 kissed her warmly on the cheek. Then she looked 
 abashed at her own boldness but the woman laughed. 
 " You dare do that whenever you want, Sarah. I like 
 you and I wish I could give you everything you didn't 
 get when you was little." 
 
 " Oh, you dear ! " cried the girl, but further expres- 
 sions of understanding were cut off by the appearance of 
 Jeremiah Burkhart. 
 
 "What's all the racket about?" he asked rather 
 sternly. " I heard Sarah laugh before I got up a'ready." 
 
 " Oh, grandpap," she held out her basket, " see what 
 Aunt Mary fixed for me ! " 
 
 " Well, that ain't nothin' to make so much fuss about. 
 It's Sunday," he added in a tone of reproof. 
 
 " Yes," the girl said, " Sunday and Easter and if ever 
 there was a day to be glad on it's this one ! " 
 
 Such rank opposition and defiance left the man speech- 
 less. He wondered again, what manner of girl was this ? 
 Would she ever grow into the mould he thought she 
 would have to fit? 
 
 The rebuff of the man left Sarah subdued. After all, 
 he was right, Easter baskets were for children. No 
 amount of them could make up to her the lack of them 
 when they were due her. 
 
 That Easter was an ideal day, greatly to the delight of 
 the young girls who had beautiful silk dresses to initiate. 
 
 Sarah donned her blue suit, the white waist, freshly 
 ironed, pulled the new hat at the right angle on her black 
 hair, pinned to her coat a bunch of fragrant white violets 
 Aunt Mary had allowed her to pick from the grassy place 
 in the yard where they were abundant, then she was 
 ready for church.
 
 WORK AND PLAY 193 
 
 Easter in the Episcopal Church brings a beautiful, in- 
 spiring service. The scent of lilies was heavy in the little 
 church of St. Paul. The soft bustle of arriving attend- 
 ants, the whispers, and then the processional, the music 
 and the measured march of the choir boys. She thought 
 she had never heard anything more beautiful than the 
 tenor solo, " Open the Gates of the Temple." At the 
 words, " I know that my Redeemer liveth, and because 
 He lives I too shall live," her heart throbbed in answering 
 faith. Oh, it was wonderful to be in that church on that 
 day ! She looked at the colored windows, turned to lis- 
 ten to the words of the Reverend Snavely as he told the 
 Easter story, and suddenly, as the passage of a bird, there 
 stole into her heart a feeling of unhappiness her father 
 in what dark corner was he languishing that bright 
 day? What songs of hope was he hearing? Oh, to have 
 him with her in that church! She resolved to speak to 
 her grandfather about him, though he had forbidden her 
 to mention the name of the one who was paying the 
 penalty of his misdeeds. 
 
 After the service the rector shook hands with her, sev- 
 eral others spoke to her, but she had no mind then for the 
 likes or dislikes of the Fairview people. Her whole 
 thought was of her father and what she was going to say 
 about him to her grandfather. 
 
 Her grandfather had already returned from the service 
 in the Mennonite Church and sat on the back porch while 
 the aunts prepared the dinner. 
 
 It was almost May. A few lingering cherry blossoms 
 still made white splashes on the trees, apple buds showed 
 pink on the big tree in the yard, where a provident robin 
 was already building his nest on a broad crotch. Grand- 
 father seemed to be watching the bird who, knowing
 
 194 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 no Sabbath, was carrying threads and grass to the 
 tree. 
 
 " Grandpap ! " The girl sat beside him. 
 
 " Well, I see you got your finery on. Worked almost 
 two weeks for it and spent it all in ten minutes, eh ? " he 
 said, not unkindly. 
 
 " Yes but, grandpap, I want to talk to you. You told 
 me never to bring it up again when you are here but I 
 must ! It's about father " 
 
 " I told you " 
 
 " I must, grandpap." Her distress was so evident that 
 he suffered her to go on. " Won't you forgive him ? 
 Won't you tell him you do? Think of him in that awful 
 place and we here in this yard." 
 
 " Sarah, the Book says that what a man sows he must 
 reap." 
 
 " I know. But it says more. I heard it this morning. 
 You know the Lord's Prayer. It says, ' Forgive us our 
 trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.' 
 If God took us at our word when we say that we'd have 
 a pretty hard time, all of us, wouldn't we, grandpap ? " 
 
 " Eh ? What do you mean ? You mean I ain't done 
 right by the boy? I trained him right and tried to make 
 a good man out him but he went his way and what he got 
 is what he earned." 
 
 " But, grandpap, don't you ever stop to think that even 
 if he does deserve all he is getting how dreadful it must 
 be for him ? How he must feel sorry about it and wish he 
 had done as you tried to teach him, stick to the honest 
 way. They said the Apostles' Creed in church to-day 
 guess you know it too. When they came to that part, ' I 
 believe in the forgiveness of sins,' I wondered how many 
 really acted as if they do believe that. Oh, they believe
 
 WORK AND PLAY 195 
 
 in the forgiveness of their sins, but what about the sins of 
 others ? Father will be out of that place in a few years 
 and then I want him to be with me and I want to be with 
 you, and how are we going to fix it if you won't make up 
 with him ? " 
 
 " We'll cross our bridges when we come to them," said 
 the old man, but there were smouldering fires in his eyes 
 the girl had never seen there before. She hoped she had 
 touched some chord of responsiveness in his heart. But 
 he sat, chin resting on his cane, his eyes hidden from the 
 girl. Aunt Sybilla came then to call her to change her 
 dress and help dish the dinner and the matter of her fa- 
 ther was dropped. Her heart was heavy. After all, she 
 found, what availed a new hat and coveted white gloves 
 if the heart was heavy ? She had learned the first step in 
 the appreciation of the littleness of things. Things 
 what joy would diamonds, silk dresses, all purchasable 
 things bring her when her spirit was troubled ! It was an 
 hour of deep discernment and education, but an unhappy 
 one. 
 
 During the days that followed Jeremiah Burkhart did 
 not refer to the forbidden subject of the criminal. His 
 face was set and stern, as though he were wearing a mask 
 to hide his real feeling. So far as he was concerned it 
 was once more a closed matter, requiring no further ac- 
 tion or discussion. The girl wondered if his heart was 
 still as hard to his son, whether he could much longer ig- 
 nore the very existence of him. But she forbore to ques- 
 tion him. Every day she went to the office and in her 
 work there she greatly pleased her grandfather, who 
 frankly told her as he would have been equally frank to 
 find fault if that had been necessary. 
 
 So the days passed in the new home. After store
 
 .196 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 hours Sarah helped her aunts in the house, sometimes in 
 the garden. Her love of optimistic poetry helped her 
 through some days that had else been dreary. Her Irish 
 strain showed her the funny, glad side to everything, so 
 that to all appearances she was happy. At least, she told 
 herself, she was learning lots of things. And she was, 
 adding new circles of growth like the exogenous rings of 
 a tree. 
 
 Quite by accident she stumbled upon the mystery of 
 Aunt Sybilla's twenty-year trouble. One evening at sup- 
 per she said, " Oh, I met the nicest man in the store to- 
 day. He came to me and asked, 'Are you Jeremiah's 
 granddaughter ? ' and when I told him I had that honor 
 he looked me over, put out his hand, and said he'd like to 
 shake hands with me, that he knew my father and liked 
 him and felt so sorry things had happened the way they 
 did. I couldn't feel hurt because he was so fatherly about 
 it. He's the nicest man I met in a long while." 
 
 " Yes ? Who was he ? " asked Aunt Mary. 
 
 " He said his name is Jake Herr " 
 
 At the words her grandfather looked up, Mary uttered 
 a soft, " Sh ! " and the girl glanced at Aunt Sybilla her 
 face was pale. There was the secret of the long-standing 
 trouble, Sarah knew. So it was that nice man had 
 broken the heart of Aunt Sybilla she could scarcely 
 credit it. 
 
 Sarah tactfully changed the subject of conversation but 
 the thing lingered in her mind. She was relieved that 
 evening when Aunt Mary came into her room and offered 
 explanations. 
 
 " I guess you thought we acted funny at the table when 
 you said that about Jake Herr, but I'll tell you about it. 
 You guess there's something and it's better to know than
 
 WORK AND PLAY 197 
 
 to guess. Sybilla and Jake was goin' to marry once when 
 she was a girl. He was a nice boy, worked on his pop's 
 farm and we thought he would make her a good man. 
 He saved his money and bought a little place out from the 
 town for him and Sybilla to go to farmin'. Well, one 
 thing Sybilla was set against was drinkin'. She used to 
 say when she was just little that she'd never marry a man 
 who drank. A month before they was to be married 
 Jake got drunk and somebody came and told her. She 
 asked him and he said it was so, but that he wouldn't do 
 it again. But that settled it for Sybilla. She felt she 
 could never trust him after that and they didn't get mar- 
 ried. Sybilla never forgave him, said he ruined her life, 
 made her so she'd never believe any man except pop. 
 Everybody said Jake would go to the bad then for sure 
 but he didn't. He got his sister to come keep house for 
 him, he run the farm and hasn't been drunk since that 
 anybody knows. He first used to try to get her to for- 
 give him and make up so they would marry, but she acted 
 so funny to him that he give up trying that. Now they 
 don't look at each other when they get to the same Meet- 
 ing House, and if anybody says his name it hurts her. 
 She won't ever get over it, I guess, but sometimes I have 
 to pity Jake, for I think he would made her a good hus- 
 band. Sybilla and pop are alike in that, they find it so 
 hard to forgive when somebody does something to them. 
 Poor Jake is still workin' his farm and keepin* sober, and 
 I wonder sometimes if he still thinks she might look at 
 him again some day. 'But I guess she's been carry in' her 
 trouble too long to do that. It's too bad, now, when 
 people make such a mixup of their life, ain't? " 
 
 " Yes, I think Aunt Sybilla is foolish. If the man has 
 proved he is over that and still likes her oh, I think she
 
 198 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 is mighty foolish! But I suppose she has carried her 
 trouble so long that she wouldn't be happy without it." 
 
 "Ach what? That's a funny way to put it, but now, 
 mebbe for all, it might be true. Only never say nothin' 
 about Jake when she is here or tell her I told you, for she 
 would be put out." 
 
 The discovered romance of the grim old aunt veiled 
 her in a new interest to Sarah. So that was what she 
 had read about disappointed in love! How dreadful! 
 Did it leave its marks on everybody as it had on Aunt 
 Sybilla? She would try to be more companionable with 
 the aunt since she knew the sorrow of her heart. 
 
 "Aunt Sybilla," she asked her one day, " where did you 
 get your name ? Were you named for anybody ? I never 
 heard it before." 
 
 " No ? Well, I guess there's more things you never 
 heard of. But me, I was named out the Almanac." 
 
 " The Almanac ! " Here was something new. 
 
 " Ach, yes, didn't you never hear about that? Lots of 
 us Pennsylvania Dutch get named that way. When 
 there's a new baby they look up that date in the Almanac 
 and if the name that's long side the date is one that suits 
 they give it to the baby. I know lots of people named 
 like that. There's Cletus Longenecker, Sabina Miller, 
 Donatus Hilton, and me. I was born on April 29. 
 Wait once." She brought the Almanac as evidence. 
 " See, here it is, April 29, Sybilla." 
 
 Sarah looked over the pages of the Agricultural Al- 
 manac, the infallible friend of the Pennsylvania Dutch, 
 many of whom still cling to the ways of their parents and 
 plant their gardens, pickle their beets, make their sauer- 
 kraut, slip their geraniums, by the signs of the Almanac 
 depicted in drawing and explained in words.
 
 WORK AND PLAY 199 
 
 " Oh, what queer names ! " exclaimed the girl. "Aunt 
 Sybilla, just suppose you had been born January 4, then 
 you'd be named Methusalem! Or on February 10 and 
 you'd gotten Scholastica, or April 15 would have brought 
 you Olympia." 
 
 "Ach, that's too dumb to talk of. I guess then they'd 
 called me Lizzie or Katie or some such nice name. I 
 don't like fancy names. I think sometimes mine is a 
 little too fancy. I like plain ones like the dresses I 
 wear." 
 
 " Yes you like to wear those plain clothes ? " Sarah 
 felt bold in asking but she had often wondered whether 
 the women who were garbed in the severely plain dresses 
 really enjoyed life in them. They appeared to. 
 
 " Me ? Well, I guess I do ! I wouldn't wear none of 
 them fussy dresses for nothin'! Me and Mary both 
 started plain when we was young, before the vanities of 
 the world got a good hold on us. It saves wonderful 
 much, too; for we can wear the same style one year after 
 another. Mom was plain too." 
 
 " I see." Sarah felt a reverence as she thought of the 
 sweet woman her father had called " The sweetest 
 woman, the dearest mother in the world." Of course 
 there must be some peace afforded to the wearers of the 
 plain garb, some secret calm and satisfaction that fol- 
 lowers after the styles of the world could not know. 
 
 She changed the subject. "Aunt Sybilla, don't you 
 ever think the Pennsylvania Dutch say funny things ? " 
 
 " No, be sure not. What's funny about the way we 
 talk ? Guess it ain't different from the way you do." 
 
 " Sometimes it is. I went to the store the other day 
 and the old woman said, ' I guess Fairview gives a city 
 soon with so many new houses goin' up.' "
 
 "Well, what's funny about that? Guess it will soon 
 give a city." 
 
 " Oh, nothing," said Sarah, hiding a smile. " I guess 
 it must be myself that's funny. I can laugh at nothing, 
 you know. A woman came in the store then and told 
 about the trip she and her husband took last winter and 
 it was so cold in the train that he ' walked the car up and 
 down to keep warm.' " 
 
 " You think that's funny? " Aunt Sybilla failed to see 
 the humor of it. 
 
 " No, but I bet he kept warm all right." Sarah's face 
 dimpled. 
 
 "Ach, I guess that was old Bevy Warner ; she and her 
 man goes away in all kinds of weather still. She's dumb, 
 so dumb as Brenner's bull." 
 
 " How dumb was he ? " 
 
 " So dumb he waded through the crick to get a drink 
 of water ! " 
 
 A gay peal of laughter rang out and Aunt Sybilla irre- 
 sistibly joined in it. " You stop now," she ordered, 
 " next with your dumb laughin' all the time you make me 
 get like you, laughin' at nothin'." 
 
 " Oh, if I could ! " Sarah clapped her hands. 
 
 "Well, I guess not! I don't want to get that way. 
 You behave yourself now." 
 
 Verily the girl was a changeling, but her infectious 
 laugh soon came to be an accepted thing in the old house 
 and if it had become silent the three older people would 
 have wondered at the quiet. Sarah was becoming accli- 
 mated to Fairview. What though the young people, with 
 the exception of Mary Becker, seldom looked her way 
 when she was looking theirs, the children of the street 
 answered her smiles and ran beside her as she went to
 
 WORK AND PLAY 201 
 
 and fro. She could bide her time and, like the patient 
 man in Riley's poem, all things would come to her some 
 day. 
 
 The friendship with the rector next door progressed 
 slowly. Several times in as many weeks they exchanged 
 commonplace remarks over the back fence. " That 
 friendship he talked about moves about as fast as a 
 glacier," she thought, " but small favors are gratefully 
 received by the needy so I should be satisfied. I don't 
 wonder he balks at intimacy with the daughter of a con- 
 vict and all the rest of my pedigree. I can't expect him 
 to swallow all that at one gulp and look pleasant during 
 the ordeal. But life is moving. I have a home and fam- 
 ily and I could be as happy as an ant in a sugar barrel if 
 it were not for poor father. Guess I'll write to him for 
 that seems to be all I can do for him at present."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 You see by the heading that I'm in Fairview! 
 Wish I could tell you just what that means to me after 
 all those years of wondering who and where my people 
 are. Of course they were surprised to see me, for they 
 did not know I was on the face of the earth. Aunt Mary 
 is the dearest body ! I look at her and like to remember 
 you told me your mother, my grandmother, was like that. 
 But grandfather scares me a little; he's so sober and 
 quiet. I never met any one like him. No longer can I 
 boast, " I ain't afraid of nobody nor nothing but snakes," 
 for I am sometimes afraid of Jeremiah Burkhart ! 
 
 The first day I was there a neighbor came in to see 
 who the company might be. It was can you guess who ? 
 Mrs. Roth! She said she went to school with you. 
 I'd like to bet she tattled even then. She's a gossip, the 
 kind tells you a lurid tale about somebody and follows it 
 up with, " But don't repeat it." No, of course you are 
 not to repeat it, let her do it ! She has the loveliest time 
 going from house to house gathering and dispensing news 
 for, as Miss Hughes says, "A dog that'll fetch a bone will 
 carry one away." I dare say nobody escapes the tongue 
 of Mary Ann Roth. There's a son, too, who works in 
 grandfather's store. The only thing his head is fit for 
 is to use for a hat-rack. He thought he could have some 
 fun with me and make a fool out of Sarah 'Burkhart. 
 I'm like Mrs. Maloney; she used to say that as long as
 
 LETTERS 200 
 
 the Lord didn't make a fool out of her she'd be hanged if 
 she'd let any one else do it. 
 
 I guess you remember how lovely the old house is. 
 Oh, father, if you could be here it would be glorious! 
 The big rooms and everything clean and sweet! Aunt 
 Sybilla and Aunt Mary are wonderful housekeepers. I 
 believe most of these funny people called Pennsylvania 
 Dutch are. All the yards and porches and what I can see 
 of their houses look neat as a new pin. Do you remem- 
 ber the cherry trees in the lot? But perhaps these are 
 new ones. At any rate, they are blooming now and if 
 Japan has anything prettier in the way of cherry blos- 
 soms you'd have to take me over to prove it. I climb up 
 and sit there and just laugh because I'm so glad cherries 
 have to bloom before they can be cherries ! Aunt Sybilla 
 works in the garden a lot and when I told her I like to do 
 it she seemed pleased. She gave me a hoe and so forth 
 and I have had plenty chance to dig and weed. 
 
 I certainly am glad you told me who my people are. 
 Now I feel I belong to somebody. Aunt Mary says she 
 is glad, too, but the other two haven't expressed any such 
 feeling as yet! Bet they do notice the presence of a 
 lively young person about the house, though. I am that, 
 for I 'can't easily be anything else. I break into some 
 kind of noise about every five minutes. One of my nice 
 habits is singing. I think Aunt Sybilla got nervous at 
 first when I washed the dishes to the tune of Killarney 
 or sang Macushla when I swept the kitchen, but I pre- 
 tended not to see her frowns and kept right on. Now I 
 bet she'd miss my warbling if I should stop. She never 
 sings, at least not when I can hear it. Guess she must be 
 the kind that will die with all her music in her alas! 
 Now if she had to boil the breakfast eggs she wouldn't
 
 204 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 sing, " Onward, Christian Soldiers," one verse for soft 
 and two for hard ! Her chant would probably be : 
 
 " A-a f ew-oo-oo more ye-ye-ars shall ro-11, 
 
 A-a f ew-oo-oo more sea-ea-ea-sons come, 
 And we-e-e shall be-e-e with-th those that re-st 
 A-a-sle-e-ep with-in the tomb." 
 
 By the time that verse would be half sung the eggs would 
 be hard ! 
 
 I am not making fun of the way she'd sing, for I can't 
 sing a little bit, I just bubble over like a teakettle, but it 
 makes me feel better clean through. Then I laugh a lot. 
 There is something funny everywhere to laugh about, it 
 strikes me. One Sunday in Mennonite Church I got to 
 thinking what a funny thing a handkerchief was, and I 
 started to laugh. When I told Aunt Sybilla after we got 
 home she couldn't see why that made me laugh. I rather 
 suspect she thought I had a screw loose. If ever I make 
 her laugh, a loud, merry laugh, I'll chalk it in the chim- 
 ney. One day when it rained I sang and she asked me 
 what in the world I could find to sing about on a rainy 
 day. I said I had some robin in me. But the words of 
 the song did not please her. It was that pretty one about, 
 " It is not raining rain to me, it's raining daffodils." She 
 wanted to know what dumb talk that was, how could it 
 rain daffodils? When I said it was just a poet's imagina- 
 tion she informed me that her granny knew as much as 
 that poet then, for she remembered how that old lady had 
 said, when it rained after a dry spell in summer, that it 
 was raining potatoes or corn. Aunt Sybilla has little re- 
 spect for poets, but she is funny at times, more so because 
 she has no idea she is funny. 
 
 Between this letter and the next you can imagine how
 
 LETTERS 205 
 
 busy and interested I am in exploring my new home and 
 learning to know my relatives. I must write to Miss 
 Hughes and tell her all about it. She has been so good 
 to me that even if I do find and like loads of relatives in 
 the years to come I shall never forget her. Only for her 
 my aunts would have a far worse specimen of humanity 
 to reform in Sarah Burkhart. I feel sorry enough for 
 them as it is; it must be an ordeal to think you have a 
 quiet tomb-like house and then have a young girl come 
 whirling in to stay. For me it's all gold and silver with 
 rainbow round the edges ; that's the Irish in me ; I can see 
 the rainbow every time. 
 
 You wrote once that you felt guilty because you took 
 me to Red Rose Court, but I can forgive you anything, 
 father, because you gave me an Irish mother ! 
 
 With love, 
 
 SARAH. 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 I was up in the attic to-day such a place ! I im- 
 agined I felt the ghosts of many dead generations brush 
 against me as I stood under the brown rafters, taking 
 care, however, that my head didn't bump the ceiling ! I 
 had no idea an attic was half so romantic and spooky 
 and nice ! It gave me crawls along my spine and shivers 
 in my shoes. I saw the spinning wheel that some grand- 
 mother, with I don't know how many greats added, used to 
 spin the flax she herself had helped to plant and get ready 
 for the wheel. I felt as though I were back in history to 
 the Thirteen Original Colonies all in one minute. Then 
 I looked around and found a copper kettle, a mold for 
 making candles, a quilting frame, a hanging bric-a-brac 
 shelf made of spools and a few little boards. How that 
 ever escaped from the parlor I can't see. Isn't an attic a
 
 206 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 most exciting place ! But I wasn't sent up to investigate 
 or enjoy it. Aunt Sybilla sent me there to get some home- 
 made soap from a box covered with a heavy board. The 
 first box I looked into was the wrong one but I am glad, 
 for thereby I found some old pictures I treasure. I stole 
 them, took them for my own, for they are pictures of you 
 when you were a boy. When I looked through the red 
 plush album that is set on an easel on the marble-top 
 parlor table, I wondered whether there were no pictures 
 of you. You can imagine how pleased I was to find some 
 in that box in the attic. One was a woman, sweet like 
 Aunt Mary, with a little boy by her side; the other 
 showed the same boy a few years older, standing by a 
 fancy gate holding a big hoop in his hand. They must 
 have been you when you were little. So I salved my 
 conscience by thinking nobody had a better right to them 
 than I, and here they are in my room. At night when the 
 door is shut and nobody can see, I take them out of my 
 bureau drawer and stand them on the top of it. You 
 were such a dear little fellow ! Those pictures make me 
 sad but glad at the same time. 
 
 Here's some pleasant news- I'm working in the store 
 office for grandfather. If I were getting a thousand a 
 month for being secretary to some millionaire I couldn't 
 be gladder than I am here. I am really earning money. 
 Grandfather says I'm doing well and he is paying me for 
 the work after giving me a home. He does have a fine 
 sense of honor. If only you two had understood each 
 other better years ago but what's the use of a post- 
 mortem now? 
 
 The people of Fairview are having the time of their 
 lives this week. Everybody in the town seems to need 
 nails, putty or paint. Bet there won't be an unpainted
 
 LETTERS 207 
 
 porch or a loose board in the whole town. Of all the 
 customers in that store since I am working in that glass 
 office ! One old man who owed a bill for five years came 
 in and asked me how much it was. He paid it, two dol- 
 lars and ten cents, and he acted like he thought it was 
 worth it to have a good look at the girl who had such a 
 strange record. If grandfather charged admission he'd 
 make enough to retire in a week more. But I should 
 worry; if I'm good advertisement for the store then at 
 least I'm good for something. 
 
 There is a rector lives next door. He is so much nicer 
 than he sounds, just like any other human being. He 
 says I am original and amusing and once he called me 
 clever. I don't know how he figures that out. But he is 
 interesting and I am glad he lives next door. Sometimes 
 in the evening when we sit on the porch he jumps across 
 the hedge and comes to talk with us a while. Hedges are 
 convenient things! He sat with us several hours last 
 evening and asked me to tell him about Sunset Mountain. 
 Aunt Sybilla and grandfather went in after a while but 
 Aunt Mary stuck to me like the good person she is. 
 Once when I was telling about some of the girls I felt a 
 tear drop from her eyes on my hands. Then I told them 
 about Red Rose Court, the little Maloney baby and how I 
 used to sit on the curb and hold it and try to keep it 
 amused and not too hot, but it died just the same. The 
 rector laid his hand on my shoulder and said something 
 about a Madonna, but I don't know why he said that. I 
 guess he didn't call me that he couldn't! The ragged, 
 dirty little youngster that was Sade then was anything 
 but a Madonna. I was just a poor kid who loved the 
 other ones. They had a hard time in that Court. While 
 I was talking about it I could imagine I was right back
 
 208 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 there, smelled the cabbage and worse things. I ran from 
 the porch and picked a few stems of lilies-of-the-valley 
 and poked my nose into them. When the rector asked 
 what I was doing I told him I had to get the smell of Red 
 Rose Court out of my head. Then he said something 
 about the sweetness of a noble soul being more potent 
 than the perfume of a perishable flower and that, there- 
 fore, I didn't need any lilies-of-the-valley. I didn't an- 
 swer him, for I wasn't quite sure what he meant. Rec- 
 tors do say things over one's head, sometimes ! But I 
 did understand the next thing he said : " Sarah, you have 
 had a varied life but it has not spoiled you. That big, 
 sympathizing heart of yours is all gold." I wanted to 
 cry coming from the Reverend Snavely that was much 
 to me. Then he no longer thinks I am that " heretic, 
 rebel, a thing to flout " ! 
 
 I asked him if he did. " No, no, indeed ! " he told me. 
 " I know you are not that." 
 
 I suppose it all went over Aunt Mary's head but she 
 smiled and looked interested. 
 
 Reverend Snavely has stacks of good books and he has 
 told me to come over any time and help myself. If he is 
 gone the housekeeper will show me where to get them. I 
 have gone over several times and have always taken the 
 precaution to wait until I saw him go up the street. 
 Then I ran in, selected in a hurry, and was gone before 
 the owner could return. I wonder why I act so, but 
 something seems to make me. Guess I want to keep the 
 neighbors from gossip. For myself it wouldn't matter 
 much. I have so many black marks now that Fairview 
 scratching a few more against me would not greatly con- 
 cern me, but I'd rather lose my right hand than be the 
 cause of any dark hintings against the fair name of that
 
 LETTERS 209 
 
 man. His loan of books to me is just one of the many 
 kind ways he has of helping others. I do devour a book ! 
 Sometimes when Aunt Sybilla calls me I don't hear her 
 if I am reading. She refuses to believe that, says it is 
 absolutely impossible not to hear her, but then she has 
 never read a book of fiction in her life. I read something 
 like this once upon a time, " If I had two loaves of bread 
 I'd sell one and buy white hyacinths for my soul." I 
 think that is the whole trouble with this family of mine. 
 There is too much bread and not enough white hyacinths. 
 But Aunt Mary could easily be won over to my way of 
 thinking ; she is after " me own heart." 
 
