 A Real New England Girl by Anna I. Parsons 1. The Shower 2. Oxford County 3. The Stranger and the Girl 4. The Youth and the Girl 5. Pansy and Richard Go Trading 6. The Marvelous Storyteller 7. The Dinner 8. The The Minister Comes for Tea 9. Pansy's Father 10. Pansy and Her Mother 11. Poland Springs 12. The Birthday Cake 13. Ned Patterson Comes for a Visit 14. The Blue Berrying Party 15. The Beginning of Wisdom 16. The Tempted and the Penitent 17. The Concert 18. Stanley's Ride 19. The Bench by the Wayside 20. The Banker and the Widow 21. The Bag of Nuts 22. How They Kept Thanksgiving at Little Farm 23. Hardly a Merry Christimas 24. A Call Down and a Caller 25. The Pride of Mrs. Bradford 26. A Happy New Year 27. Amusement and Winter Sport 28. Kim 29. Richard, the Lion Hearted 30. A Tour of the White Mountains 31. Talking Over the Trip with Henry Bright 32. Thoughts That Lie Too Deep for Words 33. Economics 34. His Toast 35. The Busy Haunts of Man 36. Christmas in New York 37. The Last Night of Their Visit 38. The Language Understood by All 39. Sugaring Off 40. Correspondence 41. Commencement 42. Conclusion Afterward     |
Economics "For nothing lovelier can be found in woman Than to study household good." -- Milton Pansy went back to High School and entered upon the role which is looked forward to with envy and longing by every undergraduate -- that of being a member of the graduating class. Youth yearns to move forward; old age is ever looking backward. The learned senior sees many roads open to him, all leading to success; the experienced business man knows that most roads are closed to him, and that success is attained only by overcoming obstacles in the one road. Hope accompanies one all through life, but hope is more abundant in youth than in senility. A senior is full of hope, for the probationary period is nearly over, the parting of the ways is not far distant; he will soon be in command of something. Unknown seas spread out before him. He has but to embark and the discovery of new worlds is assured. Pansy's one great hope was to continue her studies in higher branches when the course at High School should be completed. Poverty seemed likely to defer this until, at least, she herself could earn the requisite means. But in spite of the gloomy outlook, she hoped on and persevered in making the necessary preparation for college. The quiet home life left ample time for study, and a passion for reading made her easily mistress of many subjects. If opportunity knocked on the door, it would find her with candle trimmed and burning reading to enter in at the wedding of Brain and Knowledge. In her nightly petition to the Good Father she ever prayed, "Help me to make the one talent ten talents." Daily she performed the homely household tasks with cheerfulness and thoroughness. "Mother," she said one Saturday late in October, as she worked over the family accounts, "with the usual five dollars out toward the taxes and insurance fund, we won't have a penny left over this month." "Well, the money for the corn and apples will soon be coming in and that will tide us over for quite a spell," said Mrs. Bradford. "The dairy isn't bringing in much just now, but as soon as we have some new milch cows, there'll be more from that." "We had twenty bushels more potatoes this year than last, and we can sell our surplus stock as soon as Uncle Will gets them sorted." Pansy was thoughtfully twirling her pencil about in her fingers and looking out of the window. "And, mother, we ought to begin picking over beans evenings and getting them ready for market. I will write Mr. Rice in Boston today and see if he doesn't want to take ours this year. You know he gave us a very good price last year for our Improved Yelloweyes." "I wish you would, Pansy, and be sure we keep enough on hand for our own use." "We can figure out almost exactly how many to keep. There are fifty-two weeks in a year and we need a quart every Saturday to bake and some to donate for church suppers and a few extra quarts in case any of the neighbors run short. Three bushels of good clean beans will be enough for that and for seed beans next spring." "Now, Pansy, I wish you would go down cellar and measure the vinegar in the cask. The last time I drew any, it seemed to me it was getting low. The other cask has only been ripening for two years and it won't be good to use for another year to come." "I know what we can do to urge it along -- mix some of the old vinegar with the new, and that will hasten acetification. Did you know, mother, that all vessels of the United States bound for a foreign port must carry vinegar and lime or lemon juice, so that the sailors won't get the scurvy?" "No, Pansy, where did you find that out?" "I read an article on maritime law of the United States, and it is real funny how Uncle Sam provides for his sailor boys. It is just as though a father were placing his children in some one's care and gave written instructions of how to look after their diet. A half pint of vinegar every week and lime or lemon juice and sugar at the rate of half an ounce a day must be served to each member of the crew on a United States vessel. If the master fails to attend to this, he is liable to a penalty of one hundred dollars for each offense." "As vinegar seems to be of so much importance, run down now and see how our cask is holding out." "I surely will." Pansy disappeared through the cellar door, and soon up from the darkness floated the jingling chorus of a school song: "Then tell all the glory of his name; Sing all the story of his fame; You'll find no man like my Uncle Sam Though you search the world for the