PIECES OF LAUGHTER AND FUN (7 page)

"Pa, would you give it back?"

"Give what back?"

"Whatever you confiscated."

"I'll have to think about that," he said. "If you don't leave your belongings around, you won't have to know, will you?"

On the way to school, I talked it over with Sarah Jane.

"Do you think your pa would really do that?" she asked.

"I'm sure of it," I replied. "He doesn't say stuff unless he intends to do it. Once he told me that if I slammed the door one more time, he'd teach me how to close it."

"Did you slam it again?"

I nodded. "And he taught me how to close it. I opened and shut the back door for half an hour. I don't think I've slammed it since."

"Half an hour!" Sarah Jane exclaimed. "I would have cried until he let me stop."

"Then you'd still be doing it if you had my pa," I told her. "He thinks you should cry because you're sorry you did it, not because you're being punished. He can tell the difference, too!"

"I guess you'd better be careful where you put your things," Sarah Jane advised me. "You might lose something you can't live without."

I agreed, and for some time I took particular care to pick up my books and toys and clothing, and keep them out of pa's sight. The boys were careful, too, and ma was delighted.

"My, it's nice to open a drawer and not find someone's slate pencil in among my tableware," she said. "If the suggestion works that well, we may never have to try it."

Ma was too optimistic. Unfortunately, I was the first offender.

One of the big evenings of the school year came at the end of the spring term. Parents and school board members gathered to hear reports of what had been learned during the year.

Those who excelled in mathematics worked different problems for the visitors. The best science students prepared exhibits. There was a spelldown to choose the best speller for the year, and there were readings and recitations.

Excitement ran high the last month of school as we prepared our part of the program. This year I was to be in the spelling competition as well as give a recitation. As usual, I was concerned about what I would wear.

"Ma, do you think I could have a new dress for the program?" I asked. "I'll do extra dishes and help you if you could make me one."

"I think I saved some dimity that would make a nice dress," she said. "We'll look after supper."

The cloth was white with a small blue flower. When the dress was finished—with a ruffle on the neck and yoke—I thought it was the prettiest thing I had.

"We'll try to find a blue to match the flowers 'for a sash," ma said. "I think you have the right color hair ribbons."

"Oh, ma, it's beautiful," I sighed. "No one is going to look as pretty as I do."

"I hope you sound as good as you look. Remember, beauty is as beauty does. You can ruin the most gorgeous dress in the world by being haughty about it."

On Saturday we found the sash, and my dress was complete for the following Friday night.

As ma brushed my hair that evening, we, talked about the program. "Do you know your piece?" she asked.

"Oh, sure, ma. I've known it for weeks. Do you want me to say it for you?"

She nodded, and I recited the poem I had learned for the occasion.

"That's fine," she said when I had finished. "If you do your best in the spelling bee, Miss Gibson will be pleased with your work. And so will we.... How do your good shoes look? And did the sash match your ribbons?"

I ran to my room to get the sash and ribbons. When I picked up my shoes, I noticed a loose button on one of them.

"That sash is a good match," ma said when I returned to the kitchen. "If you'll put those back and bring me a needle and thread, I'll fix this button. I'm glad you noticed it."

I dashed out to get what she needed. While ma worked on my shoe, I sat down at the table to read.

"It's all finished," ma announced. "Don't forget to take these things back to your room."

"I won't, ma," I assured her. "I'm almost through with this story."

I was still reading when the boys came out to the kitchen.

"We would like to get our baths if you don't mind, your highness," Reuben said. "How about going to your own room now?"

"I don't have a lamp in my room," I protested. "I only have two more pages. Can't I finish while you get your bath ready?"

"Go ahead," Reuben answered. "But be quick about it. And don't forget to take your stuff with you when you go."

"Thanks, Reuben," I said, and went back to my book. I was through in a few moments. Tucking my book under my arm, I hurried off to bed. I didn't remember my clothes until I was snuggled down under the covers.

I can't get them now
, I thought.
I'll do it the first thing in the morning
. And I promptly fell asleep.