 I am kept rather busy. Sometimes I wonder how the 
 place ran before I came. Those poor aunts almost work 
 themselves to death and I know it is so unnecessary. 
 What's the use scrubbing a porch that is clean? Why 
 waste energy sweeping the garden walks? Why bake 
 stacks of pies and cakes when simpler food is more 
 wholesome? If they heard me I'd probably be called un- 
 grateful and critical, but then it's the truth. Not that I 
 mind working. I'm glad to do it so long as it's in my 
 own home. Even the scrubbing seems a glorified task 
 when I stop to think that it is the home of my ancestors 
 and my own long-lost home that I am helping to scrub. 
 Guess the girls that had to do it all their years aren't so 
 crazy about it ! 
 
 I must tell you about Mrs. Roth. This morning she 
 came over. She said she was after a recipe for crullers 
 bet you she knew how to make them ! She had seen 
 the rector on our porch last evening and probably had a 
 mental fit about it. If it had been her Dan she'd fetched 
 him home by the ear! Dan tries so hard to be nice to 
 me and if he weren't worse than an uncoated quinine pill
 
 210 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 to swallow, I'd let him run over here and take me for 
 sodas just to pay her back for some of the gossip she 
 spread about me. But even the sweetness of that re- 
 venge would not pay for the ordeal of having Dan 
 around me. 
 
 Mrs. Roth managed to bring the conversation round to 
 the rector and I saw the crafty gleam of satisfaction steal 
 across her face as she said, " I suppose you have heard 
 that Reverend Snavely has a habit of making girls care 
 for him and then toss them over for a new face. Isn't it 
 too bad! They say that where he went to school there 
 were two who were positively crazy over him, that one 
 girl had her trousseau started, thinking he meant business 
 by his love-making and that ever so many others were 
 dead in love with him, but he made fools of them all. If 
 he ever tries it on any of the girls at St. Paul's he'll be 
 asked to resign, but I guess he knows better than to do it. 
 I often say it's a pity those attractive, magnetic men al- 
 ways do such tricks. Thank goodness my Dan would 
 never do that ! " 
 
 Her Dan I never heard her speak that she didn't 
 thank God her Dan was so honorable. But he's not dead 
 yet. She may be living in a glass house some of these 
 days and her bricks will do damage to her own building. 
 
 I am sorry she said that about the rector, for I like him. 
 Of course she wouldn't dare say a lie about him. But 
 then why should I concern myself about his affairs ? He 
 is kind to me and entertaining when he jumps across the 
 hedge and no matter how many hearts he has broken he 
 hasn't the ghost of a chance to break mine. So much for 
 the rector! 
 
 Grandfather is keeping me on at the store. I'm to get 
 more money next month. Aunt Sybilla is teaching me to
 
 LETTERS 211 
 
 save something for a rainy day, for she says it comes to 
 everybody and I shall be prepared for it. 
 
 They are so good to me. I earn my board, so they say, 
 by helping with the work after the store closes and Satur- 
 day and so the money I earn is mine to spend for clothes 
 and put to bank. It seems too funny to have a pocket- 
 book with money in it ! After six years without a blessed 
 penny to spend I have money of my own and can buy 
 candy or a magazine or something else entirely unneces- 
 sary. I feel like Croesus. 
 
 I am counting the months until we can be together. 
 Have you any plans ? Shall we live in New Jersey or in 
 your own Lancaster County? I can work and keep a 
 home for you. Do you know you and I have never had a 
 real one together since I can remember that's the sad- 
 dest thing ! I shove it from my thoughts as far as I can 
 but sometimes it comes back like a cat you cart away and 
 gets home before you do. Never mind, father, we'll 
 make up for the precious time we lost together. I am 
 sorry you are not feeling better but hope you are much 
 improved by this time. 
 
 I just thought of Johnny Maloney, the time his father 
 died and the priest came to Red Rose Court to see them. 
 Johnny as usual had a terribly dirty face and his mother 
 rubbed her apron over it to get off the top layer. Johnny 
 yelled and said, " I don't care who's here ! I won't have 
 my face washed with spit ! " The priest laughed like 
 anything, for he was Irish too. Hope you feel better 
 now. I always do after I send you a letter. But when 
 we are together again and there'll be no need of letters 
 then Sarah Burkhart will be the happiest girl in seven 
 states! With love, 
 
 SADE.
 
 212 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Away in New Jersey the man who read the last letter 
 closed his eyes as if to shut out a cruel agony; his thin 
 body shook in a spasm of pain as he lay back on his pil- 
 lows, white and worn. He was dying of the White 
 Plague! Haunting memories and torturing remorse 
 gripped his soul. 
 
 " I can't die without seeing her ! " he said at length to 
 himself. " I must write to her. The poor child it will 
 be a sorrow for her, but youth recovers quickly and then 
 I'm thinking dying will be the best thing I've done in 
 many years." A little later he called a nurse and asked 
 for writing materials. Then he began a letter, not to 
 Sarah, but to the father whose face he had not seen in 
 many years. 
 
 DEAR FATHER: 
 
 I scarcely know whether I have the right to call 
 you that or if you wish me to do so, but we can't get 
 away from the fact that you are my father, no matter 
 how I have disgraced the name you gave me. And I 
 have done that. Sarah can tell you more than you want 
 to know about me. I shudder when I think of what the 
 child was exposed to during those years in the slums 
 how can I expect to be forgiven ? But what I am writing 
 about is this I am out of jail, pardoned and in a hospital 
 to die ! I decided not to tell the poor child, to let her 
 be happy and go on dreaming of our little home, but 
 somehow I can't do it. Consumption has me in its 
 clutches and the doctors say I have just a little while 
 longer to live. Sarah has written such sweet letters to 
 me if you knew what they mean to me ! To have kept 
 her love and devotion through all my sins is more than I 
 could have hoped for and yet, if there be any spark of
 
 LETTERS 213 
 
 repentance in me, any of the good lights my mother kin- 
 dled in my heart, their survival is due to the great pure 
 heart of Sarah, who has in her make-up all that is noble 
 and fine of my mother and her own. I can't do less than 
 tell her the truth so that the shock of my death will not 
 be too sudden. I'd like to live just for her sake, that the 
 little home she had dreamed of might be real, but it can't 
 be. She has written to me about the old home, how 
 wonderful it seems to her, how kind you are to her. Oh, 
 father, don't be too hard on her, too strict ! She is young 
 and the ways of youth are changed from the time when 
 you were young. Don't be too strict ! I can't blame my 
 wasted life on you. It was my fault, and mine alone, for 
 I was always weak of will and did not try to grow strong. 
 So long as my wife lived and I had her to lean on I was 
 all right, but when trouble came my way I tottered. That 
 is my fault, I admit it. But, father, I do say you were 
 wrong in turning against me because I married the girl I 
 did. I want to say I was never sorry for one minute 
 that I married her. That's the one thing J do not re- 
 gret. She was as good and fine as ever walked this old 
 world. But I am ashamed I brought disgrace on you and 
 Sarah, her child and mine. I know how you always up- 
 held your honor, how you wanted, above all else, to keep 
 the Burkhart name free from shame. I am sorry I failed 
 you there. I ask your forgiveness for all the sorrow I 
 have caused you, not for marrying the girl I did, but for 
 the sins I committed after she died. My last favor I ask 
 from you may I come home to die ? Will you deny me 
 that? I thought this morning of the roses that used to 
 grow by the kitchen door, against the porch rail, and 
 scent the whole place in June. Each morning as I ran 
 down for breakfast and the open door let in the sunlight
 
 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 I smelled the roses first thing. I never seem to have got- 
 ten that smell out of my nostrils. Father, I want to see 
 the old place once more. The gardens, the flower-beds 
 with the swept, weeded earthen walks between, the old 
 trees I used to climb, and the house oh, how I have 
 longed to wander through it! Even the parlor with its 
 haircloth sofa and the plush album on the marble-top 
 table would look fine to me. And the girls and you 
 there is something binds us to our own no matter how far 
 we roam or how little we deserve the kindness. But the 
 roses call me most these June days. I think if I could 
 bury my face in them I'd die happier. Somehow they 
 make me feel again more like the innocent boy who used 
 to think his father, though strict, was the best father in 
 all the wide world. We have both wandered far from 
 those old days of confidence and love but I am hoping we 
 can have a few before I go. If you can find it possible 
 to forgive me and let me come home I can't write what 
 it will mean to me. If not, then send Sarah to me that I 
 
 may see her once more. 
 
 Your son, 
 
 JERRY.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE PRODIGAL 
 
 JEREMIAH BURKHART looked long at the letter of his 
 son. So the boy was dying dying, and he asked for- 
 giveness and the privilege of dying at home. Memory 
 unveiled pictures of the little lad, the first born of the 
 home. Once the boy had disobeyed and received merited 
 punishment and the father had never forgotten the child's 
 frank confession, " Pop, there's something in me that 
 says I'm to be bad and there's another something that 
 tells me to be good. How am I going to make the good 
 one talk loudest ? " Was that an early evidence of the 
 weakness of the boy? Had they helped the good to 
 " talk loudest " ? How the mother had rejoiced when the 
 first child was a boy and how proudly she had named him 
 Jeremiah! Little pictures of those happy days came 
 back to the old man like flecks of light upon a darkened 
 way the first school bag with its mysteries of pencils, 
 books and so forth; the first money earned in the store 
 and proudly spent for an aluminum saucepan for mother ; 
 the shouts of joy at the first ice skates brought from the 
 store as a reward for faithful shoveling of snow ; the first 
 long trousers and the teasing of Mary and Sybilla as the 
 abashed boy blushed and tried to look important ; the first 
 days of his absence from the old home while he' pursued 
 knowledge in the big city the stormy scene when the 
 discovery of that dreadful woman blighted the beauty of 
 their serene, harmonious lives. How the gentle mother
 
 216 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 had clung to her boy even in the midst of his disgrace, 
 how she trammeled her own hurts in the dust and thought 
 only of him and how to assuage the pain in the hearts of 
 the others who shared the burden of shame! She had 
 tried to soften the father's heart, to make him see that all 
 was not lost, that perhaps, after all, the woman Jerry 
 loved would be so much better than they feared, that she 
 might be redeemed and be worthy of acceptance in the 
 home of the Burkhart family. Had it been a mistake to 
 attempt supervision, control, over the young man? Had 
 they been too quick to condemn? For the first time in 
 the years of estrangement Jeremiah, senior, felt a doubt 
 as to the wisdom of his method of dealing with the boy. 
 Might it be possible that if the boy had had his old home 
 to turn to for refuge in his great sorrow he might have 
 been brought into the fold once more and lived a useful, 
 commendable life among his own people? 
 
 Brought face to face with doubt and sensing the truth 
 that he had so long hidden from his own soul the old man, 
 rigorous in his worship and unshakable in his duty as he 
 saw it delineated, suddenly bowed his head and pondered 
 over the years that were gone. That hour he examined 
 his soul, his actions, his words to the erring son, as mi- 
 nutely and unflinchingly as the student with a microscope 
 in search of life-destroying elements. When he raised 
 his face there were new lines graven upon it. After a 
 moment he rose, walked to the stairs and looked up, a 
 purpose deepening in his heart. 
 
 The letter in hand, he mounted the steps in his slow 
 way and tapped on Sarah's door. 
 
 " Come in," she called. 
 
 As the door was opened and her grandfather stood 
 there she gasped. What had happened? He had never
 
 THE PRODIGAL 217 
 
 before sought her there. What was in the wind, what 
 meant that new look upon his face ? 
 
 "Anything wrong ? " she asked, noting the letter in his 
 hand. 
 
 The man's gaze was fixed on the two pictures on her 
 bureau, the ones she had found that day in the attic and 
 taken without leave. 
 
 " Where'd you get them ? " he asked. 
 
 She faced him with the rigidity of a mother tigress at 
 bay. Her face flamed with the pent-up pain of her heart 
 for her father. " They are mine ! " she cried. " I found 
 them on the attic where you had put them when there was 
 no room for them among the rest of the family pictures 
 in the plush album in the parlor. I found them and took 
 them so they might be in the sight of the only person in 
 this world who loves him my father's daughter! You 
 needn't try to make me hide them, or stop loving him! 
 I'll love my father no matter what he has done. He is 
 my father still, and he loved my lovely Irish mother even 
 if you didn't, and he made her happy and no matter how 
 good you are to me I'd give everything up just to see him 
 happy again." 
 
 She ended pantingly, on the verge of tears. 
 
 " Sarah " The man's voice trembled and it was 
 
 so unusual that it compelled the attention of the girl. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " she asked, scenting some alarm 
 in the manner of the old man. 
 
 " Read this letter." 
 
 He watched her as she read. When the import of the 
 writing reached her she turned and looked at him. 
 " Oh," she cried, " my poor father ! Dying really dy- 
 ing! Never to have that little home we planned to enjoy 
 when he was free ! Never to have happiness to make up
 
 218 THE MADONNA OF THE (CURS 
 
 for these horrible years! To die without " The 
 
 pathos of it overwhelmed her and she flung herself on a 
 chair, hid her head upon her arms and wept. 
 
 " Now, now," she felt the hand of the old man laid 
 upon her hair. " You mustn't cry that way, Sarah 
 don't cry " emotion caused his own voice to quaver 
 " don't cry, now. You and me will go and fetch him 
 home." 
 
 At that she raised her tear-smeared face. There was 
 gladness in her voice despite the sorrow. " You'll let him 
 come home ? " 
 
 " It's where he belongs. I been a hard old man, a 
 hard old man! What you said to me Easter made me 
 think but I wouldn't do it to listen to you right. Now I 
 wish I had. I guess I never learned what the word for- 
 give means. Mebbe I need to ask your pop what he's 
 askin' me in the letter to forgive." 
 
 The girl flung her arms around the neck of the man 
 and their tears mingled. Such demonstrations of feeling 
 were foreign to him but he met them effectually. Some 
 part of his starved, cold heart must have been awakened 
 by the girl's caress. He held her close to him and whis- 
 pered, " You're a blessin' sent from God." Then he 
 kissed her. 
 
 " Grandpap," she said tremulously, " if my father 
 weren't dying I'd be as happy as seven heavens could 
 make me ! It's the first time you ever kissed me and the 
 first time I feel you like me. You do like me a little, 
 even if I had an Irish mother ? " she asked. 
 
 " Sarah, don't say that ! I wish I had known your 
 mom. I'd like to have known the woman that could take 
 my boy from his home and have him be so satisfied with 
 just her that after all he went through since then he can
 
 THE PRODIGAL 219 
 
 still say he is glad he married her. I guess she must 
 have been better than I knew* If abody can judge from 
 you any your mom must have been all right." 
 
 " Grandpap," smiles and tears mingled in the face of 
 the girl, " I'll love you all the rest of my life for that 
 speech! I'm glad I'm half Irish but I'm proud to-day 
 that the other half of me is Pennsylvania Dutch. That 
 keeps the Irish anchored to the earth and, I hope, fur- 
 nishes me with a little sense. Then father will be coming 
 home, back to the old home he never forgot or ceased to 
 want you'll bring him back ? " 
 
 " We'll fetch him, you and me." 
 
 Several days later the Burkhart house in Fairview 
 sheltered another member of the family, the prodigal who 
 had come home to die. The meeting between father and 
 son, who had not met in twenty years, was pathetic. The 
 elder man, thoroughly eager to become reconciled, seeing 
 his former blindness and injustice and repentant concern- 
 ing them, stood aghast before the son. Emaciated, with 
 the marks of his relentless disease upon him, the younger 
 man rose to meet the father he had so sorely grieved. 
 Like the prodigal of yore he humbled himself but was 
 quickly drawn into the arms of the parent. 
 
 Sarah's eyes filled with tears as she saw the reunion of 
 the two men who had come to mean so much in her life. 
 Some intuition of her sex made her see how unhappy the 
 life of the grandfather must have been through the years 
 of estrangement, how deeply the repentance ploughed 
 into his heart. Old Jeremiah did nothing by half meas- 
 ures. He gathered his son to his bosom as a mother 
 might have done. 
 
 " Father," she said after the misunderstandings were 
 swept away, "you don't look as sick as I feared you
 
 220 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 would. I know after you get home and have that good 
 Pennsylvania Dutch cooking and your own people to care 
 for you you will feel much better ! " 
 
 The father smiled at the delusion. She would know 
 soon enough, poor child! 
 
 It was June when the three returned to Fairview. The 
 old-fashioned roses were blooming by the kitchen door. 
 Sarah brought to the sick man, propped in a chair on the 
 balcony, great armfuls of the pink blossoms. Aunt Mary 
 sat long hours by the side of the returned brother, trying 
 to fill the gap of years, telling him bits of news of old 
 school friends and acquaintances, bringing back to him 
 some of the rosy dreams of his boyhood. Aunt Sybilla 
 seldom sat on the balcony ; she was less willing to accept 
 the long estranged brother as one of the family. Of 
 course she knew that it was perfectly right, Christian and 
 only decent, to take him back after he expressed a desire 
 to die in the old home, but she was merely paying him 
 stereotyped kindness. She cooked dishes nourishing and 
 palatable for him that was her duty, but she did not 
 feign a welcome she did not feel. In the man's hours of 
 utter desolation and crushing unhappiness he never had 
 any consolation from the stern, uncompromising Sybilla. 
 She had not yet learned to include in her vocabulary the 
 magnificent word forgive. She accepted his presence as 
 a last addition to the burden he had laid upon them by his 
 wil fulness. Sarah marveled at her. How could the 
 woman remain so steely when the angel of death was 
 hovering over the home? But the girl had ample cause 
 for joy in the miracle she beheld each time she looked 
 into the face of her grandfather. He was no longer 
 stern, cold, critical. The softening influence of the rec- 
 onciliation with his son changed his very countenance.
 
 THE PRODIGAL 221 
 
 Fairview fairly tingled with the new subject for its 
 backyard-conversation-exchange, its parlor confidences 
 and store-news-dispensaries. 
 
 Young Jeremiah Burkhart was home to die! The 
 news was sent around in record time. Mrs. Roth ran 
 across the street immediately to offer her help and bring 
 some lamb broth. She was so thankful there was no 
 criminal in her family that she felt like doing some 
 real acts of charity to show her appreciation and grati- 
 tude. 
 
 The rector came across the hedge one evening and 
 Sarah mentally blessed him for his natural, friendly 
 greeting to her father. 
 
 " Father is anxious to meet you, Reverend Snavely. I 
 have told him all about you." 
 
 "All that's not fair! You should have allowed him 
 to draw his own conclusions instead of telling what a 
 paragon I am." 
 
 " There, that sounds Irish ! " she exclaimed. " I bet 
 you are part Irish." 
 
 They laughed, as people under high tension are glad to 
 laugh at trifles. The rector shook hands with the man 
 and sat down. A soft summer breeze, invigorating and 
 health-renewing, blew across the lawn, but the pallid 
 cheeks of the man, with their hectic daub of crimson, 
 presaged the advent of the Unbidden Guest. The rec- 
 tor's heart swelled with pity at the sight, the face was so 
 strikingly emblematic of the man's life wasted ! That a 
 human life could be so squandered 
 
 Sarah's voice recalled him and the Reverend Snavely 
 turned to the ex-convict. A new regard for her neighbor 
 sprang to the girl's heart as she saw how friendly and en- 
 tertaining he could be to the wrecked, wretched man on
 
 222 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 the balcony. She did not go beyond that he was a man 
 one could admire and like. 
 
 After the rector left the sick man lay pondering. So 
 Jimmie Snavely had grown into a fine man like that ! A 
 preacher and attractive what an ideal mate for Sarah. 
 Then he groaned. Would ever a preacher want to marry 
 the daughter of a convict? His heart contracted with a 
 new pain as he realized anew how hardly is it possible for 
 the sower of the whirlwind to reap the whirlwind alone. 
 Others, innocent, must share in the harvest of tears and 
 regrets. 
 
 In the days that followed Sarah clung to her father like 
 a shadow. Her grandfather had insisted she leave the 
 work at the store to others and devote her time to the 
 man who was so surely dying. At first she hoped against 
 hope, -but gradually she realized that for the man who 
 had paid the penalty of the law for his crime there was 
 being exacted another, greater penalty. Life was slip- 
 ping away from him like sand through the fingers of a 
 child. 
 
 Many afternoons the old man also left the busy store 
 and sat with the little company on the balcony. The girl 
 sensed how strong was the renewed affection between the 
 two men. Over and over she had them tell her about the 
 dear grandmother who had been so like gentle Aunt 
 Mary. Over and over tales of the man's boyhood were 
 told for her enjoyment. And more, the grandfather en- 
 couraged the younger man to tell of those wonderful days 
 when the Irish mother of Sarah had brightened his life. 
 When old Jeremiah Burkhart could sit and hear the ac- 
 tress daughter-in-law extolled and shake his head approv- 
 ingly some radical change had surely been effected in 
 him. A mellow tenderness touched the face of old Jere-
 
 THE PRODIGAL 223 
 
 miah those days, as the rugged lines softened under the 
 communion with his son. 
 
 The days, for all their lovely June sounds and sights, 
 were chimerical to the people who waited while one of 
 their flock drifted into the valley of the shadow. What 
 hope was in the heart of the man as he neared the disso- 
 lution of body and spirit? Once the father asked him 
 whether he would like to see a Mennonite preacher, but 
 the ill man smiled and said no, he was all right. Only 
 the Reverend Snavely, a frequent visitor to the balcony, 
 could have told what transpired in the heart of the dying 
 man those last days. 
 
 The end came in July. The heat of the little town sent 
 the man gasping. He lay inertly on his pillows. Sarah, 
 hovering about him as a mother round a child, caught his 
 whispered desire to have her come closer. She bent over 
 him and he told her, " Sarah, you don't have to be told, 
 but I want to tell you, it doesn't pay to do wrong. What 
 if God forgives, there is still the bitter remorse to drive 
 one almost insane. It bites into me when I think of what 
 might have been what might have been ! " 
 
 " But, father, you know, haven't you read, ' Though 
 your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow ' ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know ! But the scarlet remains in your 
 memory. It's hard to forget the wasted years. Sarah, 
 you should be glad for me I am hoping that death for 
 me means going to her." 
 
 In Fairview attendance at funerals is considered a sol- 
 emn obligation. Neighbors, friends and relatives gather 
 to pay respect to the deceased. The death of a member 
 of the Burkhart family, even the black sheep of the fold, 
 was the signal for black clothes to be brought out and 
 preparations made for a " big funeral." Part of the rite
 
 224 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 was the viewing of the body by the public. Many per- 
 sons, morbidly curious, came to the house on Main Street 
 and passed before the casket where rested the remains of 
 Jeremiah Junior. 
 
 " My, ain't he took off a lot ! " was the comment of 
 several neighbors. Others saw in the death so much sor- 
 row that they sobbed audibly as they stood in the dark- 
 ened parlor and looked down at the still face of the man 
 about whom so much gossip had been rampant. There 
 he lay, the man who had broken his mother's heart, 
 caused his father so much shame, darkened the lives of 
 his sisters with the shadows cast by his misdeeds, sent his 
 child into a reformatory there he lay ! What a lesson 
 to heedless youth, the town people said, what an example 
 of a wasted life ! 
 
 There were some who came to the house of mourning 
 for other purposes. Said one woman frankly, " Of 
 course I'm goin' to that funeral! It wondered me long 
 a'ready how Burkhart's got their house fixed inside and 
 now I got a chance once to get in it, parlor and up-stairs 
 and all." 
 
 " Well, I'm not going," said her neighbor. " I don't go 
 to funerals unless they're so near I got to. I think still 
 it's bad enough I got to go to my own." 
 
 "Ach," came the startling answer, " I go to every one I 
 can. I think it does abody good to feel sad like at fu- 
 nerals. I don't often miss one." 
 
 Sarah, in the house of mourning, heard the tramp of 
 the curious who came to gape at the dead and she re- 
 sented it " Even in death they despise him," she thought 
 bitterly. " I know Mrs. Roth is saying she is thankful 
 there never was a criminal in her family ! " 
 
 But the ordeal of a small-town funeral did not end at
 
 THE PRODIGAL 225 
 
 the services in the house. There was the public service 
 in the Mennonite meeting house which was packed to the 
 doors, the harrowing singing of sorrowful hymns, the 
 long sermon, and the march of the people to the front of 
 the church to pass by the casket and take a last look at the 
 remains. Sarah felt that human endurance was taxed to 
 the breaking point by the experience. She came back to 
 the house, limp and exhausted. But even then there was 
 no peace for her. Kindly disposed relatives from out of 
 town, people she had never seen, had come to do their 
 duty and see Jeremiah buried and they lingered for a day 
 or two, turning the funeral occasion into a visit, seizing 
 the unexpected opportunity to make a round of visits 
 among the relatives in and near Fair view. 
 
 Finally, when the thing was all over and the house once 
 more quiet, she faced life, changed and sobered by the 
 experience. Her boasted Irish optimism and good cheer 
 seemed held in subjection by sadness. She was thankful 
 to get back to work in the store and try to find partial 
 forgetfulness in occupation. 
 
 Aunt Sybilla decided that black garments were the 
 proper thing for the daughter to wear. But Sarah dif- 
 fered. 
 
 "I won't wear black for anybody! It's not one bit 
 more respectful than colors and makes me feel more 
 somber. Goodness knows people won't feel happier look- 
 ing at me in black." Her long acquaintance and close 
 companionship with nature on Sunset Mountain had 
 taught her to view sanely and reverently the mysteries of 
 life and death. To her death was not an event to terror- 
 ize the heart into chaotic darkness, neither was it an occa- 
 sion for incessant wails. She had learned by analogy 
 from nature the glorious truth of resurrection and her
 
 226 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 faith upheld her during the dark hours when her sorrow 
 seemed heavier than she could bear. 
 
 But there were times when her loneliness, the grief at 
 the death of her father, the pathos of his wasted years, 
 sent her into weeping. Such a time came to her several 
 days after he had been laid to rest in the little cemetery 
 overlooking Fairview. Aunt Sybilla tried to keep the girl 
 occupied in the hope that the depression would wear off. 
 She had sent Sarah to the orchard for cherries. With a 
 tin kettle and a stout hook to fasten it to the branch the 
 girl climbed up into the tree where the luscious cherries 
 were red ripe. She picked them dutifully, their dull thud 
 sounding in the kettle as they fell. A crotch of the tree 
 afforded a safe resting-place and there were so many 
 cherries she could pick a great many without changing 
 position. 
 
 Suddenly some vagrant memory of her father's boy- 
 hood came to her and the grief she had pent up bravely 
 burst through the flood-gates. She leaned her head 
 against a friendly branch and cried. 
 
 " Sarah ! " The voice of the rector came to her 
 through the sounds of her own weeping. "What are 
 you doing? " 
 
 " I'm picking cherries," she said, her face still hidden. 
 
 " You are doing something very different from picking 
 cherries," he insisted. " Come down. Look at me." 
 
 She lifted her face to let him see. " There, look ! " 
 She tried. to smile. "Oh, it's mean in you to make me 
 look at you. Everybody knows that no person is beauti- 
 ful when they cry. That's why I try to laugh instead, 
 
 and generally I can manage it but sometimes " Her 
 
 lips trembled. 
 
