Polly of Pebbly Pit Part 6

"Of all things! And _this_ is what I hev to sleep on!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the insulted maid. "Wall, we'll see about that!"

The sheets and newly patched quilt were designated as "ornery" but the printed spread, patterned to imitate blue torchon lace, drew a murmur of admiration from the woman. Sary quickly changed her robe of mourning to a calico house-dress and went out, determined to speak her mind about that awful mattress! She never thought such a rich man's house would have so common a thing as "combin's"--even if it was in the "help's" tick!

But the wonderful odor of boiling cabbage made her forget her complaint for the time being. She went to the stove and lifted a lid from the large kettle. She sniffed audibly.

"Um! Ah loves cabbige soup, Miss Brewster!"

"Do you, Sary--so does Mr. Brewster. If you will watch the meat frying, I will blow the horn to call the men to dinner."

Mrs. Brewster waited until Sary began thickening the gravy, then she took the horn and stood upon the door-step, blowing it several times.

It was then hung back of the kitchen door again.

"Polly! Come now, dear, and wash up for dinner," called Mrs. Brewster, standing in the doorway that led to the family living-room.

Presently, the family, augmented by Sary, sat down in the kitchen for dinner. Jeb, the hired man, had followed in after his master, and had been introduced to the new help; he now watched her capable hands and arms as she swung the soup-kettle from the stove.

"Just a moment, Sary!" whispered Mrs. Brewster, warningly.

Sary looked around in surprise and saw the others with bowed heads, waiting for her to get rid of the pot and fold her hands. It took her but half a second to understand and follow the leading.

The ranchers of the Rocky Mountains and plains are most orthodox church folk. They would as soon steal or murder as to miss "meetin'," or work on a Sunday. And most of them have regular family prayers and long services at home whenever opportunity offers.

Sam Brewster was not one of the latter kind but the longer the grace he said, the better a man he thought he was. In every other way, so liberal and kind, it was not consistent for him to act so narrow-minded regarding religion.

Once the grace was said, the host unfolded his napkin and looked to Sary for the soup. The soup-pot had been taken up the second time and was about to be placed in the middle of the table where every one could serve themselves as they wished, but Mrs. Brewster gave her a look and sign that was incomprehensible. She was confused for once in her life.

"I'll serve the soup this noon, Sary, and you can pa.s.s the plates,"

remarked Mrs. Brewster, seeing her maid did not understand.

And now Sary beheld a new order of things! Soup that was dipped into plates and pa.s.sed until each member at table had a dish before him.

Large white napkins that were not tied about the neck but spread over the lap! How funny it seemed that the small red-flowered squares Sary had been accustomed to when company came were nowhere in evidence.

As the meal progressed, Sary's wonderment increased; she failed to hear familiar sounds of eating, nor saw the usual form of plying knife and fork together.

Immediately after dinner, Polly led her mother to John's room. "Maw, I'm going to use those new shades I bought for your Christmas gift, and put them at the windows of the girls' room."

"Oh, Polly, don't you think plain white ones will look nicer?" quickly replied Mrs. Brewster, as she beheld the pea-green Holland decorated with monster bronze roses and huge b.u.t.terflies.

Polly felt disconcerted for the moment as she realized that her mother's tone implied disapproval of the change. But she would not admit that possibly the white would improve the bed-room.

"Why, Maw, you know how much I paid for those shades last Christmas.

The man in Oak Creek said they were the grandest ones in Denver!"

"Maybe _he_ thought so, Polly, but we must remember that his taste in art has lacked cultivation. Now I prefer pure white shades, or curtains, for a bed-room window," said wise Mrs. Brewster, leaving her daughter to wonder whether she liked pure white for the living-room, also.

But Polly had enough human will and stubbornness in her make-up to resist the suggestion offered by her experienced mother. "Well, I'll tell you what we'll do, Maw: I'll just put these lovely shades up till after the girls see them, then we'll change to white. I think it will be best to keep these new and clean for the front room, but I want the city girls to _know_ we've got such expensive things in the house."