The next day was sunny and beautiful. I sang to myself as I dressed for church. After I had fastened my one shoe, I felt around under the bed with my foot for the other shoe. Suddenly I recalled where I had left it. Quickly I hopped to the kitchen door.

"Ma, would you please hand me my shoe?" Ma looked up from the stove. "Where did you leave it?" she asked quietly.

I looked at the chair I had been sitting on the night before. The shoe was not under it. My heart sank.

"Did pa confiscate my things?" I asked timidly.

"Yes, he did," said a voice behind me. It was pa.

"But, pa, this is Sunday!" I pleaded. "I'm aware of that."

"I can't go to church with one shoe on!"

"Why, no," pa said. "I wouldn't make you do that. You'll have to wear your school shoes to church."

My mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Ma!" I wailed. "I can't wear my everyday shoes to church!"

"You haven't much choice," ma replied. "You only have one good shoe."

I turned and raced back to my room, sobbing loudly. I wouldn't even go to church. In fact, I wouldn't eat breakfast with the family. The boys would laugh, and everyone at church would see my old shoes.

By the time ma called me for breakfast, I had decided not to add disobedience to my other errors. I came quietly to the table—with my school shoes on.

I ate silently, an occasional tear dripping into my bowl. Surprisingly, the boys were sympathetic.

"Pa, did you think about whether you'd give back our things if you found them?" Roy asked.

"Yes," pa nodded. "I thought about it. I decided I'd return them to you on your birthday."

My spoon dropped with a clatter. "But,
pa
!

My birthday isn't until June! What about the program?"

"I'm sorry, Mabel," pa said gently. "But you were reminded, weren't you?"

I nodded. I had been reminded at least three times.

"Do you think I should go back on my word?"

I shook my head miserably. I was upset, but I knew pa was being fair. I cried a lot that week, especially when I remembered that I wouldn't be able to wear my new dress, either, because pa had my sash and ribbon.

On Friday evening, we dressed for the program before supper. Ma put a big towel around my neck while I ate.

"Just a precaution," she explained. "You are getting better about spilling."

I was nervous about the evening, and chattered more than I ate. When prayers were over, I began to help ma clear the table.

"Mabel," pa said, "come here, please."

Surprised, I went over to stand in front of him.

"I'm going to give you your shoe and sash so you may wear your new dress tonight." I couldn't have been more astounded. I had never known pa to go back on his word. "But, why, pa?"

"Because I love you," he said simply. "I want you to know that there is a time for justice and a time for mercy. God doesn't give us the blessings of life because we deserve them, but because he loves us. Could I do less for my little daughter?"

"Oh, pa!" I cried, and threw my arms around his neck.

He hugged me tightly for a moment. "Here, here," he said, "we haven't much time. Roy, let me work on your hair, and, Reuben, you hitch up Nellie, please."

We all hurried to finish getting ready. That evening was as nice as any I can remember.

GRANDMA, UNCLE ROY, and I were sitting around the kitchen table in the old farmhouse. We had just sampled some gingerbread, hot from the oven, and I was listening to grandma and her brother as they talked about the farm.

"The house really could stand some paint, Roy," grandma said. "How long since it's been done?"

Uncle Roy's eyes twinkled as he replied. "It's been painted since the barn has."

Grandma began to laugh, and I knew that they both had remembered something from their childhood.

"Tell me!" I begged. "What happened that was funny?"

"I have to get back out to work, so you'll have to tell her, Mabel," Uncle Roy insisted. Grandma got up to clear the table and began the story....

I was about nine years old when ma began to campaign for the house to be painted. We had lived in this house since pa moved us from the log cabin when I was only four years old. It had not been repainted since then.

"Aren't you just a little bit ashamed of the way this house looks?" she asked pa. "The paint is peeling dreadfully."

"Why, no," pa replied innocently. "I hadn't noticed that it looked too bad. In fact, it looks pretty good to me."

Ma sniffed. "It would look good to you if it were falling down around your ears."

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that," pa replied. "I think I'd notice if it fell in on me."