 "Don't you do it!" he said. "Don't do it," he re-
 
 THE PRODIGAL 227 
 
 peated tenderly. " Better come down and talk to me," he 
 suggested. 
 
 She climbed down, wondering vaguely why she always 
 felt a desire to do as he asked her. " You always come 
 when I cry," she accused him; " have you a barometer to 
 tell you when that happens ? " 
 
 " Just my my intuition," he told her. 
 
 " Oh ! " It was half a query. 
 
 " Why were you crying this time ? " he asked as they 
 stood together under the tree. 
 
 " Oh, I just felt like it ! I've got a sloppy heart, always 
 running over. If I'd let it go I'd be crying fifty times a 
 week, but I twist it around and laugh instead, generally. 
 But I had to cry just now. I read once that crying clears 
 the eyes and makes them more glistening." She smiled 
 and he forbore to question her further. 
 
 " I came over to tell you good news," he told her. 
 
 " What ? " She was eager. 
 
 " Your class in Sunday school is going to rent a cottage 
 at Mount Gretna in August and spend two weeks there. 
 I am going to take some of the town boys over at the 
 same time to Roths' cottage. I spoke to your grandfa- 
 ther about it and he thinks the change in the mountains 
 would do you good. He is anxious to have you get away 
 for a while. You have certainly won his heart. I told 
 the class I'd speak about it to you for you missed several 
 Sundays and weren't aware of their plans. The girls 
 said they hope you will come with them." 
 
 " Um, I'll take that with a grain of salt ! Of course 
 they told you they are dying to have me join them but all 
 the time they were praying I sprain my ankle or neck or 
 anything to keep me here! To them I am still that 
 ' heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.' I still have my battle to
 
 228 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 fight before I get that immense circle drawn. But if 
 grandpap says I may go I'm going." 
 
 " Good ! I thought you would not be intimidated by a 
 few snobs who do not understand you. It may be an op- 
 portune time to have them become really acquainted with 
 you. The girls are going to love you when they know 
 the real Sarah Burkhart." 
 
 She could not speak for a moment, his kindness 
 touched her. " Sometimes," she said after a little silence, 
 " I wish I didn't have quite so much Irish in me, for it 
 makes you so you can be dumped to the pits of purgatory 
 one minute and shot up straight to the heights of heaven 
 the next. It takes my breath away." 
 
 "Ah, that isn't being Irish, that's Youth, wonderful, 
 magical Youth, with its recuperative powers and plastic- 
 ity. Youth, which can be wildly jubilant one minute and 
 dismally unhappy the next. Youth, which can feel. Dear 
 girl, only as we carry that youthfulness and capacity to 
 feel into mature years do we live radiant lives. Many of 
 us live sober, fruitful lives, but how few emulate the 
 Pattern and live radiant ones! If I could make people 
 see that, how much a duty joy is, I'd feel that my minis- 
 try counted. Be thankful you have that joy fulness in 
 full measure." 
 
 " It just comes natural to me to be so," she said, laugh- 
 ing her infectious sparkling ripple. 
 
 " Favored of the gods," he suggested. 
 
 " Well," she retorted gaily, " don't they owe me some- 
 thing for setting me down in Red Rose Court?" The 
 next instant she was serious. " I have always felt happy 
 inside of me, that is, off and on, as they say in Fairview. 
 They work off and on, have headaches off and on, go to 
 church off and on "
 
 THE PRODIGAL 229 
 
 He laughed. " So you are happy off and on? " 
 
 " Yes. I've always been. Even in Red Rose Court I 
 danced and skipped when the hurdy-gurdy played. And 
 when I went to the mountain there was so much to be 
 glad about ! New dresses and shoes, after having had to 
 pick them out of the ash boxes and trash cans ; a bathtub 
 and lots of hot water all the year round; a real doll the 
 teacher gave me; good meals; molasses for my bread 
 every day ; work to do to win the praise of Miss Hughes ; 
 the wonderful out-of-doors on a mountain top I couldn't 
 laugh and skip enough to express all my joy. Then the 
 things Miss Hughes taught me ! She'd recite Riley to us 
 until I knew the verses. I can hear her saying now, ' It 
 hain't no use to grumble and complane; it's jest as cheap 
 and easy to rejoice.' And then she'd always add, 'And 
 girls, it's a lot more pleasant for the people who have 
 to be around us.' " 
 
 She looked away from him then, deep in retrospect, 
 while he regarded her face, expressive, beautiful in its 
 animation and eagerness. He wondered how he had 
 thought her rather plain when she came to Fairview. 
 Why, with that expression she was magnificent ! He ran 
 over her list of things about which she had been grate- 
 ful a bathtub, molasses, cheap clothes, then he re- 
 membered pampered children he had met who were never 
 satisfied, to whom expensive toys were merely boredom, 
 spoiled children satiated with life before they tasted it, 
 every desire gratified long before maturity 
 
 "And since I'm here," her voice claimed his attention, 
 " I have so much to make me happier than Stevenson's 
 kings that I ought to be shaken if I ever complain. I'm 
 ashamed of myself when I cry. I must be getting to be a 
 regular old granny, like the woman Aunt Mary tells me
 
 230 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 about. She cries at funerals, at christenings, at weddings, 
 entertainments, public celebrations every place is satu- 
 rated with her tears. But when you are nice to me I 
 want to cry the worst way. It makes me feel like I did 
 the day I discovered I had a conscience and how it 
 worked. I'll never forget that dreadful hurt in my 
 throat ! You make me feel it all over again when you are 
 nice to me." She looked at him as a child might have 
 done, innocent admiration in her eyes. 
 
 " Why shouldn't I be nice to you ? Aren't we neighors 
 and haven't you told me many things about Red Rose 
 Court and Sunset Mountain, things which enlightened 
 me ! Aren't we friends ? " 
 
 " / hope so." 
 
 "I know so!" 
 
 " Then I'll finish picking my cherries since we have 
 settled that ! " she said, a bit confused by his direct speak- 
 ing. 
 
 " I'll help you." 
 
 In a moment they were up in the same tree picking 
 cherries into the tin pail. Sarah stole glances at him 
 from time to time. How different he seemed from the 
 man who read the prayers in St. Paul's or walked sol- 
 emnly into the chapel in his long black gown! And yet 
 how like him! She felt very glad to know he was her 
 friend.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 
 
 IN the beautiful South Mountains of Pennsylvania lies 
 the famous summer resort, Mount Gretna. Several hun- 
 dred cottages, ranging from those of simplest structure 
 to picturesque bungalows, are scattered under the tower- 
 ing trees of the mountains. Vacationists find Mount 
 Gretna an ideal spot of sylvan rest, energetic colonists 
 delight in the mountain climbing and bathing in beautiful 
 Lake Conewago which lies in the arm of the tower- 
 ing Governor Dick Mountain. A tract of many acres is 
 owned by the government and used for national encamp- 
 ment purposes, which adds to the life and gaiety of the 
 place. 
 
 The summer arrivals had come in great numbers that 
 August when Sarah and the other members of her class, 
 chaperoned by Mrs. Roth, arrived in Mount Gretna. 
 Sarah knew that she was the one unwelcome person in 
 the party but some power seemed to tug at her and force 
 her to come. The girls, still unacquainted with the new 
 member, were cool in their manner, but she steeled her 
 heart and allowed the snubs to glance from her like 
 arrows from armor. The girls soon found that Sarah 
 was immune to snubs, entered heartily into every sport, 
 did her share of the work in the cottage, and after the 
 manner of youth, they forgot some of their prejudice and 
 treated her more kindly. 
 
 Mrs. Roth considered it a great charity to chaperone 
 3 crowd of which Sarah made one. She still thanked
 
 heaven devoutly that her family escutcheon was un- 
 stained. Of necessity she swallowed her unfriendliness 
 as well as she could and assumed a self-righteous air. 
 She would try to improve the daughter of Jeremiah 
 Burkhart, while she vowed extreme vigilance that the 
 reformatory girl could not exert any evil influence upon 
 the dear girls who had been reared so carefully. Poor 
 martyred Mrs. Roth anticipated a trying time at the 
 mountain resort. 
 
 Fortunately Sarah gained some slight prestige because 
 of her ability to cook. Most of the girls were accustomed 
 to help with the housework. One or two frankly stated 
 they knew nothing about cooking and managed to shift 
 their burdens upon other shoulders. Sarah's were the 
 shoulders upon which most of the shifting was done. 
 
 " You're such a dear," they told her, " you don't mind 
 sweeping the porch while I run down for the mail. I 
 know mother will send me a note to-day." 
 
 " Certainly I'm a dear, I don't mind," would be Sarah's 
 answer and her winsome smile disarmed suspicion. Be- 
 hind their backs she twisted her face into a grimace and 
 whispered, " I'm dead easy now, but I have an axe to 
 grind. Sarah isn't as stupid as she looks." 
 
 But, though burdened with more than her share of the 
 tasks about the cottage, she found time to run to the lake 
 in her bathing suit and swim about with the others. 
 It was her first trial in the water, really her first vaca- 
 tion! To the other girls the days at Mount Gretna were 
 a mere lark and good time, to Sarah they were an event. 
 
 Several mornings after arrival in the woods she was 
 sweeping the porch. She had risen early; the clamber- 
 ing of chipmunks and squirrels upon the roof of the cot- 
 tage had wakened her before daylight. She had set the
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 233 
 
 cottage in order, then went out to the porch and stood 
 drinking in the fresh ozone of the mountains. The 
 beauty of the morning thrilled her. Birds were caroling 
 in the great trees that canopied the entire colony of cot- 
 tages. A shower during the night had drenched the 
 leaves with fragrance and the pines exuded their whole- 
 some odor. Jays screamed in strident voices but even 
 their discordant sounds seemed so much a part of the 
 woods that Sarah loved them, quarrelsome blue trouble- 
 makers though they were. 
 
 " Race you sweeping the porch ! " challenged a voice. 
 
 She looked down the woodland street and there, several 
 doors below by a rambling cottage, stood the Reverend 
 James Snavely, broom in hand. 
 
 " Why," she said as he came to meet her, " when did 
 you come? Mrs. Roth thought you'd be here to-day." 
 
 " We came in late last night. Had a chance to come 
 up in a car and the boys were anxious to get here so we 
 came. There are four of us, Dan Roth, two others and 
 myself." 
 
 " Going to do your own cooking? " 
 
 " Yes, for a time. The boys think it will be a lark but 
 we'll probably end by doing as the old Indian said, ' I 
 cook myself, I eat myself.' " 
 
 Sarah laughed. "If it gets too bad drop in here for a 
 meal. Mrs. Roth won't mind so long as her darling boy 
 is in the crowd." 
 
 " Thank you. We may have to take advantage of your 
 offer. But we'll try cooking for a few days until the 
 boys tire of it. One of them says he knows how to cook 
 and we are going to make him prove it." 
 
 The arrival of the rector and the boys from Fairview 
 added great interest to the stay at Mount Gretna, thought
 
 234 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 the other girls under Mrs. Roth's chaperonage.; Of 
 course the rector, they reasoned, was too old to be con- 
 sidered a real companion. His thirty-odd years seemed 
 well-nigh ancient compared to their eighteen. But Dan 
 and the younger boys were lively and jolly and a good 
 time was anticipated. 
 
 Dan sought out Sarah the very first day. The smiles 
 of the other girls were passed with mere recognition and 
 Sarah singled from the crowd to receive the signal favor 
 of his attentions, greatly to the dismay of his mother. 
 Later, when she could manage a private talk with her 
 son she called him to sharp account. " Dan," she tried 
 to be diplomatic, " I can't have any of you boys paying 
 special attention to any one girl." 
 
 " Darn it, mother," he retorted, " if I singled out the 
 right one, Mary Becker for instance, you'd never say a 
 word. I tell you Sarah has the others skinned a mile! 
 She's a peach ! " 
 
 " But not for you to pick ! Remember that ! She 
 isn't your stripe of a girl. I'd never call her my daughter. 
 She has a past that can't be lived down. Thank 
 heaven " 
 
 " Oh, mother, cut the dramatics ! " he said flippantly. 
 " Quit thanking heaven in public ; it isn't done these days, 
 you know ! I'm going to have a bad case on Sarah so 
 you might as well make the best of it. Suppose I'll get 
 over it as I got over the measles without any after-ef- 
 fects. Darn her, though, she's as high strung as a real 
 aristocrat ; wonder who she thinks she is ! " 
 
 However, Sarah, greatly to Dan's surprise, received his 
 attentions more calmly than she had done in the little 
 town. She walked with Dan, went swimming with him, 
 attended the movies with him, occasionally danced with
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 235 
 
 him shades of her Mennonite ancestors! but she held 
 him just where she wanted him. As soon as he waxed 
 sentimental she grew irresponsive and he soon divined 
 that the only way to gain any attention from her was to 
 be friendly but nothing more. 
 
 As the rector watched the coupling of the two his 
 heart was troubled. Something akin to dismay came to 
 him. What did a boy like Dan want with a girl like 
 Sarah? Why, she was fathoms too deep for the shallow 
 youth ! Too fine, lovely could it be that ulterior motives 
 prompted the girl ? Then he put such visionary surmises 
 down as unfair to her. She was probably amusing her- 
 self, after the manner of thoughtless youth. He tried 
 to view matters from that angle and called himself a 
 meddling, jealous creature when he felt little pangs as 
 he saw Dan and Sarah strolling off to the lake or bound 
 for maidenhair ferns or wild flowers. What did it mat- 
 ter to him? Why was he so concerned about it? Of 
 course he had found the little neighbor intensely inter- 
 esting and different from the general run of girls or 
 women he knew, but he never analyzed his feelings more 
 minutely than that. Then once in the quiet of the woods 
 as he stretched prone under a pine tree where the brown 
 needles made a cushion fragrant and inviting, he studied 
 over the matter. What was his feeling for the girl next 
 door? The laughing, crying child- woman whose heart 
 was so big and full of sympathy that it constantly had 
 an overflow. Sarah, from whose childish lips had fallen 
 oaths and rude speech that no other girl in Fairview had 
 ever heard; Sarah, whose father had narrowly escaped 
 death in a prison cell; Sarah, against whose record was 
 chalked, marked with indelible strokes, six YEARS IN A 
 REFORMATORY what a girl she was! How keen an in-
 
 236 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 sight she had ! He remembered how he had winced un- 
 der her searching gaze and the declaration that he, too, 
 thought her a " heretic, rebel, a thing to flout/' certainly 
 not a thing to love. She was right; he had thought her 
 as one needing help, aye, reformation. He had seen in 
 her an errant child unfortunate in so many ways, the 
 victim of environment, and he had offered her church and 
 Sunday school as a solution of her troubles when what 
 she had craved most was companionship. He had prayed 
 for her soul when a walk through the country lanes and 
 a friendly talk on life, nature, and the like, would have 
 helped her infinitely more. What did her influence mean 
 to him? What was the import of the power she was 
 certainly exerting upon him, unconsciously to her- 
 self, he was certain. Was he beginning to care for her 
 as he had never cared for any woman before ? Hitherto 
 he had seen many women he admired but none to whom 
 he could give his love. None of them had ever been able 
 to grip his heart strings and play the music there that 
 Sarah's presence could. What was he thinking of ? Cer- 
 tainly he, a clergyman, could not consider marriage with 
 a reformatory girl ! It was out of the question ! Yet he 
 despised himself for the thought. Sane, deliberate think- 
 ing showed him clearly that if he ever married it would 
 have to be a girl of impeccable character, whose past 
 would admit a searchlight of investigation. The wife of 
 a clergyman could not hope to escape microscopic dis- 
 sections of her past, so much he knew of the ways of the 
 world. And yet, even as he convinced his heart that his 
 reasoning was correct, there came to him the strong, ir- 
 resistible truth that the child of Red Rose Court had 
 come unscathed through experiences that would have 
 submerged and contaminated a weaker nature. He had
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 237 
 
 to admit that each new experience to the Irish-Dutch 
 neighbor had but enriched and broadened her vision, ex- 
 panded her capacity to feel. Never would a creature in 
 need appeal to her in vain. The whimpering of the chil- 
 dren of pestilential Red Rose Court would echo in the 
 cry of every other child she ever heard ; the remembrance 
 of the shadows sin had cast into her life would set her 
 heart throbbing with sympathy for all degraded, unhappy 
 mortals. Her sorrows had, indeed, brought her an 
 " eagle-sight of God." 
 
 The rector recognized the truth but the world-old 
 demarcations between man-made standards of right and 
 wrong seemed ineradicable. In the eyes of the world 
 Sarah Burkhart was not suitable for the wife of any min- 
 ister of the Gospel. And in the heart of the Reverend 
 James Snavely raged the ancient battle between duty and 
 desire. 
 
 The cooking experiment in the bachelor cottage soon 
 ran the experimenters into deep water. The girls 
 shrieked with laughter one of the first days when the 
 boys recounted their experiences in the kitchen. They 
 were all sitting on the porch of the girls' house, Mrs. 
 Roth very much in evidence as befitted a faithful watcher. 
 
 " Say," began the narrator of the tale, " this was rice 
 day at our house." 
 
 " Rice day! What's that?" came the query he hoped 
 for. 
 
 " I'll tell you ! It was my turn to cook. I thought I'd 
 give them a treat for dessert, not pie from the boarding- 
 house any simp can do that! I'd cook some rice and 
 serve it with milk, sugar and bananas. So I asked all the 
 fellows and they voted for it. Well, I counted four of 
 us and doubled that for second helpings and a few more
 
 238 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 in case any asked for third, then I measured out ten 
 saucers of rice, heaping full, no skimping when I cook ! 
 I put it on to boil. Bless me, in a little while it was go- 
 ing over the stove, put the fire out! I put half in an- 
 other kettle and lighted another burner and started them 
 off. I watched them and right then died the old saying 
 that a watched pot never boils. They boiled and boiled 
 and came near spilling rice over the stove again. So I 
 had to find a third pot and divide the contents of the 
 two, and when the operation was completed we had three 
 huge mounds of rice. It'll be rice for breakfast, dinner 
 and supper for a week. How was I to know the thing 
 swells like a sponge in water ! " 
 
 The girls laughed at the story and promptly called the 
 boy Ricey. So sped the days in the mountains, care- 
 free, filled with walks and swims or idle resting under 
 the trees. To Sarah they were one long holiday. The 
 charm of her personality gradually attracted the girls. 
 Her sense of humor, quick repartee, big-hearted kind- 
 ness, won for her first admiration, then real affection. 
 With the frankness of youth the girls refused to accept 
 the opinions of Mrs. Roth and the town in general and 
 took into their hearts the child of a convict. " I don't 
 care," they told each other confidentially, " she's lots of 
 fun and I like her ! " 
 
 Sarah felt the breaking of the barrier between them 
 and was glad. She began to see the first swath of that 
 circle she had planned to draw. 
 
 Every day was a joy day. There were walks to the 
 lake, down a long winding path through the heart of the 
 dense woods that edges Lake Conewago. Sometimes 
 there were longer climbs to the several peaks from whose 
 summits a panoramic view of the country could be had.'
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 239 
 
 It was to one of these peaks that Sarah and Dan came 
 several days before the end of the two weeks' stay at 
 Mount Gretna. 
 
 Another girl and boy had started with them for the 
 place where maidenhair ferns grow, but before they 
 reached the last trail the others decided to change their 
 destination and seek high moss that grew along a stream 
 and, they agreed, when the two parties returned to the 
 cottage the spoils could be divided. Sarah demurred but 
 the girl laughed and said, " Oh, what's going to bite you ? 
 Are you afraid of Dan ? " 
 
 Thus cornered Sarah could do no less than agree to the 
 changed plan and she and Dan continued on their way to 
 the rare maidenhair while the others turned aside to a 
 lower trail. 
 
 It was a perfect day in the woods. The grand old trees 
 reared their tops so high and were growing so close to- 
 gether that when Sarah looked upward her eyes met only 
 a tangle of green boughs oak, maple, pine, interlaced 
 until it was difficult to distinguish the parent trunk of 
 each tree. Hardy sword ferns grew in profusion, black- 
 berry vines and elders, laurel bushes and Solomon's seal 
 made a thick carpet under the trees. Along a sloping 
 bank away from the narrow trail tramped for years 
 through the woods, the dainty maidenhair fern lifted its 
 delicate parasols of green. 
 
 Sarah exclaimed joyously when she spied the first one. 
 She ran to it, knelt in the moss and touched the fronds 
 gently. " Oh," she cried, " these make me feel home- 
 sick for Sunset Mountain ! We used to get them there, 
 plant them in moss and keep them all winter. That was 
 a paradise for birds, flowers and so forth." 
 
 " But not for people," said the boy unsympathetically.
 
 240 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB; 
 
 " I should think you'd want to forget that place instead 
 of talking about it all the time." 
 
 "Why?" she challenged, looking up at him with a 
 frown on her face that had so lately been radiant. 
 
 " Oh, well, you know a reformatory isn't exactly a 
 place to boast of as a former residence," he said jauntily, 
 smiling. 
 
 " No I suppose you are like your mother you thank 
 heaven there was never a criminal or reformatory inmate 
 in your family ! " 
 
 The sarcasm did not escape the young man but he 
 threw back his head and laughed loudly. " Really, 
 girlie," he said gaily, " you are almost handsome when 
 you're angry." 
 
 Sarah's eyes grew dark. She ignored the bold speech 
 and bent more closely over the ferns. 
 
 Dan did not change the subject so readily. He turned 
 to where the girl knelt among the ferns and smiled down 
 at her. " Dearie, you're some girl ! I told mother you 
 have the others skinned a mile." 
 
 Sarah rose from the damp earth and faced him, her 
 face scarlet with wrath, her lips tense. " You better be 
 careful how you speak to me, Dan Roth!" she warned 
 him. But he was deaf to her words. The next instant 
 he grabbed her and though she struggled, succeeded in 
 printing a kiss upon her face. With a mighty wrench 
 she loosened his hold, gave him a hard smack on the 
 mouth, and darted down the woods away from him. 
 
 " Sarah ! " the boy called after her ; the unexpected 
 chastisement nonplussed him. 
 
 " Sarah ! " He looked about in bewilderment had the 
 earth opened and swallowed her? She was nimble and 
 the dense growth of bushes aided her. In a short time
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 241 
 
 she was completely out of sight of the youth, who stood 
 among the ferns, occasionally rubbing a hand ruefully 
 across his smarting face. 
 
 " By George ! The little fool ! She can't find her way 
 back to the cottage if she goes in that direction. Sarah ! " 
 But the woods gave back the empty sound, " ah ! " He 
 called again ; the " ah " fell mockingly upon his ears. 
 " Sarah ! " He started in pursuit. " Come back ! I 
 won't touch you again. You'll never find the way back 
 alone ! " 
 
 If the girl heard his frantic appeals she gave no sign. 
 She had struck headlong into the woods and kept going 
 circuitously anywhere to get away from the man who 
 had managed to instil genuine fear into her heart. 
 
 Dan floundered about in the dense undergrowth, call- 
 ing vainly but finding no trace of the girl's path. If he 
 had been endowed with Indian shrewdness and ability to 
 read the trail by trampled weeds left in her wake follow- 
 ing her might have been comparatively easy, but he was 
 an ordinary youth with little knowledge of woodcraft and 
 in his shock and apprehension he had stood helplessly by 
 while she ran far enough from him to be completely 
 concealed by the dense growth and after his scattered 
 wits were collected he had no means of determining the 
 direction of her flight. After an hour's vain search along 
 the narrow trail he confessed himself at a loss to find 
 her and started on the homeward road alone. 
 
 " Confound her ! " he muttered, " there'll be a grand 
 fuss if I get in ahead of her or she doesn't turn up soon ! 
 Perhaps she's there now and will have the laugh on me 
 for hunting her when she's safe at the cottage." 
 
 But when Dan came to the girls' cottage he found as- 
 sembled on the porch all except Sarah.
 
 242 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Why, where's Sarah ? " called the girl who had started 
 with them on the walk. " Have you lost her or thrown 
 her down a gulley ? " 
 
 " I she left me and started back alone." He was 
 thoroughly confused. 
 
 " What ! " shouted several of the girls. " You let her 
 go off alone in those mountains ! Are you crazy, Dan 
 Roth?" 
 
 His mother came to his rescue. " Oh, she'll get back 
 all right! It simply goes to show what a wild creature 
 she is. The idea of her running away from Dan and 
 placing him in such a predicament ! But what else can 
 one expect from such a girl? Serves her right if she 
 gets a good scare. But she can easily find the path and 
 keep on it till she strikes the railroad, then she'll know 
 where she is. There is no need to worry. She will be 
 back soon enough." 
 
 " Yes," said Mary Becker who had tramped over those 
 mountains and knew their vastness, " that would be very 
 easy if there were only one trail, but I happen to know 
 there are dozens of wood-cutters' trails leading deep into 
 the woods, miles from here, some of them. To be lost 
 in the heart of that hill is no joke. It's a shame! What 
 kind of an escort are you, Dan Roth, to allow a girl to 
 do such a thing ! " 
 
 " Ah, she didn't ask me, just got funny and ran off 
 and before I knew what she was up to she was gone so 
 I couldn't find her. She was lost as a needle in a hay- 
 stack." 
 
 " Urn," the girl eyed him keenly. " What made her do 
 that ? " she demanded. " She would not have done it 
 unless she had some good reason." 
 
 " Bah ! " Dan turned from his inquisitor. " She makes
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 243 
 
 me sick! Let her be lost! What is she at any rate 
 just a convict's kid and a reformatory girl ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, you aren't fair to her ! " said Sarah's cham- 
 pion. " Sarah is more than you said just now! She is 
 the cleverest, kindest, most original and entertaining girl 
 I know ! We have been mean to her, so mean we couldn't 
 see her fine qualities. I guess we were prejudiced by 
 gossip, most of us. But if she ever comes back I'm 
 going to try to win her friendship; she's worth cultivat- 
 ing. I have an idea we could all learn a few things from 
 Sarah Burkhart." 
 
 The praise, coming from one of Fairview's socially 
 elect, augured well for the future happiness of Sarah. 
 But the praise struck terror to the heart of Mrs. Roth. 
 The words, " if she ever comes back," set her thinking. 
 
 " My gracious," she cried, " the girl might really get 
 lost! What shall we do?" She lifted her eyes to the 
 big mountain that reared its head above Mount Gretna 
 and trailed away into dimness remote. To be lost there 
 was, indeed, no joking matter. 
 
 " Dan," she cried, " whatever made you let her do such 
 a thing ? We must find her ! I'll tell the rector and you 
 have to start after her." 
 
 " Go ahead," said the boy stubbornly. " I'm not in it ! 
 I called her and she wouldn't come back." 
 
 His mother did not answer but ran down to the cottage 
 where the rector was. Her story was soon told. The 
 look on the face of the Reverend Snavely did not tend 
 to reassure her. The man sensed something more than 
 mere caprice in the flight of the girl. What had Dan 
 done? But there was scanty time for ruminating. It 
 was already late in the afternoon. In several hours at 
 most dusk would envelop the mountains. The rector
 
 244 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 moved quickly. In a short time he had gathered the 
 boys, Dan making an unwilling member of the searching 
 party, though he could not meet the inquiring eyes of the 
 rector. 
 
 " Ah," he grumbled, " all this fuss and while we're 
 off she'll come strolling to the cottage and laugh at us 
 for a pack of fools." 
 
 " Would you like to spend the night alone in the hills ? " 
 asked the man so quietly that Dan flushed and said, 
 " Come on, I'm ready." 
 