"Polly dear, that is foolish. I have always tried to teach you otherwise. What matters it, whether you display gorgeous 'feathers' if the thing be false? Simplicity and wisdom are the rarest adornments of a home."

"There you go again, Maw, lecturing me with your wise old saws,"

laughed Polly, jumping upon the chair to fit the shades in place.

Mrs. Brewster smiled but said nothing. She knew how soon her child would learn good from bad, once she came in contact with strangers. And so well had the mother grounded her daughter that she had no qualms about the result of any contacts.

Mrs. Brewster watched while Polly finished the placing of the dreadful shades, then she looked about at the colored prints tacked upon every available spot of rough plaster-walls. Her brow puckered at the conglomeration of subjects and sizes of the chromos, but she knew how carefully Polly had saved every one of them that had arrived with tea or soap, so she pa.s.sed no audible judgment.

"Oh, Maw! I have another great idea!" cried Polly, jumping from the chair and clapping her hands.

"Yes?"

"Let's move Daddy's sofa into the bedroom and place it at the foot of the bed, just like the pictures in the _Farm Journal_ show us! Then we won't have to have the single bed brought in from the barn--Anne can sleep on the bed-lounge."

"I really think Anne Stewart will prefer a bed, Polly, even if it is small," gasped Mrs. Brewster hastily.

"Then we'll change later. It won't take a minute to move the sofa in and it will look so citified to the girls who most likely have divans or sofas in their bedrooms at home."

"I think they will like the difference--not having their country bedroom look like the city one. A complete change always is better than a similar environment, especially if the city rooms are more artistically furnished than the result of _our_ efforts."

"Now, Maw, don't you want me to surprise them with the sofa John gave Paw and you, long ago? I'm sure they won't hurt it," coaxed Polly.

"Oh, I'm not thinking of any damage. I was wondering how Anne would like to sleep on a folding sofa instead of in a bed."

"She won't mind; and she'll be glad to see her friends impressed by the bedroom furniture," quickly explained Polly.

"Well, then, call Sary to help you shove it in, while I go and find those braided mats we made last winter," said Mrs. Brewster in a tone of resignation.

Polly needed no second consent, but ran out to call Sary. The sofa was soon wheeled from the chimney-nook into the bedroom which adjoined the living-room at the back. Once it was placed at the foot of the heavy walnut bed, Polly whipped off the cretonne covering that always hid the hideous plush-carpet upholstery.

As the slip-cover came off and revealed the red and green and purple design, Polly glanced at Sary to see the effect made.

"Oh, laws! Ah never see'd sech a sofy! Ain't it grand?" breathed Sary, lost in admiration.

"Sary, it opens, too!" announced Polly, condescendingly pulling at the strap that moved the spring to turn the half into a low bed.

"Well, suhs! What next? Yoh Paw must be a milyonaire, sh.o.r.e!"

"No, Sary; John saved his money for selling chickens and a calf, and got this for Paw and Maw, when he went to high school in Denver. Oh, we had an awful time carting it from Oak Creek to Pebbly Pit through all the snow and weather!" explained Polly.

Mrs. Brewster laughed at the remembrance but told Polly that she hoped she would keep the cover on the sofa.

"You don't mean me to cover up the velvet, do you?" asked Polly, aghast at the suggestion.

"Perhaps Anne will sleep better if the flowers are out of sight,"

remarked Mrs. Brewster, softly, but with amused sarcasm.

"You-all mought better do that, Miss Pollee, cuz them colors will git sun-streaked in this bright light," added Sary.

"I am not worrying about the fade, Sary, but over the fact that the young teacher and her friends will think we _prefer_ such crude articles of furniture, instead of tolerating them just because my dear children denied themselves to give us pleasure. It is their motive and delight that we all felt in the gifts, more than the objects which showed immature judgment," explained Mrs. Brewster, slowly and thoughtfully.