From time to time, ma continued to hint that new paint would be acceptable to her. Pa either didn't hear, or chose to ignore her. Finally, as spring gave way to summer, ma seemed to be getting someplace.

"The garden is in and the spring rains have about ended," she announced one morning. "Do you think the weather will hold for a couple of weeks?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," pa replied. "The almanac doesn't predict any rain for the rest of this month. Things are growing well, though. We need the sunny days for the wheat."

"Then this would be an excellent time to paint!" ma declared triumphantly.

Pa looked out the window. "You know, I think you're right. Maybe I could get a couple of the Carter boys to help me. I think I can pick up the paint while I'm in town Saturday. I wonder how much it will take?"

Ma's mouth dropped open in surprise. She had obviously expected some excuse.

"I'm sure Mr. Clapp could tell you how much you'll need," she said happily. "You can start right away on Monday. What color will you get? ... I think white or pale yellow would look pretty."

"Um, yes," pa murmured. "We'll see. I'll take care of it."

As ma and I cleared the breakfast dishes off the table we discussed the painting.

"I think yellow with white trim would look good," I suggested.

"I'll settle for anything pa brings," ma replied. "I'm so tired of seeing the place look like no one cared about it."

"I can help pa," I offered. "It's a good thing school is out so I'll be right here."

"I'm sure the men won't want you hanging it around," ma replied.

"Oh, ma! I'd be careful. I could paint the back where it won't be seen from the road."

"I'd just as soon my house looked as nice from the back as it does from the front, thank you. It won't be any job for a little girl."

I was disappointed, but I knew that ma's word was law. However, I determined to stay close and watch. It wasn't every day that something exciting happened on our farm.

"We get to help paint," Roy announced at suppertime. "Pa says we're big enough to be of some use around here."

"I'm glad to hear it," ma said. "You can fill up the reservoir with water after supper. Reuben, you can bring in more wood. That will be very useful."

The boys groaned and pa chuckled. "Guess you'll be careful what you say from now on. Ma can keep you busy anytime you're available."

On Saturday, pa loaded the wagon with a plow to be sharpened and a harness that needed a new buckle, and left for town. I couldn't keep my mind on my chores for watching the road.

"He hasn't had time to get there yet, let alone buy paint and get back. Patience certainly isn't one of your virtues, is it?" ma remarked.

"I'm just excited about it, that's all. I can see how nice it's going to look."

"I can, too," ma said. "I guess all my prodding did some good. Although I must admit, I'm surprised he gave in without more of a struggle."

Ma and I ate dinner alone. Then she suggested that I run over to see Sarah Jane for the afternoon.

"I guess I'd better not. I might not get back before pa does. I want to be here when he brings the paint."

However, I was helping ma put supper on the table when pa and the boys drove in. They went directly to the barn and unloaded the wagon; then they came to the house to wash.

"Did you get it, pa?" I clamored. "Did you get all the paint? Will you be ready to start on Monday?"

Pa nodded. "Yes, we got it all. But I won't be able to start Monday after all. Jed Carter wants me to go with him to buy some cattle. I think I may get us another heifer."

"That's good," ma said. "One more day won't make that much difference. What color did you get—white or yellow?"

There was no answer. Ma looked around at pa, who had his face buried in a towel. "James?"

Pa cleared his throat. "Well, actually, neither one."

100

"Neither one? I thought we had decided on those colors. What did you get, then?" Pa looked uncomfortable. "Red."

"Red!" ma cried. "Why on earth would you buy red? That's not a color for a house! The only thing that's good for is the . . ."

Ma stopped suddenly and sat down at the table. "James," she said quietly, "are you planning to paint the barn?"

Pa avoided looking directly at her. "Well, yes," he mumbled. "I thought I would."

"You said you would paint the house."

"Oh, I will. Just as soon as the barn is done. You can see how badly it needs it, can't you?" He looked appealingly at ma.

Ma got up and went back to the stove. Something in her eye said that pa would hear more about the matter when we children were out of earshot.