 Prepared with lanterns and flash-lights the rescue 
 party started off. Doubtless many of the cottagers won- 
 dered at the strange procession but they were not en- 
 lightened. Mrs. Roth persuaded the rector to keep the 
 matter quiet unless it became imperative to call upon 
 others for assistance. The little party crossed the picnic 
 grounds, the railroad, then struck into the woods. Up, 
 up led the trail to the lair of the maidenhair ferns, 
 through aisles of sylvan beauty. Great monarchs of the 
 mountains towered over them, the green of August 
 springing luxuriantly covered every corner with loveli- 
 ness. But they had no eyes for the beauties of the woods 
 then. Even Dan began to feel the loneliness and utter 
 isolation of the woodland depths. 
 
 When they reached the place where two trails branched 
 away from the main one they had followed the rector 
 decided te split the party. 
 
 " It would be best to go several ways. Two of you 
 follow the one to the right and one take the left-hand 
 road for that leads to the lake after a long winding and 
 won't be so lonely for one to go alone. I'll follow this 
 main trail to the maidenhair place." 
 
 " Aren't you afraid ? "
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 
 
 " No. I have a gun in my pocket. In case you find 
 her hello. But if I find some trace of her and think I'm 
 on the right track I'll keep on till dark overtakes me. If 
 I find her I'll fire the gun. I really think, though, there's 
 more chance of your finding her on the lower trails as 
 she'd naturally go down hill if she became lost. I know 
 the lay of the land fairly well up there for I've tramped 
 all over it. I'm hoping some of us will find her before 
 dusk. Of course there is little danger from any wild 
 beasts, but it's creepy to be lost in the woods at night. 
 Well, boys, go on till you think dusk is coming then get 
 back to the cottage. Good luck ! " 
 
 So the boys followed the directions of the rector while 
 he plodded up the steep path to the place where the ferns 
 grew. He paused there a time, noted the trampled ferns 
 and broken branches of interfering shrubbery. A huckle- 
 berry plant flat upon the ground pointed to the direction 
 the girl had taken from the fern bower. But the trail 
 was hard to follow. It led straight through the densest 
 portions of the woods, down hill over a sloping portion 
 whose precipitous descent had helped the girl in conceal- 
 ment. 
 
 " That boy scared her ! " the rector exclaimed. " I'd 
 like to know what sort of a fool he made of himself ! " 
 
 It was, indeed, like the renowned search for a needle 
 in a haystack. Once he found the imprint of a woman's 
 shoe in the soft mold. He hailed it with delight. For a 
 stretch he was able to follow her trail by the footprints 
 planted into the dark earth. It was drawing him deeper 
 into the woods. He wished he had brought the others up 
 there and then sent them into other directions, for he was 
 almost certain she had gone into the woods far away 
 from the trails he had sent them to follow. Yet, who
 
 246 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 knew where her wanderings would lead her! Accord- 
 ing to the evidence before the rector she was traveling 
 farther away from Mount Gretna every step. Once he 
 spied something white and stooped to pick it up. It was 
 a handkerchief with an embroidered S in one corner. 
 He tucked it into his pocket and kept on, confident he 
 was on the right trail. Yet the others might reach her 
 rather than he for he knew how many were the curves 
 of the trails. If by any chance she had turned and gone 
 down hill the boys might have found her but if she kept 
 on as she seemed to have done he would be nearest to 
 her. Frequently he called loudly, but no response greeted 
 him. Dusk began to settle in the woods and still he kept 
 on going. He felt sure he was on the proper trail, though 
 his frequent hellos met with only the mournful echo of 
 the woods. 
 
 " Sarah ! " he called, but the forest swallowed her name. 
 
 He kept on, his lantern lighted and swung low to search 
 for traces of her going. He found them at intervals, 
 prints of her shoes in the loam of the woods, and he 
 blessed the spongy nature of the soil. Broken, trampled 
 plants greeted him at other places and he clung to the 
 hope that they had been trampled by Sarah, not by any 
 woodland creature. Then darkness came and with it an 
 uneasy feeling that perhaps he had missed the trail after 
 all. He could see no more prints in the ground ; it sud- 
 denly became covered thickly with leaves and low shrub- 
 bery. He confessed himself entirely uncertain as how to 
 go. But he felt he could not go back. He had followed 
 her so far and going back would mean losing the scent. 
 He resolved to spend the night in the woods and wait for 
 daybreak to continue the search. In the light he stood 
 more chance to discover new clews. So the rector se-
 
 MOUNT GRETNA 247 
 
 lected a sheltered place under a tree, broke off branches 
 of pine and made a bed, then stretched out in the green 
 nest, pulled other branches over him. The night had 
 brought chilliness on the hills and a blanket would not 
 have been amiss. The man closed his eyes but not to 
 sleep. A thousand worries plagued him like devils 
 how was the girl faring, what shelter had she from the 
 cold? Had the others found her? Was she scared or 
 hurt or still tramping hopelessly farther into the maze 
 of trees? 
 
 Once he stopped short to ask his heart why the plight 
 of the .girl was so much concern to him. Was it mere 
 humanitarianism for a friend in distress, was it wholly 
 pity and a desire to rescue from discomfort that urged 
 him to spend the night in the open and then go on until 
 he should find the lost girl? 'But the riddle of his heart 
 received no solution that night. When the. first streaks 
 of dawn invested the trees with a gray ghostliness he 
 jumped from his bed, shook the pine needles from his 
 clothes, and started off for new clews to lead him to the 
 girl.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 
 
 WHEN Sarah ran from the kiss of Dan Roth she 
 seemed impelled by a force over which she had no con- 
 trol. Anywhere to get away from that look in his eyes 
 and the hot sacrilege of his touch on her lips! She 
 struck into the wildest part of the woods expecting that 
 he would see and follow her and subject her to further 
 humiliation. She glanced back in terror and was amazed 
 to find that the kindly bushes had hidden her. She could 
 not see Dan and reasoned that he therefore could not see 
 her. Then she crept cautiously on her hands and knees 
 farther away from him, hiding behind giant trunks, curv- 
 ing her direction a trifle so that she kept behind the place 
 where they had come for ferns. She heard him calling 
 and moved from the sound of his voice. Fainter and 
 fainter grew his calls and she thanked heaven that he had 
 taken the wrong direction. But she still kept on, low on 
 the ground, which accounted for the trampled bushes 
 which had helped the rector. After what seemed ages 
 to her she raised herself and stood still. All was quiet 
 about her. She was in the heart of a thick woods, no 
 trail or path in sight, only an unbroken forest that stood 
 majestically all around her. 
 
 " Oh," she breathed, " what a place ! But how am I 
 going to get out of it? " 
 
 In her terror she had taken no account of the turns 
 and twists she had made, following only the least tangled
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 249 
 
 course through the woods, and making numerous turns 
 that completely shut her from any knowledge of the di- 
 rection in which Mount Gretna and its haven cottage lay. 
 She went on until she thought it must be just ahead, but 
 no path came in sight. It was dusk, she was tired and 
 hungry and lost ! The consciousness of the fact pierced 
 her mind. Lost she repeated the word. Her face 
 blanched for an instant lost in the mountains the 
 words were pregnant with terror and nameless fear. 
 She was afraid to call for Dan. Perhaps he was still 
 lurking about, perhaps other fugitives were in those hills 
 what could she do! She stood still and pondered, a 
 feeling of helplessness possessing her. As she stood so 
 a small rabbit bounded out of the bushes close to her. 
 .He froze at sight of her, then turned and hopped into the 
 woods again, his white cottontail bobbing like a ball. 
 
 Sarah laughed. " There," she said to herself, " if a 
 -tiny bunny isn't afraid in these woods I shouldn't be! 
 I guess there are no wolves or lions or their like here 
 to eat me up. It's getting dark and I can't think of any- 
 thing better to do than wait until the lights are out and 
 then climb a tree and look for Mount Gretna. If I were 
 a girl scout or an Indian I'd know how to get out of 
 this, I suppose. But I don't seem able to remember any- 
 thing I learned about the woods from Miss Hughes ex- 
 cept that the moss grows on the north side of the trees. 
 But heaven only knows whether Mount Gretna is north 
 or some other direction from here. I'm the dumbest 
 thing when it comes to direction. I lose myself as easily 
 as a baby. But I'm not lost. I'm like the Indian who 
 was lost but said, ' Indian not lost, wigwam lost ! ' I'm 
 not lost, Mount Gretna's lost! Poor Mount Gretna, it's 
 too lovely a place to be lost ! " She smiled. " But I'll
 
 250 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 find it in the morning." So, with the indomitable will of 
 her ancestors, a strong strain both paternally and ma- 
 ternally, she decided to make the best of the situation 
 and refrain from hysteria. " I'm lost no, I mean Mount 
 Gretna's lost and I can't find it right away so I'll have 
 to stay where I am. I'm afraid to sleep on the ground." 
 The old saying of her childhood came to her " I ain't 
 afraid of nobody nor nothin' but snakes ! " It still held 
 good. She feared crawly things as much as in those 
 early days. " I'll have to look around for a tree I can 
 climb and roost there, then I guess I'll be a rooster." 
 She laughed at her feeble wit, making the experience as 
 much of a lark as she could. 
 
 The place where she halted was closely set with oaks 
 looming dark in the swift-gathering night. About the 
 trunk of one was twined a wild grape-vine that reached 
 high into the branches and had sent out tendrils, across 
 to other trees, forming a natural swing of green. Sarah 
 tried the swing; it bore her weight without sagging 
 greatly. She gripped it firmly and was soon in the lowest 
 branch of the oak, with the vine of the grape forming a 
 green back for her comfort. 
 
 "There," she said as she settled herself in a crotch, 
 trying to find the softest spot in the tree and pulling some 
 of the luxuriant vines for a cushion, then twining some 
 about her neck and shoulders to keep out the cold wind 
 that rustled through the woods. Once a pair of black 
 eyes regarded her curiously and a striped chipmunk 
 looked out from behind the shelter of a neighboring tree 
 as though to ask the reason of such intrusion in his grape 
 haunt. But Sarah laughed at him and pulled some of the 
 wild grapes from the vine and ate them. 
 
 " I'm hungry ! I've been so flabbergasted I forgot
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 251 
 
 about it, but I am hungry! If I can't find the way out 
 in the morning I'll have to be like Elijah. But I could 
 eat grapes. I wouldn't starve. There are grapes and 
 grapes and I guess I would grow tired of a diet of 
 just grapes ! " 
 
 The sleepy cheep of birds was all she heard in the tree. 
 By and by that, too, was hushed and silence reigned in 
 the forest. When the stars came out she climbed farther 
 up; perhaps she could see lights and find her bearings. 
 But though she mounted branch after branch she could 
 not reach the top of the oak by many feet and all she 
 could discern was more trees and more trees until her 
 heart sank. 
 
 " I'll climb back nearer the ground for there I feel less 
 keenly that I am lost. Up here " her lips trembled 
 " I'll just have to stay here all night. Perhaps I'm a 
 short distance from the cottage, perhaps miles." 
 
 She crept back to her grape-vine once more so soon 
 it had become a blessed refuge. There she settled as 
 comfortably as possible in the broad crotch and waited 
 for dawn. She was afraid to sleep ; her hold on the tree 
 was none too solid. With sleep might come a tumble 
 into the grass and perhaps upon a sleeping snake. The 
 very thought sent shivers up and down her back. So 
 she sat all night wide awake, nodding at times, drawing 
 her thin dress closely about her and wishing for some 
 magic power to transform the grape leaves into blankets. 
 She was tired and hungry and cold and unhappy and all 
 because she had run away from Dan Roth in a moment 
 of wild fright. Dan Roth was the fault of her predica- 
 ment Dan, the son of the woman who thanked God her 
 family had no black sheep ! Sarah's attitude toward that 
 family was none too pleasant during that night. If Dan
 
 252 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 had been within reach of her he would have undoubtedly 
 suffered more than a slap upon the mouth. But Dan was 
 safe in his cottage while she clung to the wild grape-vine 
 in an oak tree. 
 
 At times the funny side of the situation demanded her 
 attention and she laughed. " I'm up a tree, for sure," 
 she thought. But the next minute she would shiver and 
 tremble and wish all sorts of bad luck upon the one who 
 was responsible for her discomfort. 
 
 " And yet," she confessed, " I guess I'm getting just 
 what I deserve. I just ran around with Dan and was 
 nice to him because his mother hates me so. Serves me 
 right, what I got ! " 
 
 Never was the dawn welcomed so cordially by Sarah 
 as that morning. The light came slowly into the fastness 
 of the forest, but it came none the less surely. First a 
 dull gray crept into the woods, then the light filtered 
 through the canopy of leaves and Sarah could see the 
 dim outlines of the bushes under the trees. With the 
 first glimmer of light the birds began their morning songs. 
 To Sarah, who found delight in the feathered friends, 
 the chorus was a joy long to be remembered, even above 
 the terror and discomfort of the night. A whistling cat- 
 bird started the song and was quickly followed by a 
 medley of other bird-voices that roused the curiosity of 
 the listener in the tree. 
 
 "What bird is that? Oh, that's a new song!" fell 
 from the lips of the girl. " Glory, how sweet ! " 
 
 Dawn in the forest was delightful, she thought, and 
 almost made up for the night spent in the crotch of an 
 oak. Warblers and vireos poured forth their limpid notes 
 of joy, thrushes added their sweetness to the music, a 
 screaming jay forever picking a quarrel sounded the only
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 253 
 
 discordant note in the chorus, tie flew close to Sarah's 
 tree and flashed his blue gorgeousness about with seem- 
 ing unconcern of her presence. 
 
 Underfoot the earth seemed to waken too with the 
 light. Squirrels scampered across the weeds, a big brown 
 butterfly rose from a flower where he had doubtless spent 
 the night, a few vagrant bees started off on their round 
 of daily toil. Sarah climbed from the tree and looked 
 about her. Which way to go to reach the cottage ? 
 
 She picked a handful of wild grapes and ate them, 
 thinking how monotonous grape diet would become if 
 indefinitely resorted to. In spite of her uncomfortable 
 position in the tree she felt ready to tramp anew; her 
 heart beat with fresh courage. Dawn brought to her 
 some of its magic, invigorating power. Of course she 
 could not be many miles from Mount Gretna! The 
 mountain was not so huge that she could not find an 
 outlet soon! 
 
 " I'll just keep on going and trust to luck," she thought 
 as she stood ready to resume her search for the home- 
 ward trail. She reasoned that if the road she had taken 
 the previous night had been the right one she would have 
 reached familiar places, so she might as well start out in 
 a different direction. She had passed the mammoth oak 
 the previous night now which way? Then she remem- 
 bered one of the tricks of Red Rose Court used by the 
 urchins to find lost marbles and so forth she solemnly 
 opened her left hand and spat into it, then clapped into 
 it the forefinger of the right hand. It was an unfailing 
 guide, she had thought in those Red Rose Court days, 
 and now, though grown above superstition, she resorted 
 to the old method and gravely set out in the direction 
 indicated by the test.
 
 254 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 It was still early morn, the daylight not yet full, but so 
 eager was she to find the way back that she set out gladly 
 in the dimness. What had they thought at the cottage? 
 Had they feared for her ? But, pshaw ! There were none 
 to actually worry about her. None in that little group 
 cared whether she were lost or not. They might feel 
 curious about her, worried for what the world would 
 say if any harm befell her while with them, but real 
 worry for her own sake that was out of the ques- 
 tion! Sarah laughed to keep from crying as she went 
 along. 
 
 "Why did this have to happen?" she asked herself. 
 " Just when Mary Becker and some of the girls were 
 beginning to act as though they liked me I had to go 
 spoil the whole thing. Of course they are so proper they 
 are shocked terribly at a girl who runs from a boy and 
 gets lost and spends the night alone in the woods! I 
 am marking up a list of black crosses after my name ! " 
 
 Then she thought of Dan. What had he told them? 
 Had he invented some ingenious tale? Oh, Dan would 
 look out for Dan every time ! She had no fear that he 
 would tell the reason of her flight. 
 
 As she tramped through the underbrush, her eyes keen 
 for snakes in the tangled weeds, a faint " Hello ! " came 
 to her. Her heart seemed to suspend action for a mo- 
 ment, a panic of fear seized her. She crouched in the 
 grass behind a clump of laurel whose glossy leaves hid 
 her effectually. All thought of snakes left her; a lurking 
 copperhead might have struck its fangs deeply in a death 
 blow as she knelt there, her ears strained for the sound 
 of that voice. 
 
 " Hello ! " It came nearer. Was that Dan's voice ? 
 
 " Hello ! Sarah ! " The voice was not Dan's ! A re-
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 255 
 
 laxation stole over the girl as she caught through the 
 bushes a glimpse of the rector. She rose and answered, 
 then stood by the laurel and swayed unsteadily. 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad it's you ! " she said as he ran down 
 the woodland aisle to her. 
 
 " Are you all right ? " His words came in breathless 
 anxiety. 
 
 She nodded her head; words seemed to be difficult to 
 utter. 
 
 " Perfectly all right ? " he insisted. 
 
 Quickly she regained her composure. " ' I'm clothed 
 and in my right mind,' " she quoted. 
 
 The man laughed in relief. The search was ended, he 
 had found Sarah! "How, why did it happen?" he 
 asked as they started off through the woods. 
 
 " Am I far from Mount Gretna ? " she evaded. 
 
 " Just about two miles and in the heart of the woods. 
 How did it happen ? " 
 
 " Didn't Dan tell you what did Dan tell you ? " 
 
 " He said you ran away from him and got lost." 
 
 " Well, I guess Dan knows as well as I do, so why 
 ask me the same thing ? " she answered, which was, he 
 felt, a polite way to tell him that further probing would 
 be useless. 
 
 " So long as you're all right " the man began, then 
 
 he looked away quickly. He was struggling hard not 
 to be drawn into that circle she and Love were drawing! 
 " Where did you spend the night ? " he asked. " At the 
 birds' inn?" 
 
 " No, the chipmunks'," she replied. Then she told him 
 of her supper of wild grapes and breakfast of wild 
 grapes, her rest in the tree, and she launched into a 
 description of the early chorus of the birds until the man
 
 256 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 felt relieved in knowing that the experience had not been 
 so harrowing for her as one might imagine. 
 
 "If some one had been with me it would have been 
 the greatest treat of my life ! " she ended. " To hear the 
 birds usher in the dawn in the forest is wonderful. To 
 be out under the stars all night is delightful ! " 
 
 " Yes. I have enjoyed those things. I slept many 
 nights under the open sky one summer in Colorado. It's 
 great great! You'd enjoy the mountains of the west 
 where we carry blankets and food and climb miles and 
 miles to the summit and see the sunset, then roll up in 
 the blanket and sleep under the stars until sunrise." 
 
 "Oh, I should enjoy that! I hope I'll get to see it 
 some day." 
 
 They went on silently a while then began to talk; she 
 thanking him for the rescue, he trying to make light of 
 it, and both at length turning to nature's boundless, in- 
 teresting subjects for relief from the strange embarrass- 
 ment that had foolishly touched them. 
 
 " I saw a tree up there blown by the storm," she told 
 him. " A big, green tree with thick trunk like the other 
 trees but when it was wrecked you could see that where 
 its heart should have been there was nothing but a big 
 vacant hollow." 
 
 " Yes " he drew the word out in that drawling, 
 
 inquiring way he had. Sarah flushed. What had made 
 her say that? As if she were trying to imply that he had 
 no heart oh, life was a complicated thing ! 
 
 She was glad when they reached a little mountain 
 brook and her perplexities of mind could be forgotten 
 while they talked of the clear waters and the sands show- 
 ing through the transparency. 
 
 Sarah sank to her knees, dipped her hand in the cold
 
 "I WON'T PRESS MINE," SHE SAID GAILY
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 257 
 
 water and drank from her cupped palm. He stood by 
 regarding the picture. Like a Narcissus bending over 
 the stream, he likened her. 
 
 "Oh," she startled him with her cry, "look!" She 
 pointed down stream to where a few sprigs of flaming 
 cardinal flowers stood like soldiers among the reeds and 
 grasses. Darting through the weeds she plucked two 
 branches of the rare crimson blossoms. " One for each 
 of us," she said, smiling, as she handed it to him. " This 
 says, ' Thank you, Reverend Snavely, for what you did 
 for me.' " 
 
 "Thank you!" He drew from his pocket a small 
 note-book and laid the scarlet flowers between the pages 
 as if to press them. 
 
 " I won't press mine," she said gaily. Then she tucked 
 the red flowers in her hair where they made a vivid 
 streak of color against the black of her locks. 
 
 All the rest of the way to the old trail the girl was 
 laughing and merry. It seemed to the man beside her 
 that some brightness of the very morning itself had been 
 caught by her and rang out in her infectious laugh. She 
 sobered as they entered the grounds where the cottages 
 stood. 
 
 " I forget," she confessed, " that not everybody in this 
 place has been out all night ! It behooves me to be sober 
 and dignified. I dare say I should assume a doleful ex- 
 pression and look at you with that ' Fond-hero-you 
 saved-my-life ' expression ! " 
 
 She checked her tongue as they passed a cottage where 
 an early riser was sweeping the porch. Doubtless the 
 two young people were thought of as lovers strolling out 
 to escape the maddening crowd. A warm smile followed 
 them as they passed.
 
 258 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 Mary Becker, the girl who had championed Sarah the 
 previous day, was sweeping the porch when Sarah and 
 the rector came in sight. As Sarah called, " Oo-oo ! " 
 Mary turned. The next moment her broom was thrown 
 aside and her arms twined about the neck of the lost girl. 
 
 " Sarah, I'm glad to see you safely back ! We thought 
 you were lost ! " 
 
 " Why " the demonstration was surprising to the 
 
 girl who had received so little in that line during her 
 eighteen years. " I was lost but Reverend Snavely found 
 me." 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad ! " Tears sprang to the eyes of the 
 girl. 
 
 " Why " Sarah looked at her, amazed. " I never 
 
 thought any one would care if I were lost, not really 
 care." 
 
 " But I do. I care very much, Sarah. You're the 
 dearest girl I know and I don't want to lose you just 
 when I come to my senses enough to appreciate you." 
 
 " Why, Mary Becker, it's worth living in the woods, 
 lost, a whole week to hear you say that ! I'd live on wild 
 grapes for more than one day to hear you tell me that I 
 really have a friend." 
 
 " Listen to her," said Mary to the rector ; " wouldn't 
 you know she's part Irish by the blarney of her ? " She 
 linked her arm affectionately in Sarah's. " Mrs. Roth 
 will be so relieved to know you are back. When Dan 
 and the boys got back last night without you she almost 
 had hysterics. We had a hard time keeping her from 
 sounding a general alarm and getting out the whole 
 colony to hunt for the lost girl. But so long as Reverend 
 Snavely did not come in and report failure we thought 
 it best to wait for morning. I couldn't sleep for won-
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 259 
 
 dering where you were. So I got up early and came out 
 to sweep the porch. I tell you there's nothing like stiff 
 sweeping and making the dust fly if you're worried or 
 cross, even if it isn't hygienic." 
 
 They laughed and a little later the rector went to his 
 own cottage and the girls entered theirs. 
 
 " She's here ! " called Mary up the stairs. 
 
 Soon Mrs. Roth and the girls ran down in negligee, all 
 eager to hear an account of the night in the woods. 
 
 When Sarah had finished her simple tale, in which she 
 had not divulged the cause of her flight from Dan, Mrs. 
 Roth looked skeptically at her. " So you slept in a tree 
 all night and Reverend Snavely was in the woods all 
 night too, you say um, a very thrilling adventure," she 
 said smugly. 
 
 Sarah was tempted to mete to her the same chastise- 
 ment Dan had received at her hands. But the girl merely 
 looked her squarely in the eyes and repeated, " Yes, we 
 were within less than half a mile of each other. If I 
 had known that I should have enjoyed the stars more." 
 
 The girl's calm, steady gaze should have warned the 
 woman but she went on heedlessly. " Well, all I can 
 say is I hope it doesn't get out in Fairview that you two 
 were out in the woods all night! It would spoil the 
 rector's reputation. Of course, if you were any other 
 girl, like Mary or one of the others, but with your " 
 
 " Mrs. Roth ! " cried Mary, hot indignation in her voice, 
 " how dare you speak to Sarah like that ! She is good 
 as any of us, better than most of us ! " 
 
 " Thank you, Mary," said Sarah, " but don't waste 
 time trying to convince Mrs. Roth that I'm all wool and 
 a yard wide. You know the old saying about a man 
 convinced against his will. But, Mrs. Roth," she faced
 
 260 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 the woman and her eyes gleamed dark, " I want to tell 
 you that you better not try to spoil the good name of 
 Reverend Snavely by linking it with mine and a night in 
 the woods! It doesn't matter for me I'd presumably 
 be * never the worse for a spot or two on my speckled 
 hide ' but don't you besmirch the name of that man ! If 
 you gossip about it in Fairview I well, I'll tell whole 
 Fairview why I ran away from Dan ! " And with that 
 to ponder she left Mrs. Roth and went up-stairs to wash 
 and to comb her hair, rather disreputable from its contact 
 with the grape-vines. 
 
 Later in the morning Dan came strolling to the girls' 
 cottage. He tried to look innocent and casually con- 
 cerned. 
 
 " Ho, Sarah," he greeted her as she sat in the swing 
 beside Mary, " I see you got back. Were you really 
 lost?" 
 
 " No," disclaimed the girl. " I wasn't lost, Mount 
 Gretna was lost." 
 
 That was too much for the youth to fathom, but he 
 breathed more easily Sarah wasn't going to tell after 
 all. She was rather a good sport even if she was squeam- 
 ish about a little thing like a stolen kiss. 
 
 But Dan found that even if the girl kept silent about 
 the adventure in the woods she had no further use for 
 him. He could never manage, contrive as he would, to 
 have one minute alone with her. Hang it, how was a 
 fellow to apologize when she built a wall about herself! 
 Sarah had no wish to hear any apology, all she desired 
 was to have Dan leave her alone. 
 
 The last days at Mount Gretna were uneventful. The 
 last one was occupied with packing in which Sarah en- 
 tered with good will. It was a blessing to have work to
 
 THE LOST COTTAGE 261 
 
 do when her heart ached, for the experience with Dan 
 had left its mark upon her. Her faith in human nature 
 was a bit shaken ; she felt humiliated and ashamed of her- 
 self for affording an opportunity for the boy's insult. 
 She would be more wary, less gullible. Never again 
 would she trust a man of Dan's calibre, she told herself. 
 Now the rector, he was different! How utterly gentle- 
 manly he had treated her as they had walked through 
 the silent woods to safety. 
 
 On the whole the vacation at Mount Gretna was one 
 long to be remembered by the girl whose first pleasure 
 trip it was. There she had gained the confidence of the 
 girls, secured a warm friend in Mary Becker, read an- 
 other page of weak human nature uncurbed by the su- 
 periority of spirit, learned to know the rector better and 
 appreciate his fine qualities anew as she looked at the 
 cottage for the last time she felt that she had learned 
 many things there. 
 
 Grandfather Burkhart greeted her with warm welcome. 
 