same." "There's just three gallons of vinegar left, mother," she said, as she re-appeared in the living room. "That equals twenty-four pints. At the rate allowed to seamen, that would last one person forty-eight weeks, and there are five of us. The pickles and chow-chow and catchup are all made, but you will need some for souse when the pigs are killed. Mr. Prime has the best vinegar in the neighborhood. I guess we better try to trade off half a shoat with him, and take three or four gallons of vinegar in part payment and the balance in carpenter work. We must have a new window put into the kitchen before cold weather sets in and some of the doors need repairing. Richard and I will stop in and see him some night coming home from school and fix it up." With as careful an eye for results as members of a banking firm have when placing the money deposited with it, mother and daughter made plans for utilizing the family resources. They had long been accustomed to co-operate in this work, for Ruth seldom interested herself in household affairs, and Richard and Mr. Alden could be relied upon to back up any feasible scheme for bettering economic conditions. The ability on Pansy's part to look at a proposition and quickly arrive at the correct ratio and proportion had somehow impressed itself on the minds of her class-mates. They regarded her as a very practical sort of girl, and when it came to choosing a staff for the Chronicle, a bi-annual published by members of the senior class, it was unanimously voted that she act as business manager, although heretofore such office had been given only to the most capable and influential boy in the class. So in addition to preparing senior studies, adjusting household accounts, doing chores, and taking the long ride daily to and from school, Pansy began canvassing among tradesmen, artisans, and professional men about town for advertisements in order to raise the amount necessary to pay for the printing of the Chronicle. In this work, she was nearly always accompanied by Richard. Those who had sons and daughters in High School were not hard to convince of the merits of the school paper as an advertising medium, but those who had no such connection sometimes needed considerable persuasion before pledging themselves to pay for advertising space. After the home town had been thoroughly canvassed, neighboring towns where the Bradfords were little known were visited on Saturdays, and here real skillful work was required to obtain results. The man who was prejudiced against schools in general because of incapable clerks had to be appeased; the man who was willing to take space, but wanted first to exhaust his little stock of jokes at her expense had to be tactfully dealt with; the man who was too busy to be interviewed had to be patiently waited for. When the last half page of space was finally disposed of, Pansy breathed a sigh of relief. "The Chronicle is going to be a success financially anyway," she said to Richard, as he turned the horse's head homeward. "If you hadn't answered that snap dragon's question accurately, he'd never have taken that space on the back of the cover. What was it he asked? A man comes into the store and orders 7½ gallons of kerosene at 12¾ cents per gallon, what is the total amount of his bill? Lucky we quiz each other in mental arithmetic now and then just for fun or you'd never been able to have answered him so quickly. That gave him such a set back that he thought he'd try me in spelling, and when I spelt hierarchy and concatenation without wincing, he began to think our High School was some good after all he'd said about the inefficient modern schools that don't give any attention to the three R's." "Trifles won't be pleased a little bit to know there'll be more than enough from the advertising to pay for publication. He's been working himself up into a nettle over Chronicle. I heard him tell Dean Winters he'd have to re-write and improve the editorials even if he has to work on them in study hours. He says the articles that go into the paper reflect on the school, and it's mighty important that they have some class to them and show a progressive spirit. Dean's all right on a debate or in getting up an entertainment, but it's my opinion Trifles thinks him a pretty punk editor-in-chief of Chronicle." "Trifles is hard to please in some respects. He seems to think students should be like those machines they have in the west, where you put in the unthrashed wheat at one place and take out a perfect loaf of bread at another place. However, I hope he'll egg Dean and the rest of the editors on so that we shall have a good paper. I want to send a copy to Stanley. You know he sends me Spectator every day and Jester every month, so I know that Columbia College isn't a myth with its fabulous wealth and ever increasing endowment fund." "I suppose they have the streets paved with gold bricks around Columbia." "I don't know about that. If they do, I guess they'd like to exchange for some of our green grass. Stanley says their athletic field is only about one-fourth as large as our clover piece, and there are so many to use it, that, in order to get proper training for their games, the contestants have to practice running through the streets of the city where there are trolley cars, automobiles, motor cycles and other conveyances, all rushing madly for their destinations." "I don't wonder Stanley likes to live down here on his father's farm where he has at least space for athletic training." They jogged along in the cool November air and reached home about sun down with keen appetites and contented minds. Click Here for Chapter 34 |