 " Hello, Sarah, so you got back once ! " he called to 
 her before she had entered the big house in Fairview. 
 " Well, I'm glad ! It was kinda lonesome here this while 
 past. I said to Sybilla yesterday that it's funny how 
 soon we get used to something and don't want to part 
 with it. Here you been with us just since April and 
 before that the place was still like a church and now 
 since you come it's lively and when you go off for a few 
 weeks we miss you." 
 
 " Oh, grandpap, did you miss me ? " 
 
 "Miss you? Yes." 
 
 " Like you'd miss a boil on the neck after it went 
 like that ? " she asked laughingly. 
 
 He laughed. Laughs were rare in his life. Sarah
 
 262 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 joined in his deep, throaty chuckle and even Sybilla 
 smiled at the girl's words. 
 
 " No, Sarah," he told her, " we missed you like we 
 miss the robins when they go away for the winter, didn't 
 we, Sybilla, Mary ? " 
 
 Sybilla nodded and Mary wiped her eyes on her apron 
 before she could speak. " Laws, Sarah, it was like a 
 cemetery round here. I was for borrowing Mrs. Felker's 
 polly, only they say it swears so ugly still." 
 
 Sarah laughed and her eyes shone. She was missed 
 then! Oh, her circle was closing up! The girls had 
 been drawn into it, grandpap and Aunt Mary were in- 
 side, and Aunt Sybilla might be near enough to get 
 hauled in at a moment's notice. 
 
 " Love and I had the wit to win 
 We drew a circle that took him in." 
 
 She loved them so much they had to love her !
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A DISCOVERY 
 
 WHEN Sarah returned from her vacation at Mount 
 Gretna she found her grandfather had decided to turn 
 many of his private affairs of the office over to her. 
 He came to depend upon her more and more, greatly to 
 the chagrin of Dan Roth who had longed for a greater 
 interest in the business at some future day. There was 
 no male heir to the Burkhart family, he reasoned, and 
 some day the old man would want to shift the burden. 
 Then if a capable young man happened to be employed 
 in the office there might be a chance of advancement. 
 But the coming of Sarah had changed some of the plans 
 of old Jeremiah Burkhart. Sarah might marry some day 
 and her husband take over the hardware business, so it 
 would be well for her to become acquainted with some 
 of the routine of the office. 
 
 Since the death of the girl's father the old man was 
 devoted to Sarah. The dark-haired, gray-eyed girl could 
 have twisted him about her finger like a supple string. 
 Of course she was a Burkhart but he had to confess there 
 was strong evidence of her mother's blood in her per- 
 sonality. And that mother had been an actress and 
 dancer. Old Jeremiah could not reconcile the old knowl- 
 edge with new opinions. Some of the things about which 
 he had been so sure all his life were beginning to be hazy 
 with doubts. Was it possible that a person could dance, 
 follow the vain things of the world, and yet be endowed
 
 264 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB. 
 
 with so many sterling qualities that the child born to 
 her would be like Sarah ? Were not all dancers followers 
 of Satan ? He had believed they were. He remembered 
 some of the things his son had revealed to him during 
 those intimate soul- communing days before death ended 
 the revelations. Jeremiah junior had told of the Irish 
 actress wife, her gentleness, kindness, goodness and 
 staunch devotion to him. Surely, Sarah bore evidence 
 of noble qualities that the weak-willed father could not 
 have transmitted to her. Old Jeremiah was perplexed as 
 he tried to puzzle out the world-old riddle. He felt satis- 
 fied that his faith was sufficient unto him, that the plain, 
 severe ways of the Mennonites were wholesome and 
 worthy of emulation, but for the first time in his life he 
 wondered whether the conduct of persons outside the 
 sect might be wholly commendable. The man who had 
 been hemmed in by one narrow horizon was looking be- 
 yond it and seeing a world of good outside the lines he 
 had drawn. Had he been narrow and selfish? Certainly 
 he could never indulge in any worldly pleasures, but was 
 that sufficient reason for marking them sins ? Was there 
 good in everybody and wickedness in the most pious? 
 He, who had prided himself for years upon his square 
 dealing with his fellow men, had been unfair to his own 
 son. He who had been unimpeachable in the matter of 
 outward observances of his religion had failed to practice 
 charity and mercy. The spirit of catholicity stirred in 
 him. What a self-satisfied old sinner he had been when 
 he deemed himself so righteous as to be qualified to 
 arbitrate the destiny of his son ! Now, since that girl of 
 the slums and reformatory had come to him and taught 
 him the meaning of the word forgive, along with in- 
 numerable other valuable lessons, he could discern good
 
 A DISCOVERY 265 
 
 in the most wretched offenders against all laws of man 
 and God. 
 
 It reminded him of the story Mary once told about a 
 town character, an old woman who went to every funeral 
 in and near Fairview and always said something to the 
 credit of the deceased. One day a miserable wretch 
 died, so miserable that none could think of any good 
 quality the optimistic old lady could employ as a last 
 eulogy. Some curious ones lingered near the casket as 
 the old woman came to look at the dead and speak her 
 good word. She gazed long into the still face, then 
 turned to the group who waited for the words and said, 
 " Poor Joe ! He always was such a good whistler ! " It 
 was true ! They remembered then how in the years gone 
 by the man's cheery whistle had floated on the air and 
 often inspired and heartened them. 
 
 Old Jeremiah did much thinking those days. The 
 death of his son and the coming of Sarah had opened his 
 eyes to truths hidden from him for years. But the trou- 
 bles under which he had passed left their stamp upon 
 him. He stooped and looked older. The weight of busi- 
 ness seemed to be growing heavy and he welcomed the 
 opportunity to initiate Sarah into the secrets of hardware 
 and give more and more of his affairs into her hands. 
 
 The responsibilities thus thrust upon the girl did not 
 dismay her, rather they filled her with pride. Her grand- 
 father trusted her ! 
 
 One day in September as she sat in the office looking 
 over some bills and making out a list of orders for her 
 grandfather's approval, a strange paper lay before her 
 eyes as she turned over a stack of order sheets. Dan 
 Roth had arranged the papers what had that one to do 
 with orders? It was a white sheet the same size as the.
 
 266 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 others, but its surface was covered with her grandfa- 
 ther's name. Some twenty copies of it were written 
 closely, one under the other, copy-book style, Jeremiah 
 Burkhart. At first glance she thought it her grandfa- 
 ther's handwriting, then she looked more closely. It was 
 a clever, successful attempt to copy the writing of the 
 owner of the hardware store ! Who had done it ? Who 
 but Dan? A great suspicion woke in her heart. Had 
 Dan tried to write like her grandfather? For what pur- 
 pose? The paper fell from her hand. She was grateful 
 that Dan was not in the office. She must hide it before 
 he returned. But she sat and looked at it dumfounded. 
 The writer had had difficulty with the old-fashioned 
 script of Jeremiah Burkhart's day. The curly B was 
 hard to copy and the slant writing had been almost im- 
 possible to do well Dan wrote vertical writing. The 
 last names at the bottom of the page were remarkably 
 like the signature of the old man. Oh, what had she 
 stumbled upon ? Was Dan daring to but no ! He was 
 a silly young boy who needed some hard bumps to bring 
 him to his senses but surely he would not be guilty of 
 forgery! What an ugly word! She shivered at the 
 thought of it. Determined to keep watch over the boy 
 she stuffed the paper into her blouse and applied herself 
 to the bills and orders. " I'll keep two eyes on Dan 
 Roth," she decided. " He needn't think he can cheat my 
 grandfather! He'll stand watching, I'm thinking." 
 
 She took the incriminating paper home and placed it 
 in her bureau drawer. " Now for some Sherlock Holmes 
 shrewdness," she told herself. 
 
 Dan did not discover the loss of the paper. He had 
 made many such attempts to copy the name, then torn 
 them into shreds. But he wondered why Sarah looked
 
 A DISCOVERY 267 
 
 at him so keenly when he returned to the office. " Ah," 
 he thought complacently, " guess she's coming round ! 
 Give her time and she'll be eating out of my hand. She's 
 deuced good-looking but as proud as Lucifer." How- 
 ever, he liked girls with spirit, ones you had to fight to 
 get. Not that he wanted to marry her far from it! 
 Though, when he came to think about it, she would be 
 a good catch for she would some day inherit all the 
 Burkhart money. She was the last of that family and 
 Fairview said Jeremiah was one of its richest men. No, 
 he wouldn't think of marrying her, the little wildcat! 
 How she stung his face that day in the woods ! But he'd 
 get even some day. He'd make her like him and then trot 
 off and forget her. He could dance and not pay the 
 piper. Of course he would have to be careful not to 
 make the old man doubt him for he wanted to hold on to 
 the position in the office. He would have to walk cir- 
 cumspectly to please the old man. Pshaw! Only for 
 that he'd pay back that upstart who acted as though a 
 Roth were not good enough for her! He'd try to make 
 her care for him, though, to save his pride. 
 
 However, Sarah gave him no encouragement. Every 
 overture for friendliness she met with cool indifference, 
 until he became more and more eager to win her friend- 
 ship. His mother was pleased by the girl's refusal to 
 have any semblance of friendship with Dan, yet she, too, 
 resented Sarah's haughty scorn of Dan. What a shame, 
 thought Mrs. Roth, that all the Burkhart money would 
 go to a girl like that! If she were a different type Dan 
 might have feathered his nest very nicely by marrying 
 her. But much as Mrs. Roth liked money and little as 
 she had at her command, she felt that ambitions would 
 be gratified at too costly a price if the money were se-
 
 268 
 
 cured by Dan's marriage with the daughter of a convict. 
 She still thanked heaven that her family was free from 
 such taints. She hoped Sarah would never care for him. 
 
 Mrs. Roth might have spared herself any disquietude 
 on that subject. Sarah had no intentions of angling for 
 Dan. In fact she regretted deeply any former friendli- 
 ness for she knew that what had happened she had 
 brought upon herself. " I ran around with Dan to get 
 his mother's goat and the goat turned and butted me," 
 she thought whimsically. 
 
 Then, too, the girl had other things to claim her at- 
 tention. Since her return from the mountains her days 
 had been filled so full that she felt certain she was, at 
 last, experiencing all the thrills and busy times other 
 girls knew. Working in the store and office, helping in 
 the house and garden, during the long autumn days, the 
 hours were all too short. Sometimes when evening came 
 Mary Becker and a few of the other girls stopped and 
 asked her to go for one of the long walks round the town 
 or they stopped at the home of one of the crowd and sat 
 in friendly fashion on the porch and laughed and ex- 
 changed confidences as she had so longed to do during 
 those first days of her ostracism. Every Saturday after- 
 noon she accompanied one of the aunts "up-town," which 
 meant in Fairview walking up the shaded streets to the 
 business section and buying provisions for the week-end. 
 When Sarah went along, a big basket on her arm, she 
 felt most important, though the packages in her basket 
 held such ordinary contents as coffee, dried beef or 
 cheese. At last she was sharing in a real home and each 
 detail of it was glorified in her eyes. 
 
 Since the return from Mount Gretna the Reverend 
 Snavely had an odd, puzzling way of being friendly one
 
 A DISCOVERY 269 
 
 day and distant the next. At times it hurt her. Had 
 she fallen in his estimation since that day she was lost 
 in the woods? Why did he wear that air of cool aloof- 
 ness, that look of a desire to keep out of contact with 
 her? Then her old bravado came to her rescue and she 
 went about humming gay songs, laughing at nothings, not 
 daring to confess to herself that the songs were loudest 
 when the heart ached most. 
 
 However, sometimes the rector jumped across the 
 hedge and joined Sarah on the porch and then she im- 
 agined she could detect on his face an expression of 
 I-don't-care-I-had-to-come ! At such times Aunt Sybilla 
 did not welcome him very cordially. She was suspicious 
 and remembered Mrs. Roth's information that he had a 
 penchant for making love to girls then leaving them to 
 regret. The lonely girl from Sunset Mountain had en- 
 tered far enough into the affections of the grim old aunt 
 to claim her protection. She wasn't goin' to have any 
 'Piscopal preacher make a fool of her niece! Why had 
 the girl ever joined the 'Piscopal Church? Why did they 
 have to live next door to the preacher of it ? Heathenish 
 doin's they had in that church, just about like them 
 Catholics she heard a'ready! So Aunt Sybilla sat, a 
 silent, watchful guardian when the rector called. Their 
 conversation did not interest her. She wondered where 
 Sarah had learned to talk such funny things, all about 
 poetry and books and things nobody knew years ago. If 
 they had discussed the weather and crops and wondered 
 how much Felkers' new automobile cost or whether old 
 Dan Miller would get the electric lights put in his house 
 next fall like he promised his wife, then there would have 
 been some sense in sitting on a porch for three hours 
 talking. Sometimes they talked about religion and then
 
 270 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 the girl said things that made her aunt think a missionary 
 would not be amiss in the Burkhart home. For instance, 
 one day the girl said to the rector, " I think the biggest 
 hypocrites I ever knew were church people." 
 
 " Yes," agreed the man, " but remember, there never 
 was a counterfeit without a genuine." 
 
 Then Sarah looked thoughtful and admitted she had 
 no answer to that, and the preacher went on, " Don't you 
 know that the worst scamps in the world like to hide 
 behind the best things ? " 
 
 " Yes. I have been prejudiced. I am beginning to 
 understand some things that were dark to me." 
 
 Aunt Sybilla gasped then, for the man laid his hand 
 upon the girl's arm and said, " You are too fine to be 
 skeptical or cynical." The woman wondered why he 
 didn't use words abody could understand. 
 
 When October came with its cool days and fires the 
 girl in the big Burkhart house experienced another series 
 of thrills. It was delightful to run to the cellar and put 
 on drafts, call to Aunt Sybilla about the fires, and feel 
 she was needed. When they sat in the cozy sitting-room 
 by the lamp she discovered what an interesting com- 
 panion her grandfather could be. He had many stories 
 of his youth tucked away in his brain, stories that had 
 been handed down from other generations. Some were 
 about ancestors who had lived in Lancaster County dur- 
 ing the time of Indians, when massacres occurred and 
 the shotgun was kept within reach. Then of later days, 
 during the great Civil War, when the enemy soldiers had 
 reached the Susquehanna and the people fled in terror 
 past the old farmhouse in which they lived, fled in 
 Conestoga wagons with their worldly possessions and 
 children mixed promiscuously under the white canvas.
 
 A DISCOVERY 271 
 
 Each story of that sturdy pioneer stock was more charm- 
 ing to the girl than any colorful tale of Ulysses. They 
 were her people, from them she had sprung ! 
 
 When cold weather came Aunt Mary brought out a 
 popper and taught the girl how to make popcorn balls 
 and taffy after ancient recipes handed down from grand- 
 mothers long dead. Aunt Mary even manceuvered until 
 Sybilla gave her consent to a taffy pull in the Burkhart 
 kitchen. One night eight girls from the class came to 
 the kitchen that had never known such jollity for many 
 years and with the help of Aunt Mary pans of taffy were 
 cooked and then pulled until hands were blistered and 
 everything sticky. It was Sarah's first party and she 
 reveled in it. 
 
 Aunt Sybilla was the habitual wet-blanket. She 
 couldn't see the use " makin' such candy that sticks to 
 false teeth like shoemaker's wax. Now peppermints and 
 lemon drops were more fit to eat ! All she wanted was 
 that they should wash the tables right so the sticky mess 
 gets off!" 
 
 Sarah was having the time of her life those days and 
 she frankly admitted it to the three in the big house with 
 her. 
 
 " You are so good to me I won't ever want to go away 
 from here." 
 
 "Away! What made you think of such a thing?" 
 asked the old man. " Were you thinkin' of such a thing ? 
 Ain't this your home ? " 
 
 " I don't want to go, but don't you ever get tired of 
 having me around ? " 
 
 " Ach, don't talk so dumb ! " came Aunt Sybilla's crisp 
 command. " I guess now we got used to you we want 
 to keep you, till you get married, anyhow."
 
 272 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Married ! " echoed the grandfather. " Any boys 
 sneakin' round here and I don't know it ? " 
 
 " No," Sarah hastened to assure him. " Dan Roth is 
 the only boy in Fairview who ever talks to me except 
 passing the time, and he's not the kind I like. But I'm 
 not wanting any beaus. I'm too happy having you people 
 to think about such things. Haven't I two aunts and a 
 grandpap ? What more could I want ? " 
 
 " Yes, but wait once," Aunt Mary shook her head 
 wisely, " old aunts are all right, but when that nice young 
 man comes along that's the right one we won't count." 
 
 So Aunt Mary knew something about romance after 
 all, decided the girl. She had taken it for granted that 
 the woman had never had any love affairs. And yet 
 could a woman who had never known the softening in- 
 fluence of love with all its humanizing tenderness have 
 in her bosom a heart like that Aunt Mary constantly re- 
 vealed ? 
 
 " Aunt Mary," she asked her when they were alone, 
 " tell me about your romances." 
 
 " Ach why " a flush crept across her face, a ten- 
 der smile as if she were drawing from years long dead a 
 precious treasure. " I haven't much to tell. Only once 
 did I like a man, a nice one he was and we would have 
 been happy. But just when we were promised your 
 Jerry went away and then mom died and Sybilla had 
 her trouble and I said I didn't see how I could go off 
 and be married and be happy and let pop and Sybilla 
 alone in this big house and so much trouble with them. 
 So we said we'd wait a while till things got a little set- 
 tled. Then the next year he got the typhoid from bad 
 water where he boarded down the country and he died. 
 I always blamed myself thinking that if we'd married
 
 A DISCOVERY 1273 
 
 he wouldn't boarded there and mebbe would be Hvin' yet. 
 But abody can't know what's the best to do sometimes." 
 
 "Aunt Mary ! " Sarah twined her arm about the neck 
 of the woman and drew the white-capped head down for 
 a kiss. " Here I was thinking you never had any trouble 
 and you had the real one and it left you sweet and kind, 
 while Aunt Sybilla " 
 
 " Sh, Sarah ! It ain't nice to talk about poor Sybilla, 
 for not everybody can take trouble the same way." 
 
 " No, it takes a big heart to meet it like you did ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 COALS OF FIRE 
 
 As the Christmas season drew near Sarah could have 
 shouted her joy aloud through the streets of Fairview. 
 Everything seemed to be working together for her happi- 
 ness ; no clouds marred her days. Aunt Mary and Aunt 
 Sybilla began making delicious cookies and cakes in such 
 quantities that some of the baking was done at night and 
 Sarah found time to help. As she stood elbow deep in 
 flour and rolled the cookies and pressed shellbark kernels 
 into them she was happier than she had ever been before. 
 She was anticipating many thrills as she looked forward 
 to Christmas morning when those same cookies would 
 be placed in baskets and carried through the frosty 
 streets to numerous friends and relatives, or needy ones 
 to whom the aunts were Lady Bountifuls on Christmas 
 day. 
 
 The matter of presents for the family engrossed her 
 attention and afforded many hours of exciting contem- 
 plation. Grandfather should have a big box of chocolates 
 of the finest she could buy in Lancaster. Aunt Sybilla 
 should be presented with a bottle of perfume, having one 
 day confessed she always wanted some but considered it 
 a sinful waste of money. Aunt Mary would find at her 
 plate Christmas morning a hand-colored picture of her 
 mother to place on her bureau. She had seen one in the 
 town and wished she could have their mother's done like 
 that and put in a gilt frame.
 
 COALS OF FIRE 275 
 
 The girl planned it with little flutterings of the heart. 
 She would give them things they wanted white hya- 
 cinths for once! Her earnings in the store had been 
 saved, part of them placed in bank and marked in the 
 little book duly inspected and approved of by the aunts 
 and grandfather. But each week the girl had kept from 
 her pay some portion of it to spend on little things dear 
 to the heart of femininity. Recently she had pared down 
 on those personal expenditures so that when she counted 
 the amount reserved for gifts she found fifty-five dollars. 
 " Hooray ! that means I can buy all the things for my 
 people, send a box to Mrs. Maloney, a gift to Miss 
 Hughes, and still have some money left to get those new 
 shoes Aunt Sybilla says I must buy. This is going to 
 be the gladdest, merriest Christmas I have ever known! 
 I won't need any one to ' call-me-early,-mother-dear/ 
 I'll be up before daylight." 
 
 But Sarah Burkhart reckoned without fate! 
 
 The very day before she intended to take the im- 
 portant shopping trip to Lancaster she was alone in the 
 office. Grandfather was at home with a slight cold. 
 Sarah had been given directions about some banking 
 business to be attended to and other urgent matters and 
 had bent over her desk all morning to dispose of the 
 work. Some canceled checks were on hand for filing; 
 she looked them over, and a cry escaped her. Quickly 
 stifling it with a cough she made sure that no person was 
 watching her and then bent over the check in her hand. 
 It was made out in favor of Dan Roth, fifty dollars, 
 signed by Jeremiah Burkhart, endorsed and cashed. But 
 the signature of Jeremiah Burkhart was the same as that 
 on the practice sheet she had discovered and kept. It 
 had passed the observant bank employee and would have
 
 276 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 passed her if the memory of that sheet in her bureau 
 drawer were not fresh in her mind. 
 
 The demon of revenge that sleeps in every human 
 heart awoke and exulted and danced. Here was a chance 
 to humiliate Mrs. Roth ! Her Dan, her boasted Dan, was 
 a forger ! No longer could she look sanctimoniously up- 
 ward and thank heaven there was no criminal in her 
 family. Sarah tucked the check in her waist. She 
 nodded her head in satisfaction and thought, " I guess 
 people like Mrs. Roth get their comeuppance if we wait 
 long enough." 
 
 When Dan came into the office, in a flurry of eagerness 
 to finish the work as soon as possible and be free for the 
 holidays, the girl looked at him while he bent over his 
 books. How young he was and attractive in a way! 
 His face was appealing in spite of the too-full lips. He 
 did not have the appearance of a criminal. Would he be 
 sentenced to the penitentiary the word chilled her to 
 the marrow. She had a vision of the place she had 
 visited to see her father. Would Dan be placed there or 
 in some similar building? What chance for manhood had 
 he after release from it? What would his mother do in 
 his absence ? " Ah," she tossed her head, " I don't care 
 what happens to either of them ! They have been rotten 
 to me and I'm going to pay them back ! I'll never have 
 another chance like this! The fates are with me this 
 time ! " She gloated over the prospect like a miser over 
 his gold. She'd take the check to Mrs. Roth and prove 
 what a son was hers, then she'd give it to her grand- 
 father and let him deal with the offender. 
 
 After supper she ran up to her room and compared the 
 writing on the check with that on the paper in her 
 drawer. There was the same little imperfection in the r,
 
 COALS OF FIRE 277 
 
 the indecision and wavering of the J, and in writing fifty 
 Dan had used an f unlike her grandfather's. Sarah 
 curled her lips " He's a dumb forger. I could have 
 done better than that ! " 
 
 She replaced the paper in the drawer and thought of 
 some errand to account to the inquisitive aunts for her 
 visit to the house across the street. 
 
 Dan and his mother were alone, sitting in the sitting- 
 room. The girl's heart sank a trifle as she glanced 
 through the windows into the lighted room and saw the 
 home picture of the two about the rose-colored lamp. 
 But her lips tightened next instant and she knocked at 
 the door. 
 
 Mrs. Roth's face frankly expressed wonder as Dan 
 ushered the visitor into the room. " You want to see 
 me?" 
 
 " You and Dan." 
 
 " Whew ! " whistled the boy boldly, " I suppose if dad 
 were living you'd include him sort of a family party, 
 eh!" 
 
 Sarah looked at him and scorned to answer his re- 
 mark, then she burst out boldly, " Dan Roth, why did 
 grandfather give you a check for fifty dollars ? " 
 
 The youth paled, then tried to bluff. " Oh," he said 
 convincingly, " he often does that. When there are little 
 bills to pay he writes a big check and I get it cashed and 
 then pay the bills, when they're to people in town." 
 
 "What do you mean?" said the mother indignantly. 
 " You dare to think that because your father did such 
 things my Dan would stoop to them? How can you in- 
 sinuate such a crime ! You better leave the house before 
 I show you where the carpenter left a hole! " 
 
 " Oh, no, I'm not going yet, I'm not through ! Dan
 
 Roth, perhaps grandfather does write checks to you but 
 he didn't write that one ! Some time ago you left one of 
 your practice sheets where it fell into my hands a very 
 imprudent thing to do ! I compared that with the check 
 and found them alike." 
 
 " Sarah ! " came the agonized cry of Dan, then he hung 
 his head. 
 
 " You better be scared ; forger isn't a very nice 
 word." 
 
 " Will you go ! " cried the mother frantically. " How 
 do you dare accuse Dan of such a thing ! " 
 
 " I have proof of it." 
 
 " Dan ! " But Dan could not meet the gaze of his 
 mother. 
 
 " The jig's up," he confessed. " I did do it." 
 
 " Dan ! " The mother gave one cry then sank back in 
 her chair. She didn't faint but all feeling seemed to flow 
 from her. No, it could never be true. Her boy could 
 not be guilty of such a thing! Her proud spirit was 
 crushed. " Dan, say it isn't true, that it's all a hideous 
 mistake ! " she implored. 
 
 " I can't, mother. I'm rotten ! It was the first one I 
 forged " 
 
 " Oh, don't use that dreadful word ! " 
 
 " Well," said Sarah with the cloying sweetness of a 
 fiend, " what will you thank heaven for now since you 
 lost your pet one about not having a criminal in the 
 family?" 
 
 " Sarah," the youth was wretchedly humble, " say any- 
 thing to me but don't be hard on mother. She's always 
 been so proud of me, bragged me up sky-high. This will 
 kill her." 
 
 " Um you should have thought of that sooner." The
 
 COALS OF FIRE 279 
 
 girl stood like an obdurate Nemesis. " Now " she ad- 
 dressed Mrs. Roth "you know how I felt when you 
 rubbed it in about my father." 
 
 " Oh, Sarah, I was rotten too ! I'm sorry forgive 
 me." 
 
 But Sarah stood rigid. She had no desire to forgive. 
 Some of the Burkhart stubbornness ruled her. " It's easy 
 to say forgive when you get in a pinch." 
 
 " But I mean it," the woman repeated. " I'm sorry for 
 everything I said about you. I want you to know that, 
 even if you don't believe it. If there'll be any satisfaction 
 to you to know that my heart is broken because of Dan 
 then you may have that satisfaction right now. Your 
 grandfather what does he think about it? After he 
 trusted Dan and was so good to him ! But I spoiled Dan 
 from a baby, I guess. He was all I had after his father 
 died and I spoiled him. What will your grandfather 
 do?" 
 
 Something seemed to break in Sarah's heart. " Why," 
 she said more gently, " he doesn't know about it." 
 
 Hope dawned for an instant in the tear-stained face of 
 the mother. " Then just you know about it? " 
 
 " Mother ! " cried Dan, guessing the mother's thoughts, 
 " don't ask Sarah to keep it from him ! After the rotten 
 way I've treated her no one can blame her for taking 
 the chance to get even." 
 
 " What do you think I am, Dan Roth ? " she flared, re- 
 senting their thinking her capable of doing the very thing 
 she had come to do ! Then there came to her the memory 
 of her father's wretchedness, the wasted years behind a 
 walled domain, the sorrow visited upon others because of 
 his sin. That memory weighed with all that was noble 
 in her nature and she turned to the boy and said, " If I
 
 280 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 don't tell will you promise to behave yourself and never 
 do such a thing again ? " 
 
 " Sarah! If you could do that ! But you're just teas- 
 ing me as a cat does a mouse." 
 
 " Um, much you know about me, Dan Roth ! You 
 Dutch never can understand the Irish! I guess if there's 
 one word I've learned the meaning of it's FORGIVE. You 
 promise what I ask and I'll fix things up so no one will 
 ever know it but we three." 
 
 " Sarah ! " Mrs. Roth grabbed the girl's hand. 
 
 " Come on," said the girl, wrenching loose and falling 
 into the slang of Red Rose Court, " let's get the thing 
 over before somebody butts in. Dan Roth, will you 
 promise to let other people's money where it belongs and 
 never be dishonest again or give your mother such a 
 scare ? " 
 
 " I promise." He put his hand on his heart. 
 
 " Good ! Here goes ! " She pulled the forged check 
 from her dress and held it before them. Then she walked 
 to the gas log and threw the paper into the flames which 
 speedily devoured it. 
 
 " Sarah," the woman faltered, " how can I thank 
 you?" 
 
 " By not thanking me at all. But perhaps some day 
 you'll meet another girl like me who has had a clouded 
 past and if you could be kind to her " 
 
 " Child, you're an angel ! " 
 
 " No, I'm not ! Angels have golden hair, not black 
 locks and freckles." For the first time that evening the 
 girl smiled. " I haven't got any wings sprouting on me 
 yet so you could notice them. I'll tell you the truth I 
 came over here determined to make you and Dan crawl 
 and then I meant to take that check straight to my grand-
 
 COALS OF FIRE 281 
 
 father and clap my hands while Dan got his punishment 
 and you suffered with him. Now you see I'm as bad as 
 anybody. It was only when you said something about 
 forgiving that I got my sense back." 
 
 " Sarah, I'll go straight after this. In these ten min- 
 utes I lived through all the horrors of twenty years in 
 jail. Your grandfather might discover it, though, then 
 what would happen ? " 
 
 " What he doesn't know won't hurt him. But we have 
 to fix his account at once. Have you the money to make 
 it good?" 
 
 Dan shook his head. " I spent it in Lancaster last 
 week. And mother was just saying before you came that 
 we have to economize until New Year when she gets 
 her next check. We spent everything for the holidays, 
 gifts, turkey and so on." 
 
 " I tell you, Dan, I have fifty I don't need now. I'll 
 put it to bank in grandfather's name and you can pay me 
 back when you get it." 
 
 " Say " there was a wholesome admiration and rever- 
 ence in his eyes as he looked at her "you don't do 
 things by halves, do you ? " 
 
 " No, I swallow the whole thing, bait, hook, line and 
 sinker ! " 
 
 " You're a wonder. I was a rotten brute that day at 
 Mount Gretna ! Mother, I grabbed Sarah and kissed her 
 and would have kissed her ten times more if she hadn't 
 run away from me ! Now you know what a contemptible 
 thing I've been ! But I'm cured, I'm going straight ! I'm 
 going to be what you thought I was, a son to be proud 
 of." 
 
 " Well, Dan Roth, you ought to be ! " spoke up Sarah. 
 "You have a mother to be proud of you or nurse a
 
 282 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 broken heart because of you. Don't you know how much 
 
 that means ? To have a mother if I had one " She 
 
 turned away and pressed back the tears. 
 
 Dan stepped up to her then and took her hands. 
 " Sarah, you are saving me from disgrace. I'll never for- 
 get it ! " He bent his head and lifted her hands to his 
 lips. Then he released them and looked at her, all his 
 earnest awakened young soul in his eyes. 
 
 " You're an angel ! " he told her. 
 
 She answered lightly to relieve the seriousness of the 
 moment. " If everybody keeps telling me I am one I'll 
 soon be thinking I'm dead ! We won't ever say anything 
 about this again; just hand me the fifty when you have 
 it and that's the end." 
 
 They would have detained her, smothered her with 
 thanks and incoherent murmurings of eternal devotion 
 for her goodness but she laughed them away and ran 
 from the house. In her heart was a lasting impression 
 of the divine quality of mercy. She felt sorry for the 
 two who still had the companionship of troubled con- 
 sciences. After all, she reflected, gossipers do themselves 
 more harm than those they gossip about. Dan and his 
 mother would have seared scars in their hearts for a 
 long time because of the boy's deviation from the straight 
 and narrow path. For the first time she felt sorry for 
 them and saw in them only human beings frail as others, 
 needing the help of other mortals, even her help. She 
 knew now the meaning of that phrase, " To err is human, 
 to forgive divine."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE HEART OF A RECTOR 
 
 THE Reverend James Snavely stepped upon the Roth 
 porch. Ever since his entering upon the duties of the 
 little parish in Fairview he had taken an interest in Dan, 
 along with other impulsive, heedless youths of the town. 
 He had encouraged Dan's natural love of reading and 
 from time to time had taken him books to enjoy. 
 
 After the manner of small town familiarity the rector 
 used the side-door entrance instead of formally ringing 
 the bell. That evening he hummed as he mounted the 
 steps. Christmas was in the air and the rector of St. 
 Paul's always felt the tugging of its eternal heart interest. 
 The windows of the Roth house attracted him. He 
 wished some of the residents of the town who lived be- 
 hind closed shutters as soon as evening fell would copy 
 Mrs. Roth and have their lights streaming out their cheer 
 on dark nights. Idly musing on that subject he stooped 
 a bit and glanced into the room without any intention of 
 spying, for Dan and his mother usually were alone at 
 that hour. What he saw as he stood by the open window 
 made him draw back as if struck by an unexpected 
 missile. By the light of the rose-shaded lamp he saw 
 Dan bending over the uplifted hands of Sarah Burkhart, 
 then print a kiss upon them. What did that mean? 
 Upon what romance had he inadvertently stumbled? 
 Dan and Sarah Sarah and Dan to care for each other ? 
 He could scarcely credit it, yet there they stood face to 
 face and the girl made no objection to the caress. Doubt-
 
 284 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 less the presence of Mrs. Roth prevented a more demon- 
 strative kiss. The rector walked away from the window, 
 down the steps and across the street to his own home. 
 He had no desire to enter that house then. The scene he 
 had witnessed left him trembling, dismayed, unhappy. 
 Fool that he had been ! He wanted Sarah, of course he 
 did! But he had been too blind to recognize love or, if 
 the truth be told, he had fought against confessing that 
 love. He had deliberately closed his heart to the heaven- 
 sent emotion. Fool, fool ! He condemned himself. Was 
 there ever a girl like Sarah, so sweet, tender, big- 
 hearted, so desirable ! He ran through the list of women 
 he knew they all paled beside the dark-haired, gray- 
 eyed Dutch-Irish girl whose father had been a convict 
 and she herself a child of the slums and reform school. 
 What did that matter, what did anything matter except 
 that he loved her ? And he had lost her by his slow, poky 
 ambling along. He had walked with Sarah, talked with 
 her, consoled and advised her, comforted her in sorrow, 
 and through all the blessed intimacy he had gone with 
 clay upon his eyes. Perhaps he might have won her love 
 if he had utilized his opportunities. If she could care for 
 that shallow Dan that hour the rector was more man 
 than minister and he wanted to run across the street and 
 snatch the girl into his arms and declare to the world 
 she was his by right of love! If she could come to care 
 for Dan surely she could have cared for him, a man of 
 finer development and understanding. How smug and 
 complacent he had been, how unmindful of the presence 
 of the little God of Arrows ! And then when he feared 
 the inroads of the Blind God how he had set up a barri- 
 cade of convention, fear of Mrs. Grundy, and false pride 
 to keep the miracle from his life! He dubbed himself
 
 THE HEART OF A RECTOR 285 
 
 an asinine fool as he entered the house and thought of 
 the radiant young lovers across the street. 
 
 An hour later he crossed the street once more. Mrs. 
 Roth greeted him and he noted that her face bore evi- 
 dences of recent tears; her eyes were red from copious 
 weeping. 
 
 " Can I help ? " he asked kindly. 
 
 " No, oh, no ! I have been crying but just tears of 
 joy. I'm so happy ! " 
 
 " I'm glad " never a preacher of the Gospel lied 
 
 more valiantly. He was not glad, his heart ached. Well 
 might she be happy if her son had conferred upon him 
 the honor of winning Sarah's love ! 
 
 " Yes, I'm so happy ! I wish I could tell you about it, 
 but I I promised Dan I would keep it a secret. But 
 it's him I'm happy about. I feel he is going to fulfil my 
 dreams about him and become a fine young man, one I 
 can be proud of. I'm so happy ! " She was almost bab- 
 bling in her relief from the anxiety about Dan. Her 
 heart was soft and her eyes welled with tears like those 
 of a lacrimose child. To have so dreadful a tragedy 
 averted by the mercy of Sarah was more than she had 
 expected. She had the gossip's respect for the noble, 
 altruistic conduct of others and, in spite of all her mean, 
 pernicious tongue and her love of lurid scandals, she 
 could appreciate what the girl had done. 
 
 " Oh," she said feelingly, " I want to tell you that I 
 think Sarah Burkhart is the dearest, finest girl I ever 
 met ! " 
 
 " Yes she is very fine." 
 
 " There ain't a word in the whole English language to 
 describe her ! " declared the mother effusively. " I thank 
 heaven she came to this town ! "
 
 286 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 The man suppressed a smile. In spite of his aching 
 heart he saw the humor of the words, remembered how 
 often Mrs. Roth had thanked heaven for lesser blessings. 
 What could have happened to turn her into so eager a 
 champion of Sarah? What, except that Dan and the 
 girl had come to an understanding in love and by some 
 magic the mother had been won from her antagonism 
 to an appreciation of the girl whose rare qualities and 
 personality where phenomenal in Fairview? 
 
 The rector left the book for Dan and went home, more 
 than ever convinced that his inference was well founded. 
 Then it was too late, forever too late, like the foolish 
 virgins' knock at the door ! 
 
 His unhappiness was not lessened the following day 
 when he was seated in his study preparing the sermon 
 for the coming Sabbath and Sarah's voice came to him 
 in song. He had heard her frequently since her arrival 
 at the house next door. Her voice was not more than 
 ordinarily sweet or strong, but it was tuneful and, like 
 her laugh, had a quality that attracted. The songs she 
 sang were generally merry, bubbling ones, but that day it 
 was a new note, the old one of pure romance and senti- 
 ment written by the inimitable Thomas Moore, " Believe 
 me if all those endearing young charms." 
 
 The man paused in the attempt to write a sermon. The 
 last words of the song rang into his consciousness with 
 the resonance of a silver bell : 
 
 " No, the heart that has truly loved, never forgets, 
 
 But as truly loves on to the close : 
 As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets, 
 The same look which she turned when he rose." 
 
 The Reverend Snavely bowed his head upon the desk
 
 THE HEART OF A RECTOR 287 
 
 and gave himself up to grief and regret. He never 
 doubted the truthfulness of those words. Could he ever 
 forget Sarah, the child- woman ? Sarah, adorable, whim- 
 sical yet strong and courageous, brave to stand for the 
 right and meeting the taunts of her inferiors with that 
 irresistible poise and calm that she had inherited from her 
 actress mother. Sarah ah, she was more precious than 
 mintage of gold and he had lost her !
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 SUSPICION 
 
 SARAH'S long-planned shopping trip to Lancaster lost 
 some of its potential thrills that night after the burning 
 of the forged check as she sat alone and counted the 
 worldly goods at her disposal for Christmas gifts. She 
 feared to touch the money deposited in bank, for she had 
 too often exhibited proudly her bank-book and its figures 
 were familiar to the rest of the household. She counted 
 her ready cash five dollars and thirty-two cents ! What 
 about the lovely gifts she had planned to buy? The beau- 
 tifully unnecessary gifts she wanted to buy? She sighed 
 but did not regret the temporary loss of her fifty dollars, 
 for was not the peace of mind of a mother even Mrs. 
 Roth worth more than white hyacinth gifts? Was not 
 the reclamation of a boy even Dan Roth more to be 
 desired than paltry perfume, gilt-frame pictures, choco- 
 lates ? She wasted no time in bemoaning the slimness of 
 her pocketbook, but with characteristic buoyancy set to 
 work with paper and pencil to see how elastic she could 
 make those five dollars and thirty-two cents. How could 
 she squeeze from it the last penny's worth of joy for 
 others ? 
 
 She would buy cheaper candy or a smaller box one 
 dollar for that ! Perfume at seventy-five cents, the low- 
 est ; a gilt frame and picture already ordered came to the 
 now-appalling sum of two dollars. She would have to 
 buy Miss Hughes an insignificant handkerchief and one 
 for Mary Becker, That would leave seventy-five cents for
 
 SUSPICION; 
 
 a gift for Mrs, Maloney and she had meant to send her 
 a box of nuts, candy and luxuries she knew never came 
 to Red Rose Court except in parsimonious portions. 
 Well, at any rate, she was thankful for handkerchiefs ! 
 
 " They are such a blessing for the shopper ! They fill 
 so many gaps, are so handy to send and of course, every- 
 body needs handkerchiefs! That has been said from the 
 first day of their invention ! If your money is low or you 
 don't know what under the sun to buy for her or him 
 you just walk to the handkerchief counter, close your 
 eyes, say * Eeney, meeney, miney, moe,' and stab at one, 
 and the one you touch you buy. It requires so little ex- 
 penditure of gray matter or discrimination, for a hand- 
 kerchief's a handkerchief! I can't buy those new shoes 
 I was going to get before Christmas, but my old ones will 
 do. I'll just keep quiet about shoes and after the holi- 
 days I'll get them." 
 
 But Aunt Sybilla did not forget about the shoes. She 
 considered it her duty to see that the girl was supplied 
 with all necessary articles of clothing. The unessentials, 
 like gloves, veils and such frivolities, she left to Sarah, 
 but shoes were a necessity and she was horrified at the 
 very idea of any one having less than two pairs, one for 
 Sundays, the other for week-days. 
 
 " Sarah," she announced one night at supper several 
 days after the fifty dollars had changed hands, " I seen 
 the shoe man to-day and he said his new ones come in. 
 You better go up and pick out a pair before Christmas 
 yet, else they get picked over so. We can go to-morrow 
 if you get out the store a little early." 
 
 Sarah swallowed how to parry for time " Why," she 
 said sweetly, " I decided not to get the shoes until after 
 the holidays."
 
 290 THE MADONNA'OF THE CURB 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't need them right away and ' she 
 
 floundered. 
 
 " Not need them ! With only one Sunday pair and 
 your week-day ones needin' solin'. You must fetch them 
 to the shoemaker now and you need another pair, that's 
 sure." 
 
 " Why, bless your heart," said the girl, " when I lived 
 in Red Rose Court I was lucky to have one whole pair." 
 
 Aunt Sybilla threw up her hands in a horrified gesture. 
 " My, to think our Jeremiah's girl would come so low as 
 to have only one pair of shoes ! " 
 
 Aunt Mary and grandfather made soft sounds of dis- 
 may with their lips. They, too, found the thought of 
 such abject poverty too sad to contemplate. But the 
 diversion was too trivial to side-track Sybilla permanently 
 from the matter to be considered. 
 
 " Then it's high time you always have plenty shoes. 
 You got to get them shoes right away. I'll go up with 
 you to-morow." 
 
 Sarah knew the futility of trying to evade the issue. 
 "Aunt Sybilla, I have no money for them now." 
 
 " No money ! Didn't you say the other day you got 
 over fifty dollars for shoes and presents? You ain't 
 spent all that?" 
 
 " Most of it." 
 
 " Goodness-a-life, what for?" 
 
 Before the girl could answer grandpap laid his knife 
 and fork across his plate and addressed her. " Sarah, 
 mebbe it ain't my business what you do with your money 
 when you earn it, but I can't see you wasting it and not 
 try to stop you. Money ain't picked off the streets. 
 How did you spend so much ? "
 
 SUSPICION 291 
 
 " I I didn't really spend it. I loaned it to some one." 
 
 " Oh, then you got a note for it and will get it back." 
 
 " I'll get it back but I have no note for it." 
 
 " What for kind of business is that ? To loan money 
 without gettin' any writin' for it! Thought you knew 
 more than that ! I'd like to know, anyhow, what for any- 
 body loans money off you. Ain't they able to get it out 
 the bank ? " The old-time severity sounded in his voice. 
 
 " I can't tell you about it. I can't ever tell you, so 
 please don't ask me." 
 
 Her apparent confusion and unwillingness to tell the 
 truth aroused the suspicion of Aunt Sybilla. " Sarah," 
 she began, " don't you play no tricks on us. Your grand- 
 pap is too good to you for you to do what you can't tell 
 him about. Better let him know who's borrowin' money 
 off you." 
 
 But the girl shook her head once more. " I can't ! I 
 had to do it, but I can't tell you about it." 
 
 " Well," sniffed the woman, " it looks mighty funny to 
 me." 
 
 "Sybilla!" Aunt Mary's voice interjected. "Don't 
 make on you think Sarah done what ain't right. Some- 
 times there's things abody can't tell about but they ain't 
 bad." 
 
 Sarah voiced her appreciation " You know I didn't 
 do anything wrong with the money ! " 
 
 " Yes, be sure I do. So do the others, only they look 
 for trouble too quick. I guess I'm a softy but I don't 
 think a person does bad until I know. I know you are 
 all right." 
 
 " Let's hope so," said the elder sister with a solemn ex- 
 pression. " There's been trouble enough in this family 
 without Sarah makin' more."
 
 292 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 "Aunt Sybilla!" The girl's voice rang through the 
 room, but the woman walked away from her and left be- 
 hind a troubled heart in the bosom of Sarah. 
 
 " She doesn't trust me yet," thought the girl. " I 
 counted her inside that circle too soon." 
 
 " Don't you mind her," the other aunt consoled her. 
 " She's had so much trouble that she's a little sour some- 
 times." 
 
 " Then for heaven's sake why doesn't she put an end to 
 her trouble and act like a human being ? " 
 
 " Sarah," spoke up the old man, " mebbe Sybilla and I 
 are a little too hard on you but I guess we don't have the 
 knack of handlin' young people. We're set in our ways, 
 but I think we are a little better than we used to be since 
 you came." 
 
 " Grandpap, then you do like to have me here ? " 
 
 " Now, ain't I told you that long a' ready ! You're get- 
 tin' short-minded and you ain't near so old as I am yet." 
 
 Sarah smiled. She knew that in spite of curiosity 
 about the money the man trusted her. She was dubious 
 about Aunt Sybilla's trust in her. That determined per- 
 son would try to worm out of the girl the secret of the 
 money. Sarah set her lips wild horses could not drag it 
 from her! 
 
 Aunt Sybilla said nothing more about the matter for 
 several days, greatly to the relief of the girl. She wanted 
 her Christmas to be unspoiled by nagging or lack of har- 
 mony. It was her first one in a real home and at the 
 thought little thrills ran and cavorted in her heart. She 
 regretted that she was too old for the delights of a tree 
 and a mysterious Santa Claus but, nevertheless, there re- 
 mained sufficient cause for happiness. She would have 
 the pleasure of giving gifts to her family !
 
 SUSPICION 293 
 
 Three days before Christmas she said to the aunts, 
 " Oh, I can hardly wait for the day ! I'm sorry I'm not 
 little enough to believe in Santa and hang up my stock- 
 ing." 
 
 " Santa Claus ! " Aunt Sybilla said the name as though 
 it had some evil significance. " We don't learn our chil- 
 dren such lies ! " 
 
 " Oh, you mean you never believed in Santa Claus ? " 
 
 " No, be sure not ! There ain't any such person. What 
 for should we tell children there is ? " 
 
 " I don't know, but it seems to me there is a Santa 
 Claus, lots of them. They may not always come down 
 the chimney but there are some in the world. Don't you 
 believe in fairies, either ? " 
 
 " What for ? Spooks and such things are heathen and 
 not fit for Christian people to believe in." 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Sybilla, but I do feel sorry for you ! " 
 
 The words rang so truthfully that the woman turned 
 from her work to look at the girl. " Sorry for me! Me, 
 with such a good home and everything I need or want ! " 
 
 "And not one snitch of romance or real fun in your 
 make-up ! Can't you see anything more than a flower in 
 the red geraniums you have in the front room now ? " 
 
 " What else could abody see but geraniums ? " 
 
 " Why," Sarah laughed, " every time I go into that 
 room I talk to them. They seem like little fairies danc- 
 ing round a fire on a cold night." 
 
 " Are you ferhexed, or what? " 
 
 Mary laughed. " Guess me and Sarah's alike in some 
 ways then, for pansies always look like little old ladies in 
 caps when I look at them, and the sweet alyssum makes 
 me think of clean white babies." 
 
 "Ach, my goodness! You two must be funny in the
 
 1294 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 heads ! It wonders me how you can think of such dumb 
 things." She looked worried about the evident degenera- 
 tion of her close kin. 
 
 " I'm going over to the rector's to borrow a book," said 
 Sarah. " I need something to read to keep me from fid- 
 geting while I wait for Christmas. I saw him go up- 
 town and I'll hurry and get one from the housekeeper 
 before he comes back." 
 
 "All right," said Aunt Sybilla. As she looked after the 
 girl she thought, " Something ails that girl ! She acts too 
 dumb! I just wish I could find out where them fifty 
 dollars went ! "
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE CARDINAL FLOWER 
 
 SARAH found the rector out as she had anticipated. 
 The old housekeeper told her to walk into the front room 
 where the books were and help herself. 
 
 The array of long shelves, such prodigal wealth of lit- 
 erature, placed her in the quandary of a child who is asked 
 to choose one toy from a tempting assortment. She drew 
 out a book and found, tucked at the back of the shelf and 
 apparently hidden, a small leather-bound copy of Son- 
 nets from the Portuguese. It was well worn and the 
 pages opened her heart thumped and throbbed! The 
 red cardinal flower she had picked at Mount Gretna and 
 given to the rector lay in the book, pressed and beautiful 
 even though dead. She turned it over and her glance 
 was held by the sonnet on that page. It was a much-pen- 
 ciled, underlined sonnet and the words of it sprang up to 
 meet her eyes : 
 
 " Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand 
 
 Henceforward in thy shadow 
 
 The widest land 
 
 Doom takes to part us leaves thy heart in mine 
 With pulses that beat double. What I do 
 And what I dream include thee, as the wine 
 Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue 
 God for myself, He hears the name of thine, 
 And sees within my eyes the tears of two."
 
 296 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 And underneath the last line was written in the rector's 
 hand the exclamation, " My Madonna of the Curb, how 
 can I let you go ? " 
 
 Sarah closed the book and thrust it back to its hiding- 
 place, a feeling of panic in her heart. What had she 
 done? Whom did he mean? Ah, she remembered that 
 he had once called her " The Madonna of the Curb ! " 
 Was it true, did he mean her? Then why the words, 
 " How can I let you go ? " what did they mean ? Did 
 he feel that way about her oh, it could not be ! Surely 
 it was some dream, some wild flight of her impulsive 
 Irish imagination ! How dared she harbor the thought ? 
 He could not have meant her ! Yet there lay the scarlet 
 flower, pressed and kept, like a very heart of love against 
 the words of the sonnet. With trembling fingers she took 
 from the shelf a volume of Stevenson and tried to still 
 her hammering heart by reading the words of the gentle 
 invalid. Those pages, too, were lined and marked. It 
 was evident that the author was a favorite with the rec- 
 tor. Sarah turned over the pages, culling here a helpful 
 expression, finding there a new setting for an old thought. 
 Her eyes fell on a marked paragraph. "A happy man or 
 woman is a better thing to find than a five-pound note. 
 He or she is a radiating focus of good-will; and their en- 
 trance into a room is as though another candle had been 
 lighted. We need not care whether they could prove the 
 forty-seventh proposition; they do a better thing than 
 that, they practically demonstrate the great Theorem of 
 the Liveableness of Life." 
 
 She turned at a sound and the rector stood in the room. 
 
 " Good-evening," he said. " I am sorry that on the 
 rare occasions you honor my house with a visit I am out." 
 
 " But I came for a book, not to see you." Then her
 
 THE CARDINAL FLOWER 297 
 
 face flushed at the seeming unkindness. " I mean I 
 really did come for a book." 
 
 " Yes, I understand," he replied gravely, his eyes belie- 
 ing the gravity of his voice. " Don't run away, please. 
 I haven't seen you for some time. It's perfectly proper, 
 you know. The housekeeper is old enough to qualify for 
 chaperone and the shades are all up so the world can see 
 you here and wonder what trouble you have encountered 
 to make you seek the rectory for counsel." 
 
 " You're foolish to-night," she told him, but her man- 
 ner implied that she liked his rare moods of flippancy. 
 
 " What were you reading ? Find anything good ? " 
 
 " This." She held up Stevenson. 
 
 " I like Robert Louis, he's an old favorite of mine. As 
 a child I heard his verses read by my mother and I have 
 never lost my love for him. It's a blessing to look back 
 to those years and remember my mother reading " 
 
 He looked up suddenly and was shocked by the pale, 
 twitching face of the visitor. 
 
 " Sarah ! Forgive me ! That was thoughtless of me ! 
 I didn't mean to hurt you. I wouldn't have done that for 
 worlds ! " 
 
 " Oh, don't mind me," she smiled then. " I'm just a 
 little sore on the point of what I lost when I lost my 
 mother. You'd think I should be calloused by this time 
 but when you spoke a moment ago it made me feel the old 
 hurt. Go on, please tell me about your mother. I'm not 
 such a dog-in-the-manger that I can't enjoy hearing about 
 other people's happiness and memories of a happy child- 
 hood." 
 
 " You really want to hear ? " He regarded her. How 
 mature she looked then with that serious expression on 
 her face, how changed from the almost hoydenish hilarity
 
 298 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 that so often moved her. Fool, fool that he had been to 
 let her slip into the keeping of namby-pamby Dan Roth 1 
 She never guessed what thoughts raced back of the man's 
 glowing eyes as he looked into hers and began to describe 
 some of the pictures of his memory. 
 
 " I have many happy memories and I want to share 
 them with you. It is strange how the strains of an old 
 song, the inflection of a voice, the shimmer of a bird's 
 wings, the utterance of a word, lifts the veil of long years 
 and you stand thrilled at the memory of other days. You 
 look down the vista of the long road over which you have 
 traveled, and though much of it is shrouded in darkness, 
 there are many scenes that stand out in vivid relief. 
 
 " The phrase ' white violets ' brings to your mental 
 eyes a bed of them nestling in the grass. You see the 
 children, yourself among them, crouching upon the earth 
 to gather them, you feel the perfume in your nostrils, 
 though you have not seen white violets in many years. 
 
 " Close to that picture is another of marvelous bright- 
 ness, though the setting is twilight. The background is 
 the favorite room in your childhood's home, the sitting- 
 room, where in summer-time the robins' songs floated in 
 through the open windows, where in winter days the fire 
 burned brightest in the big stove. Now it is twilight, the 
 day's play is over, the toys neatly piled into their corner, 
 and bedtime is come. You climb into mother's lap as she 
 sits in the big rocker, that old-fashioned rocker with the 
 roses painted upon its back and the broad arms which 
 make it comfortable for a little fellow to be held there. 
 But you are not thinking of the roses as you climb into 
 mother's lap. You want cuddling and loving and a song. 
 But the mother hesitates if she sings to you she knows 
 you'll fall asleep and you are growing too heavy to carry
 
 THE CARDINAL FLOWER 290 
 
 to bed. But you see leniency in her eyes and beg for one 
 song, just one, while you promise to surely keep wide 
 awake. So she gathers you close and sings your favorite. 
 In after years you wonder why it was your favorite, that 
 simple old song, ' Whiter Than Snow.' But as she sings 
 it is unspeakably sweet. You look up into the face whose 
 loveliness has been unmatched in all the years since and 
 listen to each word as it falls from her lips until the 
 same old drowsiness creeps over you and you do not hear 
 the ending. So the dear, tired mother carries you once 
 more to bed and you do not feel the kiss she gives you 
 before she carries away the light. A wonderful picture 
 that ! More worthy of preservation than any Old Master 
 of fabulous price! 
 
 " There is another that has shadows in it, very vague 
 in parts, fearfully realistic in others. You are ill, seri- 
 ously ill, and you lie in the huge four-poster bed for many 
 weary days and nights. You are so uncomfortable, you 
 can't swallow, you can't lift your head for it throbs and 
 burns. The days go slowly but the nights how long they 
 are! You toss and moan, you try to watch the shaded 
 lamp on the high old bureau or trace the pictures on the 
 old clock's glass doors, then you turn your face to the 
 wall and try to sleep. But something is all wrong with 
 your throat, your head is too hot you utter a piteous 
 moan. Then the mother, who had sat by your bed so 
 long it must be years according to your calculation 
 places her cool hand upon your forehead, rearranges your 
 pillows and says gently, ' My poor lamb, go to sleep.' 
 Presently, soothed by that touch, you do sleep. You 
 waken often and always she is there to hush you to slum- 
 ber again. As you look at that picture through memory's 
 lifted veil you wonder how, after those long vigils for
 
 300 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 you, you could ever wilfully grieve her and you sigh at 
 your own unworthiness. 
 
 " Farther along the road is another picture, one painted 
 in bright colors and splashes of sunshine. It is your first 
 look at the great ocean. You feel so important as you 
 take the trip with a kind, indulgent father. You had 
 wondered on the train whether the ocean could be much 
 bigger than your pond at home. When you see it you 
 are staggered, speechless for a moment, then with childish 
 loyalty to home you exclaim, ' Why, it slops up just like 
 our pond ! ' You wonder why father laughs and later, 
 when he repeats it to the home folks, you resent the mer- 
 riment it provokes. That sea how much bigger and 
 bluer it is than you have ever seen it since! The big 
 waves thrill you as they break on the shore in misty white 
 foam ; in your childish imagination you can look across it 
 and see the country that lies beyond." 
 
 He sat dreamy-eyed, as though living once more those 
 happy days of his childhood. Sarah broke into his retro- 
 spection. 
 
 " I hope you are properly thankful for such memories. 
 But I know you are ! " She veered suddenly from his 
 pictures to her own, as though fearing to trust her own 
 powers of control. " I want you to know that if I did 
 miss what you had I'm happy now." 
 
 " Perfectly happy ? " 
 
 " Well I suppose such a thing as perfect happiness is 
 not for mortals to know. But I'm almost in that state 
 since I've found my people." 
 
 " I'm glad." 
 
 " Of course you are. And didn't you help me ? It 
 was you first made me perk up when I cried in the cherry 
 tree. I have drawn part of that enormous circle already.
 
 THE CARDINAL FLOWER 301 
 
 The girls are nice to me, even Mrs. Roth has buried the 
 old hatchet " 
 
 Her face flushed at the remembrance of the incident in 
 the Roth home, the burning of the check. But the man 
 looked at her and misunderstood the flush. His heart 
 sank a little lower. He prided himself upon his powers 
 of deduction. Sarah and Dan did care for each other ! 
 
 " Imagine ! " went on the girl, " Mrs. Roth says now 
 that she is glad I came to Fair view ! " 
 
 " That is a conquest. I might as well tell you she told 
 me you are the sweetest, finest girl in town." 
 
 " Glory ! I did drag her into that circle ! With her on 
 my side my ears won't burn so often." She threw back 
 her head and laughed one of her gay, rippling laughs that 
 had so thrilled him before. Often he had heard the 
 merry sound come into his home and paused in his read- 
 ing or writing to enjoy the fresh naturalness of it. 
 
 " Then you are happy now well, I'm glad, more glad 
 than I can tell you ! If ever a mortal was meant for joy 
 it is you ! " 
 
 "Are not all mortals * born to trouble as the sparks fly 
 upward'?" she asked. 
 
 " Yes. But I warrant you'd see something to be glad 
 about no matter how much trouble came to you." 
 
 " So I should. I think I'd never be down so low that I 
 couldn't look up." 
 
 " Good ! I hope your happiness will keep on growing. 
 You deserve it. I wish I could make you perfectly happy, 
 give you what you want " 
 
 " Oh, don't ! " She rose from her chair, the words of 
 the marked sonnet burning into her brain. She turned 
 her back to him and stood before the bookcase as if read- 
 ing the titles. Something new and delightful pulsed
 
 302 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 through her. What was it? That tingling rush in her 
 fingers ! Was it love ? Why that precipitate withdraw- 
 ing from his gaze ? It seemed a long time she stood with 
 her back to him, then she turned and walked back to her 
 chair. He saw that some change had taken place, that 
 she was lovelier than ever. Her eyes looked fearlessly 
 into his as she said, " You see I came back." 
 
 " I knew you would. Why did you run away ? What 
 had I done?" 
 
 " You ? Oh, you didn't do anything." 
 
 " But you ran from me as you ran from Dan last sum- 
 mer." 
 
 " No, oh, no ! Not like that ! That time I ran from 
 Dan, this time from myself. Were you ever afraid of 
 yourself, Mr. Preacher?" 
 
 " Many times." 
 
 She avoided his eyes as he spoke, but he could see the 
 lambent fires of hers. 
 
 " Doesn't it beat the dickens, this growing up busi- 
 ness ! " She said it seriously yet she looked so bewil- 
 dered that the man laughed. Then as she studied the 
 back of the Stevenson book he looked at her. What a 
 child she was and, paradoxical, what a woman! She 
 would give with the generousness of a child, yet could 
 withhold with the measuring of a woman. He closed his 
 eyes a moment as though he stood before an unveiled 
 sanctuary which he had no right to behold. 
 
 She brought him back to earth. " You told me of your 
 memories of childhood, now let me tell you mine. Don't 
 you think I haven't any ! " Her expression told him she 
 was trying to be flippant to suppress her pangs of regret 
 for what she had missed. 
 
 " Let me hear about them," he urged.
 
 THE CARDINAL FLOWER 303 
 
 "Well, once when I was about nine there was a big 
 wedding in the fashionable church around on Fourth 
 Street not very far from Red Rose Court. A whole gang 
 of us went. Invited? No! We sneaked in, watched 
 our chance and got through past the swells in stiff shirts. 
 It was great! All the ladies in evening dress took my 
 time. I was just a ragged youngster from Red Rose 
 Court but I was shocked by the little they wore and got 
 away with it. Since then I've seen worse and sometimes 
 it makes me think of Kipling's Gunga Din. You remem- 
 ber: 
 
 " ' The uniform he wore 
 Was nothin' much before, 
 An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind.' " 
 
 He laughed heartily. " You are clever to think of 
 that! But if those grand ladies who wear the evening 
 gowns heard you I fancy they wouldn't relish having the 
 creations compared to any ' twisty piece of rag.' " 
 
 " But that isn't the only glimpse I got into high society, 
 please, sir. One night we were wandering about in one 
 of the exclusive sections of the aristocrats when a dinner 
 party was in progress. We boosted each other up at a 
 side window to look into the dining-room. Say, there 
 was enough silver on the table to perform an operation ! 
 And flowers! I thought at first somebody was dead! 
 Just as I had my look-in a cop came along and we ran 
 like rabbits. Bet he never had a chance to count how 
 many there were of us. When I think of the harum- 
 scarum piece of humanity I was I feel sorry for Miss 
 Hughes. I'm everlastingly indebted to her. She's a 
 darling, the best person I know, barring none." 
 
 " Rather hard on present company."
 
 304 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " Well, you might be almost as good." 
 
 " That's a concession. Thank you. I'll have to stretch 
 my soul and try to rival that wonderful Miss Hughes." 
 
 " Well, I don't think you'll have to go so awful far to 
 catch up, at any rate, to get within sight of her ! " 
 
 They laughed together. Then she rose, the volume of 
 Stevenson in her hand. " May I take this ? " 
 
 " Help yourself. Read the chapter on El Dorado. 
 There are many things in that I'm sure you'll like." 
 
 After she left the man sat with his books, but not read- 
 ing any of them. The room seemed suddenly dim. He 
 paraphrased Stevenson and thought her going from a 
 room was as if all the candles had been extinguished.
 
 THE CLOUDS ROLLED AWAY 
 
 AUNT SYBILLA had not forgotten the mysterious lend- 
 ing of Sarah's fifty dollars. The more she thought of it 
 the more eager she became to solve the riddle. She was 
 thinking about it two days before Christmas as she 
 cleaned Sarah's room while the girl was at the store. 
 
 " Fifty dollars loaned away and she won't do it to tell 
 to who ! I don't like them sneaky ways. Mebbe, for all, 
 she's goin' to give us trouble. That mom she had wasn't 
 the right kind. Such badness comes out in the children, 
 it got to, it just got to ! Sarah said she got some pictures 
 of Miss Hughes I'm to see once when I got time. Mebbe 
 they are in her drawer. I'll look once." 
 
 She opened the bureau drawer. On the top of a stack 
 of letters lay the paper Dan had written in preparation 
 for the forgery. 
 
 " What in the world ! " she snapped. " Pop's name 
 wrote all over like some one was tryin' to do it like him ! 
 My goodness ! " She opened and closed her mouth. 
 " My goodness ! Ach, she wouldn't do that ! But 
 
 what " She stared at the paper, her brain trying to 
 
 solve the significance of it. Finally she came to the natu- 
 ral conclusion that Sarah had written the paper and for 
 no other purpose than to use the grandfather's name for 
 some illegal purpose. The woman's face hardened. She
 
 306 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 decided to confront the girl with the incriminating paper 
 and demand an explanation. 
 
 The first opportunity came at the dinner table. As 
 soon as the four were seated there Aunt Sybilla produced 
 the paper and held it to the girl. " Here, what does this 
 mean ? " 
 
 "What?" But she recognized the import of the in- 
 terrogation. 
 
 "Ach, you know good enough what ! I found it in your 
 drawer when I looked in for them pictures you talked 
 about." 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Aunt Mary. 
 
 " Who wrote this ? " demanded Jeremiah Burkhart as 
 his daughter handed the paper to him. He looked to the 
 girl for an answer, but she shook her head and her lips 
 were hard as she told him she could not tell him that. 
 
 " Just what I thought ! " Aunt Sybilla had the air of a 
 prophet who sees his prophecies verified. " Who wrote 
 that ? " she asked Sarah. " I want to know who did." 
 
 " I can't tell you." 
 
 " Well," compromised the old man, " tell us if you did 
 or somebody else." 
 
 " I can't tell you that much even." The agonizing bit- 
 terness of being suspected tempted her to divulge the real 
 author of the paper, but something stronger than her 
 temptation held her back. What would it profit her peo- 
 ple to know and how much harm it might do the boy! 
 She was convinced that Dan was trying his best to go 
 straight, that he had learned his lesson and was keeping 
 that promise to her. She couldn't expose him to stave 
 off a bit of unpleasantness from herself. Her grandfa- 
 ther might discharge him, the news of the crime might be 
 spread and the whole future of the foolish lad be jeopard-
 
 THE CLOUDS ROLLED AWAY 307 
 
 ized because of that one fall which he so sincerely re- 
 gretted. 
 
 " I can't tell you anything about it," she said with a 
 tone of finality. 
 
 " Then I guess you done it yourself and was gettin' 
 ready to forge checks on your grandpap ! " pronounced 
 Sybilla. 
 
 Her words brought a protest from the other aunt. 
 " Sybilla, be careful ! That ain't a little thing to say 
 about abody ! " 
 
 " Well, if she ain't guilty why can't she say so? Why 
 does she act dumb for, like she didn't know who done it 
 nor why ? What do you do with your money, anyhow ? " 
 she demanded of the girl. " First you borrow out fifty 
 dollars and can't tell who to, then you try to forge checks 
 what do you do with the money ? Do you gamble it, or 
 what?" 
 
 If the matter had not been so serious Sarah would have 
 indulged in a gale of laughter at the utter ridiculousness 
 of the question. But she was in no mood for laughter. 
 She bit her lips to keep back the tears. 
 
 " Why can't you tell ? " insisted the old grandfather, to 
 whom the strange conduct of the girl was a painful ex- 
 perience. " I trust you and I felt so sure you would be 
 a girl to do the right " 
 
 " But look at her mom and her pop ! " Sybilla reminded 
 him. 
 
 Sarah sprang to her feet. "Aunt Sybilla, don't you 
 dare talk like that about them ! My mother never stole a 
 penny in her life ! For all her dancing she would never 
 have taken the name of an innocent person and dragged it 
 in the dirt ! My mother was noble and she had a heart ! " 
 
 Sobs were in her voice and an ominous moisture in her
 
 308 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 eyes but she steadied her lips and went on, " I guess my 
 father well, he was ray father, but he was also your 
 brother! When it comes to throwing dirt I can sling a 
 little as well as you can." She narrowed her eyes as she 
 used to do long ago in Red Rose Court when she called 
 some bully to account. 
 
 But Aunt Sybilla was not easily intimidated. " Well," 
 she said curtly, " if you don't want people to think bad of 
 you then don't be sneaky. What else can that paper 
 mean but that you was tryin' to write like pop, and what 
 for?" 
 
 Sarah could stand no more. She ran from the room, 
 up-stairs to the white bed whose immaculate counterpane 
 had so pleased her and there, with her face buried in its 
 roses, she sobbed out her pain. 
 
 To be suspected, even in the face of circumstantial evi- 
 dence, not to be trusted, hurt her more than anything had 
 ever done before. 
 
 " They think I'm a thief, stealing from my own grand- 
 father after I'm living in his house, earning money in his 
 store how can they think that? I'll never forget the 
 shame of it! If they had struck me it would be less 
 painful. To think me a thief " 
 
 " Sarah ! " A gentle voice called her and a cool hand 
 was placed on her hot head. Aunt Mary sat down beside 
 the bed. " Come, Sarah, you mustn't mind how Sybilla 
 talks. She's quick and says too much once in a while. 
 Pop just said to us he don't think you would do anything 
 like that. I told him I know you wouldn't." 
 
 "You don't think I'm a thief?" She turned her 
 swollen face to the white-capped woman. 
 
 " Sarah, I know you are not ! Just because things are 
 mysteries don't say they must be bad."
 
 THE CLOUDS ROLLED AWAY 309 
 
 Sarah sat up. " If I live to be a hundred I'll remember 
 that you had faith in me when things looked black against 
 me." 
 
 " Come down now and finish your dinner. It's too bad 
 Sybilla didn't wait to make a fuss till you eat your snitz 
 pie when you like them so ! Come down and eat." 
 
 " I couldn't swallow a bite ! " 
 
 " Now ain't that too bad of Sybilla ? But you mustn't 
 be too hard on her for she has so much trouble." 
 
 " Trouble ! I'm thinking that Jake is mighty lucky she 
 did turn him down ! " 
 
 " Now, now ! Sybilla's all right. She'd make Jake a 
 good wife." 
 
 Sarah refrained from further expression of her opinion 
 just then for she knew it would hurt the gentle woman 
 who had borne heavy burdens cheerfully and yet saw ex- 
 cuse for those who sank under theirs. 
 
 When she returned to work her reddened eyes sur- 
 prised Dan. 
 
 "What's wrong? Anything I can help?" He was 
 considerate and gentlemanly in his attitude to her since 
 that day of her magnanimous action to him; his whole 
 bearing in her presence spelled gratitude and a determina- 
 tion to prove worthy of her kindness. 
 
 " No, Dan, nothing you can help." 
 
 "Ah, that's rotten! I wish I could do something to 
 show how much I appreciate " 
 
 She held up a silencing finger. " Then don't talk about 
 it, please. That's the best way to show me." She smiled 
 at him and bent over her work and he could not guess 
 how heavy was the heart she bore. All through the long 
 afternoon, with its press of work, the thought haunted 
 her they think I'm a criminal! Like claps of thunder
 
 310 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 the dire words rang in her ears so that her hands trem- 
 bled and tears blurred the pages she was trying to fill. 
 Her tortured brain was trying to look into the future 
 how could she live through years of mistrust? Would 
 she ever be happy again? Would she had never found 
 her people if they had no faith in her. Miss Hughes 
 would have understood. She would have trusted and 
 said, " Dear child, it looks bad on the surface but I'll 
 trust you until you can explain the clouds away." But 
 then Miss Hughes was like that, so understanding, so 
 broad-minded she could see the good in people though 
 they were covered with the very slime of sin. One thing 
 she would remember, Aunt Mary was like Miss Hughes. 
 
 When supper-time came Sarah rose reluctantly. She 
 would rather have faced a company of ferocious animals 
 than submit to another tirade from Aunt Sybilla. But 
 Aunt Mary had evidently implored the sister to refrain 
 from further questioning, for the evening meal brought 
 no renewal of the dreaded subject. Aunt Mary talked and 
 smiled, grandfather hid valiantly his uncertainty about 
 the girl and Aunt Sybilla sat silent and grim. Sarah felt 
 the iron about her neck growing heavier each minute. A 
 life like that would soon be intolerable, or did one become 
 accustomed to it in time and accept it with apathy or 
 stoicism ? 
 
 She went to her room early that night, pleading a few 
 last gifts to be tied up in festive ribbons. As she went 
 she thought of the farcical task of tying gifts, adding gay 
 cards with gay messages when her heart was so heavy. 
 Tears fell on the white tissue paper until the blistered 
 surface told her it would never do. She sat for a long 
 time and thought over the matter. Would it have been 
 better to shield herself and let Dan look out for himself ?
 
 THE CLOUDS ROLLED AWAY 311 
 
 He had been headed for destruction ; she had turned him 
 to a better path, and this was what she got for it ! She 
 was a fool to meddle with his affairs ! Did it pay to do 
 good ? She laughed a cynical laugh as she thought of the 
 old saying that virtue is its own reward some reward 
 she was getting out of it! For the first time in her life 
 the child who had come from Red Rose Court and Sunset 
 Mountain to live in Fairview cried herself to sleep. She 
 thought of her first Christmas at home, her dreams about 
 it, her plans, and it was all dead sea fruit, ashes and dust, 
 bitter gall. 
 
 When she woke her misery was still with her. She lay 
 wide-eyed, thinking, thinking! If she could stop her 
 brain from whirling and her heart from aching ! In her 
 extremity she thought of the rector next door and won- 
 dered dully whether he would trust her if he knew. How 
 she wished she could fly to him for comfort. Was it just 
 two nights ago they had joked about her seeking consola- 
 tion in the rectory? it seemed like aeons ago. She had 
 said so glibly to him that she would never be down so low 
 that she couldn't look up what an easy assertion to 
 make, a harder one to carry out ! 
 
 At breakfast Aunt Sybilla did not allude to the mat- 
 ter, but her manner, her very silence, spoke eloquently 
 that she still remembered it and wanted to know the 
 truth. 
 
 However, when noon came and they were seated about 
 the table her desire to fathom the mystery was too strong 
 to permit silence. 
 
 " Sarah, ain't you ready to tell yet about that paper ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 "Well, I won't rest in my grave till I know if you
 
 312 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 wrote it and if you was goin' to forge your grandpap's 
 name." 
 
 In her excitement her voice became shrill and every 
 word fell distinctly upon the ears of Mrs. Roth, who had 
 come round the back way and stood at the kitchen door 
 ready to enter as the words fell. That woman's first im- 
 pulse was to run and never let the people of the house 
 know she overheard. She knew what the words meant. 
 In some manner Sybilla had heard of the check and sus- 
 pected Sarah. Mother-desire to protect her offspring 
 urged her to keep silent and allow the stigma to settle 
 upon the innocent. In a flash that seared her very heart 
 she saw the scene of that night when Sarah had con- 
 fronted Dan with the evidence of his guilt. She felt 
 again the terror and hopelessness as the disgrace of her 
 boy loomed before her. Could she forget the moment 
 Sarah walked to the fire and threw the forgery into the 
 flames ? In that moment Mrs. Roth reached the heights ; 
 the multitude of her sins were covered by one act of real 
 charity. She turned and ran across the street to her own 
 home, where Dan was reading the paper during the brief 
 recess of the noon hour. 
 
 " Dan." She told the story in a breathless jumble of 
 words. 
 
 He, too, proved that contact with Sarah had been a 
 saving experience. He rose. " They blame Sarah for 
 my guilt ! She's an angel ! I'm going straight over ! " 
 
 A few minutes later the Burkhart family gasped simul- 
 taneously at the apparition that appeared in the doorway 
 of the kitchen : Mrs. Roth, panting, weeping ; Dan, hatless 
 and bursting with some information. 
 
 " I heard you " the mother began. 
 
 Dan stepped out and said, " Mother, let me tell it !
 
 THE CLOUDS ROLLED AWAY 313 
 
 Mother heard something makes her think you found a 
 paper with Jeremiah Burkhart written all over it." 
 
 " Yes. I did ! " Sybilla wasn't loath to admit. 
 
 " And you suppose that because Sarah had it she wrote 
 it?" 
 
 " She won't tell." 
 
 " No, she can't tell, because she'd expose the real sin- 
 ner ! I wrote that paper ! " 
 
 Sarah made a protesting sound but he paid no attention 
 to it. 
 
 " I wrote it and she found it and thought I needed 
 watching. So when I forged a check and she got it she 
 saw just what it was. She came over and told us about 
 it. I'll never forget the hell I went through that night. 
 I saw what I had done, how I was started on the down 
 road. But that blessed girl burned the check after she 
 had given me a good scare and because we had spent our 
 money so close we had no fifty to make it good, she gave 
 me hers to make it good until after the holidays, when I 
 can pay her back. It isn't easy to tell you this. I was 
 hoping it could be kept in the dark, but I couldn't see her 
 blamed for anything like that. It's a wretched story so 
 far as I am concerned but it puts a halo round her head. 
 Mr. Burkhart, I'm sorry. I don't suppose you can trust 
 me after this " 
 
 " My boy ! " cried the mother. " Oh, Mr. Burkhart, 
 don't be too hard on him! He's trying so hard to go 
 right now. I know he learned his lesson. Don't send 
 him to jail or discharge him say you won't! " 
 
 The old man spoke with irritating slowness to the ones 
 who hung upon his words as though much depended upon 
 them. " I guess mebbe Dan got enough punishment for 
 it a'ready. If this had happened before Sarah come to
 
 314 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 live with us I'd been for puttin' him to jail or anyhow to 
 discharge him, but " his voice trembled " she learned 
 me to be merciful and forgive, and I guess we'll call it all 
 in the past so long as Dan goes right." 
 
 Mrs. Roth was overjoyed. " Sarah, I want to tell you 
 how mean I talked about you and all and how sorry I am. 
 And what I said about Reverend Snavely making up to 
 girls and then going off wasn't true. I was so mean I 
 didn't want you to get a good man, but now I think the 
 best one in the world won't be too good for you." 
 
 After Dan and his mother left, a happy pair once more, 
 Aunt Sybilla came to Sarah. " Say," she said humbly, 
 " I ain't fit to wipe off your shoes after all I said to you, 
 but if you don't hold it against me I want to be nice to 
 you from now on." 
 
 "Aunt Sybilla, of course you didn't know! It was 
 natural to suspect me." The girl smiled through tears 
 and before they knew it her arms were twined around the 
 neck of the old aunt. " I believe," she said, " that I'm 
 going to like you every bit as much now as I like Aunt 
 Mary!" 
 
 " Well, I guess it's time once I treat you nice ! " 
 
 " Now we're going to have a happy Christmas, after 
 all ! " Sarah clapped her hands. "And this morning I 
 thought it would be the worst one ever I knew. It just 
 shows that we shouldn't worry so, that things turn out 
 better than we expect and people are so much nicer than 
 we think they are. Here's Dan going to make me proud 
 of him, and his mother nice to me, and you all so kind to 
 me oh, I'd like to run up and down the street and shout 
 hurrah!"
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE Sarah declared she was so happy she 
 felt tempted to stay awake all night to see Christmas 
 ushered in. At the remark her aunts exchanged glances 
 which the girl would have noted if she had been less oc- 
 cupied with singing paeans of gladness. Every time she 
 left the room the women spoke in hurried whispers that 
 ran this wise "Are you sure he'll bring it to-night ? " 
 " Yes, he said he'd come after the store closes and not 
 make any noise but put it on the porch sh! here she 
 comes ! " 
 
 Sarah, not knowing that strange doings were brewing 
 in the old house, asked why they sewed so long on Christ- 
 mas Eve. " I declare, to see you, Aunt Sybilla, one 
 would never think you had twenty aprons in your chest ! 
 You sew on that one as though you had to wear it to- 
 morrow ! " 
 
 " But I want to give it to Mrs. Felker with her cookies, 
 for she's so good to that poor crazy boy and I think still 
 abody can't be too glad when you ain't got one like him." 
 
 Sarah accepted the explanation and the aunts sewed 
 on. At ten grandfather went to bed, but the women 
 made no move toward " fixing things for the night." 
 
 Finally the girl said, " I'm going to bed. I'm tired ; it's 
 been a full day but a happy one. I couldn't hold another 
 ounce of joy." 
 
 As soon as she was safely up-stairs the sewing was
 
 316 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 thrown aside and strange doings began in the Burkhart 
 sitting-room. The women brought out from under the 
 haircloth sofa several boxes and opened them. Stifled 
 exclamations were heard as colored balls for a tree were 
 held up. Then the door was opened cautiously, a tree 
 dragged into the room and Aunt Mary whispered, " He 
 had no stand left but he said to put it in a bucket of coal 
 would hold it up." 
 
 They followed directions, stood off to look at the tree, 
 then set to work with the trimming. It was a new task 
 for the Mennonite women but love guided their hands. 
 Their niece, the wonderful girl who had done so much 
 for them, showed them how to forgive, taught them how 
 to be loyal, lighted their drab lives and set the house ring- 
 ing with her music their child had never had a tree of 
 her own, she wanted one and she was going to have one ! 
 
 When the last red ball had been hooked on a branch 
 they stood away and viewed their work. " Um," said 
 Aunt Sybilla, " ain't so bad for two old maids ! " 
 
 "Yes. Won't she jump?" 
 
 Then they turned out the lights and went up-stairs. 
 Sarah called to them, " Gracious, did you make a whole 
 dress for Mrs. Felker? I just woke up and had a notion 
 to come down and see if anything is wrong, then I heard 
 you come up." 
 
 The women smiled at the narrow escape and bit their 
 lips like children fearful of discovery in some fault. 
 Their good-nights to the girl were full of love, but given 
 between mysterious chuckles. 
 
 When the aunts reached the room they had shared 
 since girlhood and closed the door Aunt Mary said, 
 " Sybilla, it don't right suit me to just give her sensible 
 things. Of course the petticoat you got and the woolen
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE 317 
 
 dress I bought are nice, but ain't they a little ach, you 
 know, they don't seem like Christmas ! " 
 
 " I know what you mean. Guess we might have bought 
 her a little perfume or something like that." Perfume 
 was the one frivolous desire in the heart of Sybilla. 
 
 " Now I know what ! " Aunt Mary had an inspiration. 
 "Why not give her that jewelry we had long a'ready? 
 Them breastpins." 
 
 " We might. We're plain and don't wear them any- 
 how. She likes to be fixed up, for Mary Becker is, and 
 they go together. Let's look once." 
 
 So the white-capped women bent over an old velvet 
 jewel box and took from it an antique cameo and a pearl- 
 studded pin, relics of past generations. 
 
 " They're good, and I seen a lady with one of them 
 picture pins on not so long ago. I guess they are in style 
 again. Here, I'll put them in this little box and slip 
 down and put it with her other presents."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 CHRISTMAS MORNING 
 
 HOME there is a magic about the word that will not 
 be denied. Christmas at home thrice magical words 
 that fling aside the mists of vanished years and bring, 
 even to hardened hearts, memories of childhood days and 
 Christmas at home. 
 
 To Sarah the words were fraught with wonder. She 
 wakened early, heard the aunts prowling about in their 
 room, and sprang from her high old-fashioned bed. As 
 she dressed she called gaily " Merry Christmas ! " first 
 down the hall to her grandfather, then up the other direc- 
 tion to her aunts. 
 
 " Don't you go down-stairs till we do," commanded 
 Aunt Sybilla. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Well, just you do like I tell you ! " 
 
 " All right. I'll be good, seeing it's Christmas." 
 
 So when the women and Grandfather Burkhart were 
 ready to go down they found the girl sitting meekly at the 
 head of the stairs. 
 
 "Did you ever see such a good child?" she asked 
 roguishly. "But I'm only being good so I'll get some 
 presents." 
 
 " You better ! Pop, you go down first." 
 
 The family procession moved slowly, too slowly for the 
 eager girl, who would have slid down the bannister if the 
 coast had been clear.
 
 CHRISTMAS MORNING 319 
 
 Grandfather led the way into the sitting-room. Sarah 
 was so excited she did not see the tree at once. Some- 
 thing in the expectant smiles of the women aroused her 
 suspicions ; she followed her grandfather's glance 
 
 " Oh, sweet Peter ! A tree ! " 
 
 She ran to it and touched the lowest shining balls, then 
 turned and faced her family. " You're the dearest peo- 
 ple on earth ! I couldn't be any happier if I had a million 
 dollars left to me ! When did you do it ? How did you 
 get it fixed without me knowing? I'm not as smart as I 
 thought I was ! " 
 
 Sybilla laughed. "Mary ordered it and bought the 
 balls when she went up-town last evening. It was on the 
 side porch till you went to bed. We had a time trimmin' 
 it to suit, but we done pretty good, ain't ? " 
 
 " Chased me to bed," said grandfather. " They thought 
 you'd smell the rat if I stayed up late too. You done 
 pretty good for the first tree, girls." 
 
 " Their first tree too ? " asked the girl. When they told 
 her it was, she exclaimed, " Then we'll all enjoy our first 
 tree together." 
 
 A little later they gathered for morning worship. 
 Sarah found the place in the huge family Bible and 
 grandfather read the Christmas message. She looked 
 across at Aunt Sybilla. The lined face was softened. 
 Sarah felt a tug at her heart. How much better she un- 
 derstood and liked the woman now! She hoped they 
 would become capital friends since Aunt Sybilla had been 
 drawn into the magic circle. 
 
 " Now it's time to give out the presents," came Aunt 
 Mary's announcement. Sarah ran up the stairs and 
 brought down the candy, perfume and gilt- framed pic- 
 ture. She dimpled as she saw the smiles of pleased sur-
 
 320 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 prise on the faces of the family. Her white-hyacinth 
 gifts were very welcome. 
 
 Then came her turn to open packages. The dress, pet- 
 ticoat and money from grandfather pleased her, but it 
 was the last little box with the precious jewelry in it that 
 brought from her the greatest cries of delight. 
 
 " For me ? These for me ? " 
 
 " Be sure." 
 
 "To keep?" 
 
 " Yes, abody generally dare keep presents. The pearl 
 pin belonged to your great granny and the picture one 
 your granny wore when she was a girl." 
 
 " Oh, to think that I have a real grandmother's jewelry, 
 and a great-grandmother's too! I'll sit up all night to 
 watch these pins ! " 
 
 It was only after Aunt Sybilla's repeated warnings that 
 the turkey had to be placed in the oven early and break- 
 fast prepared that the girl laid her presents on a table and 
 went to the kitchen. As she helped with the work she 
 broke into singing. Nothing seemed adequate to express 
 her feeling but the carol, " It Came Upon the Midnight 
 Clear." Aunt Sybilla, placing the turkey into the roaster, 
 paused a moment as she heard the words, " Oh, rest be- 
 side the weary road and hear the angels sing ! " Had her 
 ears been stopped these many years? It had taken the 
 hand of the girl to tear from her the grave clothes that 
 bound her and to show her how to forgive and under- 
 stand and love her fellow mortals. She thought of recent 
 Christmas days in their home, the dull quiet time, a few 
 useful gifts, a little rest or nodding over a paper. But 
 this year with the girl's laughter sounding through the 
 house like the peal of bells, her spontaneous joy in her 
 gifts what a day it was! Then she thought of Jake.
 
 CHRISTMAS MORNING 321 
 
 The thought was disturbing. Where was he spending his 
 Christmas ? Had she been too hard on him ? She wished 
 she could tell him she forgave him not that she wanted 
 to speak to him or have him come oh, no ! But just to 
 know that everything was right between them would be a 
 blessing. She shook her head. Never, never, could she 
 make the first move to reconciliation, never ! 
 
 After breakfast Sarah donned red cap, mittens and 
 sweater and went out to sweep the light snow that had 
 fallen during the night. Her dark hair escaped from 
 under her cap and before she had swept many minutes 
 her cheeks matched her sweater and cap. There was a 
 sharp tang in the air, a clear cold that moved one to walk 
 briskly at the same time it filled you with appreciation of 
 the perfection of the winter day. 
 
 " Merry Christmas ! " called the rector from his side of 
 the hedge, where he, too, was exercising with a broom. 
 
 " Merry Christmas ! " came the gay reply as she waved 
 her broom in friendly greeting. " Isn't this great ! " 
 
 " I think so. You like to do it ? " 
 
 " I'd sweep all Fairview if I could ! " 
 
 "Off the map?" 
 
 " No, no ! Certainly not ! Rather on the map in big 
 capitals ! It's the finest, dearest place I ever struck." 
 
 " With the finest people ? " 
 
 " Um yes, some of them." Then she laughed and the 
 heart of the rector fluttered like a captive bird as he met 
 the flash of it and saw the light dancing in her gray eyes. 
 
 Just then Sarah reached the walk that ran round the 
 side of the house and permitted a view of the home across 
 the street. 
 
 " Hello, Dan ! " she called. " Merry Christmas ! " 
 
 The rector's heart fluttered with another emotion. Lit-
 
 322 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 tie demons of jealousy pranced about in him. He was 
 finding how easy it is to break the tenth commandment. 
 
 Dan returned a merry call and went down the street. 
 
 " Dan's a nice boy," the rector's curiosity began like the 
 investigating antennae of a butterfly. 
 
 " Yes," responded the girl so fervently that the man 
 did not gain much comfort from his probing. " Isn't it 
 strange how you can change in feeling for some people ? 
 When I first came here I detested Dan Roth, but now 
 well, I think he is going to be a man we can be proud of." 
 
 The rector gave his broom a far more vigorous swing 
 than was necessary to move the light snow, but said no 
 more as the girl moved farther to the front of the house 
 and away from him. He thought of her words as he 
 went on sweeping the snow. Of course Dan would come 
 over with a gift for Sarah later lucky Dan ! 
 
 His supposition proved true. Later in the morning 
 Dan ran across the street with cookies his mother sent 
 and a box of candy for Sarah. His eyes pleaded with 
 the girl to accept his offering, his thank offering for her 
 goodness to him. She responded royally. There was no 
 coquettishness in her manner neither any lover-like atti- 
 tude in his, just a frank friendliness. 
 
 But the rector, who had seen the youth enter the Burk- 
 hart home, pictured to himself a far different meeting. 
 He pulled himself up short " time to halt," he admon- 
 ished his heart. Later when he joined the family of one 
 of his parishioners at Christmas dinner and found him- 
 self in the company of two eligible daughters he remem- 
 bered what was expected of him as a guest and tried to 
 be entertaining and not a bore, but the vision of a red- 
 clad girl with laughing face thrust itself before him until 
 he felt relieved when the dinner was over and the time
 
 CHRISTMAS MORNING 323 
 
 came when he could take his departure. He supposed 
 Burkharts also had a dinner guest. Lucky Dan ! 
 
 Burkharts did have a dinner guest but it was not Dan. 
 The identity of that guest would have surprised Fairview 
 if the news had spread. It was not Dan, but Dan was 
 responsible for the invitation. In the morning the boy 
 had admired the tree and remarked thoughtfully, " Say, 
 why didn't you put an angel on the top, Aunt Sybilla? 
 Don't you know that every Christmas tree must have an 
 angel on the very tip-top ? " 
 
 " No, ain't that too bad ! But me nor Mary never 
 trimmed none before and didn't know that." After he 
 left she racked her brains to think where she could secure 
 an angel did she have any in the house ? An inspiration 
 came to her. She went to the attic, brought from under 
 the rafters a box and stirred about until she found an old- 
 fashioned valentine. It was a huge heart, covered with 
 lace, and had pasted upon it a figure she called an angel. 
 It was none other than the Little Blind God, but to her it 
 had always been an angel. She lifted it from the lace 
 heart and carried it down-stairs. When they fixed a tree 
 once in their lives they wanted to have it right! She 
 fastened the cupid to the very top and called Sarah. 
 
 " Where did you get it? " 
 
 " Up in the garret." 
 
 " Looks like part of a valentine." 
 
 " It is. Ach, Jake sent it to me once when we went to 
 school yet." 
 
 "Aunt Sybilla!" The girl had a sudden inspiration. 
 " Why don't you invite Jake here for dinner to-day ? " 
 
 "Here! To-day! For dinner! Well, I guess 
 not ! " 
 
 " Why not ? Isn't it Christmas and don't you feel
 
 324 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 sorry for him, and isn't this the day to meet old friends 
 and make up with them and be nice to them ? " 
 
 " Mebbe it is, but Jake why he ach, he wouldn't 
 come if I would ask it." 
 
 " Yes he would. I know him. He often comes to the 
 store and asks about the family." 
 
 " Not me ! " She raised a hand in protest. 
 
 " Yes, you ! He asks if you are well and but I won't 
 tell you another thing! If you want to know how nice 
 Jake is you better ask him to come for dinner. I'll call 
 him up and invite him may I ? " 
 
 " No wait once mebbe it would be nice well, I 
 don't care if you don't tell him I said so " 
 
 " I may ? Good ! " Sarah ran to the telephone. By 
 the time she had secured the number the woman realized 
 what was happening. 
 
 " Stop ! Sarah ! " She laid a heavy hand on the girl's 
 arm, but it was shaken off. 
 
 " You're too late. You said I might." And she spoke 
 into the instrument the words that brought a promise 
 from the farmer several miles away. He would be glad 
 to eat his Christmas dinner in the Burkhart home. 
 
 " My, what did you do that for ? " Sybilla demanded, 
 trembling, as the girl faced her and smiled triumphantly. 
 
 " I don't know, but I think I'm just a willing instru- 
 ment in the hand of fate," she said as she followed the 
 perturbed woman to the kitchen, where the savory odor 
 of turkey was already foretelling one of the good things 
 that waited for the visitor. 
 
 Aunt Mary received the news with a little relieved 
 laugh. " Sybilla, I'm glad. I used to wish poor Jake 
 could come for dinner, for he always liked our cookin' 
 so."
 
 CHRISTMAS MORNING 325 
 
 Jeremiah Burkhart said little but he nodded his head as 
 Sarah ran to him with the news. It meant that Sybilla 
 was learning to forgive. He liked Jake, he always did 
 like Jake. 
 
 Sybilla's heart beat too fast as the time approached for 
 the coming of Jake. She made unnecessary trips to the 
 cellar and trotted back and forth in the kitchen until 
 Mary felt tempted to tell her to go sit down. But she 
 understood how agitated her sister must be and bore with 
 her. 
 
 " What ailed me ? " the elder sister said over and over 
 to Sarah. " What in the world made me say you dare 
 ask him? But you might knowed I didn't mean it! If 
 only you'd listened when I said you should not do it! 
 But you went on and asked him and now he's comin' ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE GUEST 
 
 WHEN Jake came it was very simple after all. Sarah 
 opened the door for him and stood in the hall with him as 
 he shook the snow from his overshoes, then she led the 
 way into the sitting-room where the man of the house 
 greeted him as if he had been a weekly visitor. Then 
 Mary came in from the kitchen, followed by Sybilla wip- 
 ing her hands on her apron. 
 
 " Well, Jake," she addressed him. 
 
 " Well, Sybilla," he said in his slow, gentle way, with a 
 rising inflection on the last syllable of her name. They 
 shook hands and then Sarah stepped into the silence and 
 made some trivial remark that set Mary and the grand- 
 father talking and left the two estranged to make their 
 peace. 
 
 " You give me a mighty fine Christmas present, Sybilla. 
 When the girl here called up I could hardly believe it at 
 first. Then it come to me that you thought we was old 
 enough to get some sense and not have hard feelin's no 
 more. It seems good to make up, don't it, Sybilla ? " 
 
 " Yes. It worried me a lot to think that I felt so hard 
 to you but when Sarah come and learned us that we ain't 
 Christians like we think we are if we don't forgive people 
 then it set me thinkin'. I guess I was too much like a 
 stone. I felt long a'ready that we ought to talk together. 
 I'm glad you come and you dare stop in sometimes like 
 you used for dinner or supper."
 
 THE GUEST 327 
 
 "And is that all ? " Jake looked at her over his steel- 
 rimmed spectacles. His fifty years of life had mellowed 
 him and made him a kindly man, but they had also taught 
 him to read human nature with a fair degree of accuracy. 
 He knew he would have to assert himself to gain any in- 
 road into the heart of Sybilla. She would hold him at 
 arm's length if he were too slow. 
 
 " Why, ach, Jake, I guess I didn't get you in here to 
 make up that old to be promised like we used I just 
 wanted to do the right thing by you and not feel we don't 
 talk together." 
 
 " Yes ? Well, I'm a pretty good waiter. I waited 
 twenty years for you to forget that one slip I made, and 
 I guess I can wait a little longer for you to make up right. 
 Say, that turkey smells mighty good! There ain't any- 
 body can beat you and Mary cookin'." 
 
 " Go on, now, Jake," Sybilla smiled at him. " You 
 talk to pop a while and I'll go out help with the dinner." 
 
 She bustled away and as she entered the kitchen where 
 Sarah was working the girl looked at her in amazement. 
 Did the coming of Jake make the grim old woman like 
 that? Why, her face was shining, years seemed to have 
 rolled off her shoulders, a light shone in her eyes Sarah 
 wanted to run to her and say some of the tender things 
 she had never wanted to say before. 
 
 The Christmas dinners on Sunset Mountain had seemed 
 veritable feasts to the children and Sarah had thought 
 nothing could ever be finer than they, but the dinner she 
 ate in her home with Sybilla and Jake looking at each 
 other as though their youth had come back to stay, Mary 
 beaming in her sweet way, glad because others were 
 happy, grandpap contentedly eating and talking and jok- 
 ing about the wish-bone and reminding Sybilla of the time
 
 328 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 she climbed on a chair to put one over the door when she 
 knew Jake was coming, and Sybilla blushing at the re- 
 minder, and Jake chuckling and grandpap laughing at his 
 own joke that was a real dinner ! It was small wonder 
 the girl swallowed pure joy with every mouthful of the 
 meal. 
 
 There was a touch of pathos in it also. During the 
 conversation Mary asked Jake what they were having 
 for dinner at home and brought the laughing answer, 
 " Nothing like this ! My sister went to Mount Joy and 
 she boiled me some ham for cold and I was going to cook 
 potatoes and she did fix me some cranberry sauce and 
 get dried corn out." 
 
 " Jake, you would have eat all alone out there ? " 
 
 " Ach, I done that often a'ready. She likes to go way 
 holidays and it don't do to tie her down too close. I can 
 shift pretty good alone but of course this is better 
 tastin' ! " 
 
 " But alone on Christmas ! " Sybilla was distressed. 
 
 " Yes, but you fixed it for me that I got here. See the 
 fine old-fashioned dinner I got and now we're friends 
 again and Sarah, I promise you that when you get mar- 
 ried I'll buy you the best ' haustire ' (wedding gift) in 
 Lancaster County ! " 
 
 Jake stayed late into the afternoon. There were so 
 many threads of other days to pick up that when he 
 looked at his big silver watch he whistled, " Whew ! How 
 time flies without us chasin' it! I got to get home and 
 feed. Can't starve the chickens and things on Christ- 
 mas." 
 
 Before he left he shocked Sybilla by holding her hand 
 with a vise-like grasp which she knew would be futile to 
 loose.
 
 THE GUEST 329 
 
 **Say, Sybilla, I guess that engagement was never 
 broke, now was it ? " 
 
 " Why, yes." 
 
 " Oh, no ! Not my part of it. They say still it takes 
 two to make a bargain and I think it ought to take two to 
 break one. If you don't mind my bein' a little sloppy and 
 spillin' things on the floor or havin' mud on my shoes 
 sometimes, when you are so particular, why I guess, 
 mebbe, for all, you and me might get hitched up yet." 
 
 " Jake I don't know. I don't believe ' 
 
 " Ach," he laughed. " You just think about it once. 
 Mebbe when I come again you change your mind. I'm 
 comin' in soon." 
 
 " You dare come, but " 
 
 " Now, no buts, them belong in your pop's store." He 
 laughed at his own pun and even Sybilla understood it 
 and smiled. "Jake, you ain't different from twenty 
 years back," she told him. 
 
 " Yes I am. I'm nicer but you got to marry me to find 
 out how nice I'd be to you. Well, thanks for my dinner. 
 It was like old times." 
 
 After he left Sybilla had many things to ponder about. 
 Could they travel back again to the days of their youth? 
 No, but they could find happiness regardless of their age, 
 if they understood and loved each other and were ready 
 to bear and forbear. 
 
 How foolish Jake talked, thought the woman; why 
 would they want to marry when they were almost fifty? 
 Of course, she would never, never do such a thing! Of 
 course not! How nice Jake was, just as nice as ever, 
 more so! She liked to have him around and she'd just 
 make that farm of his the best home ever he had ! The 
 idea of that sister of his going off and leaving poor Jake
 
 330 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 alone for dinner on that day ! Poor Jake ! If she mar- 
 ried him but she wasn't going to marry him ! That was 
 settled. Yet she bet he wasn't sloppy like he said and 
 if he did drag mud into the house a woman didn't mind 
 cleaning up after her man when she liked him. She was 
 glad she and he had made up, but of course she wouldn't 
 think of marrying him! 
 
 Which showed that Sybilla was woman to the core and 
 that Jake stood a very good chance of gaining her for his 
 wife.
 
 THE CIRCLE COMPLETE 
 
 CHRISTMAS night and the stars shone as they must 
 have done that night when Christmas was young. Sarah 
 felt the lure of them as she stepped to the street after 
 services in St. Paul's. She walked with a happy crowd 
 of young people, now accepted as one of them, until one 
 by one they dropped off at their own doors and she was 
 left to finish the last half block alone to her house. But 
 the night was so bright and the stars and the still sky 
 called, so she went past the Burkhart gate and kept on 
 walking. 
 
 It had been a day long to be remembered. Where 
 would she find another so brimful of happiness, so run- 
 ning over with glad happenings? First the tree and the 
 loving thought of the aunts who had trimmed it for her, 
 then the friendly call of Dan and its satisfaction, the 
 coming of Jake and the weaving of a romance in her ro- 
 mantic Irish heart, then the service in the church when 
 the children sang and everybody seemed to spill the spirit 
 of the day. Now for a walk under the stars, then to go 
 in and sit a while with her family, and later to creep un- 
 der the patchwork quilt which the indefatigable fingers 
 of the aunts had pieced, to pull it close to her chin and 
 sink into quiet sleep or happy dreams. 
 
 The town clock struck nine and Sarah felt like shout- 
 ing, "All's well ! "
 
 332 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 However, she went silently down the street, the snow 
 crunching under her tread, her hands in the pockets of 
 her coat, her thoughts up among the clouds. Then sud- 
 denly they came to earth again. It was strange, she 
 thought, the rector had never come over to see her tree 
 though she had told him about it and invited him to come. 
 Well, if he didn't choose to be friendly she wouldn't care ! 
 But what had he meant when he wrote those words under 
 the sonnet and laid her cardinal flower there? If he had 
 meant 
 
 " Pig! " she cried to herself. " You got the earth with 
 a fence around it, now you want the moon ! " 
 
 As she mused some one called her name and hurrying 
 steps sounded behind her. She turned and saw the Rev- 
 erend James Snavely trying to reach her. 
 
 He breathed pantingly. " You are a walker ! I saw 
 you leave the girls and keep on past the house. May I 
 come with you ? Are you going for a walk ? " 
 
 " How in the wide world shall I answer all those ques- 
 tions? Yes, yes, I'm going for a walk and you may 
 come. I think it's too fine a night to go in so early. I 
 started to go round the block. I can do it in fifteen min- 
 utes." 
 
 " Please don't. I have several things to ask you. I 
 didn't get over to see that tree but I'm coming to-morrow 
 please don't go so fast or we'll be back before I ask 
 what I must ask to-night." 
 
 She slackened her pace, but kept silent. Her heart be- 
 gan strange antics what was he going to ask her? 
 
 " Sarah, if a man came to you and offered his love 
 would he be too late ? " 
 
 Now she knew! 
 
 " Why " She knitted her forehead, then laughed.
 
 THE CIRCLE COMPLETE 333 
 
 " That's a personal question, but because you're my neigh- 
 bor and have been nice to me, I'll answer it. If a man 
 came to me and offered me his love, would he be too 
 late ? " She thought over it as a small boy might con- 
 sider a puzzling mental problem in school. " No, I'd say 
 he were in very good time if he were the right man." 
 
 " Sarah ! Look at me ; am I the right one ? I love you, 
 I want you ! " 
 
 "You do you remember what, who I am? My fa- 
 ther, myself " 
 
 " Sweetheart, as if that mattered ! All that counts is 
 whether we love each other. I'm eternally sure about my 
 part of it ; what I want to know is whether you can care 
 for me." 
 
 " Then I'll tell you I'm loving you as only an Irish^ 
 Dutch girl can ! Don't you kiss me on the street ! " she 
 said as his arm went around her and he bent over her 
 face. 
 
 " I will ! " he whispered, and did so, but the street was 
 deserted and none of the town gossips were there to see. 
 
 " Jimmie," she said as she straightened her hat, " that's 
 dreadful ! To kiss me on the street ! " 
 
 " Then don't smile at me like that or I'll have to do it 
 again." 
 
 " Tell me," she asked, " what made you think you care 
 forme?" 
 
 " Think ? Know ! " he corrected. 
 
 " Know," she repeated obediently. " Tell me." 
 
 " Oh, Sarah, I've been tortured these few weeks. I 
 saw Dan Roth kiss your hand one night over in their 
 house and his mother smiling at you both, then she sang 
 your praises so loudly, and I concluded you and Dan 
 were engaged."
 
 334 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 "Dan and I!" The girl's laugh rang out. "Why, 
 that couldn't ever be! If you listened to town gossip 
 you'd know that he and Mary Becker are crazy about 
 each other. That kiss he gave me was just for some lit- 
 tle service I was able to do for him." 
 
 " Glory ! And I thought, I jumped to conclu- 
 sions " 
 
 "A very foolish thing to do and rather dangerous," she 
 told him. " But if you thought that, what made you 
 hurry after me to-night? Did you think you'd try to 
 steal me from Dan ? " 
 
 " No. To-night after service I saw Dan take Mary's 
 arm and the two go off alone and you join the girls. I 
 wanted to shout, for I knew that if you and Dan were 
 engaged you'd be going off with him. So I came away 
 as fast as I could to make a grab for you before some 
 other chap really could get you." 
 
 " None could, Jimmie. It's you I want." 
 
 As they neared the Burkhart home she grew serious. 
 " Dear," she said, " how much happiness can one human 
 being hold ? I thought I had all I could manage. Such 
 a Christmas I never dreamed of, and now you give me 
 more " 
 
 " Your heart is big enough for oceans of it. Sarah, I'm 
 thinking it can hold as much as you give to others, and 
 measuring by what you are giving me when you say you 
 love me and will marry me, you'll keep on adding more 
 and more." 
 
 " Jimmie ! At last the circle is complete ! I got inside 
 more than I ever dreamed, for I have you. Of course I 
 liked you and wanted to be friends but I imagined you 
 were about as accessible as the stars so far as I was con- 
 cerned. So I just dreamed about you and wished and
 
 THE CIRCLE COMPLETE S35 
 
 longed and hoped a little and didn't I get the very thing I 
 wanted but didn't dare tell even myself I wanted ! " 
 
 " I'm yours, Sarah. You read me right that first day 
 I didn't want to be drawn into that circle, now I'd rather 
 die than be shut out of it! I was attracted to you then 
 in spite of myself. I love you because I must love you. 
 Unconsciously everything you said became fixed in my 
 memory. I could tell you all about the little Maloney 
 baby you held in your arms as you sat on the curb of Red 
 Rose Court my Madonna of the Curb. A little mother, 
 trying to relieve suffering even then a Madonna of the 
 Curb." 
 
 " Jimmie, when you talk to me like that I want to cry." 
 
 " You told me once you'd rather laugh, for it keeps 
 you better looking." 
 
 " Gracious, are you going to remind me of all the fool- 
 ish things I ever said ? " 
 
 " No," he promised, " but I have many things to say 
 to you." 
 
 " Well, to-morrow is a holiday, Second Christmas, and 
 I won't have to work. You might find time to jump 
 across the hedge, perhaps." 
 
 " I might ! " His voice was eloquent of the promise 
 of love. 
 
 She let her hand linger in his as they stood by the 
 Burkhart gate. " I, too, have many things to say. You 
 know, when I was on the mountain and things made me 
 happy, so happy that they hurt, things like the sunset or 
 birds or Miss Hughes' kindness, I used to think my 
 mother knew about it and was glad. I feel that way now 
 and I'm thinking she's so glad for me this minute that 
 heaven can hardly hold her ! " 
 
 He stooped then and kissed her on the forehead.
 
 336 THE MADONNA OF THE CURB 
 
 " What a heart of gold ! " he whispered. " Good-night, 
 sleep sweet," he said as he opened the gate for her. 
 
 " Sleep ! I'll not sleep this night but sit up and tell 
 myself you love me ! And I have a wake to go to, too." 
 
 " Who's dead ? " he asked, falling into her mood. 
 
 " My fears, troubles, unhappiness all deader'n a door- 
 nail, and you did it ! " 
 
 " Which is, I am sure, the finest, wisest bit of work I 
 have ever done." 
 
 At last she had found the happy balance of woman- 
 hood, her feet tethered to earth, her soul winging among 
 the heights. At last the little child of the slums and re- 
 formatory had come into her own, the circle was com- 
 plete ! 
 
 THE END
 
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