Jasper County Democrat, Volume 10, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 August 1907 — Mistress Mary [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Mistress Mary

By TEMPLE BAILEY.

“Don’t you ever get discouraged?” he asked. “How does your garden grow?” asked the young man who leaned over the fence. “Oh, dear,” little Miss Mary told him, “look at it.” There bad been eight neat llttio plots laid out In the empty city lot Miss Mary, the settlement worker from across the way, hod brought her little girls over, and they had dug and planted and trained, and yesterday there liud been beans climbing sturdily up the poles, and tomatoes already blossoming, and parsley and lettuce ready for salad, and radishes. "And now look at It” said Miss Mary again. It was trampled and torn and the little plants lay In the dust. “The neighbors’ boys did It” Miss Mary said, “your boys.” “Are you sure?” asked the young man. “Yes.” Miss Mary said; “one of my little girls saw them.” “They are a bad lot,” said the young man, with a stern setting of his lips.

“I am afraid I shall have to give them up.” “Oh, don’t,” said little Miss Mary; “they need you all the more because they are bad. Don’t give them up.” He smiled at her. “Don’t you ever get discouraged?” he asked. “Sometimes,” she “when things like this happen,” and her hand swept out toward the ruined garden. “We had planned to pick the lettuce this morning, and we were going to have It for lunch with our bread and butter.” “I tell you,” said the young man. whose name was Oswald Gunning. “I’ll make the boys give the little girls a treat. It’s better than punishing them, and, what’s more, I’ll make them come over with it.” “Do you think they’ll do It?” asked Miss Mary, Interested. “Yes, I’ll tell them how disappointed you are in them. They won’t care what the little girls think, but-they are awfully fond of you, Miss Mary.” “Oh,” said little Miss Mary, with a blush. “They show their good taste,” said the young man earnestly. ‘T am awfully fond of you myself.” “You mustn’t talk such things to me,” said little Miss Mary, but her eyes sparkled. “Mistress Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow?” he sang under his breath, and then he said: “I shall say It whenever I like, for It’s true. I am very fond of you—very, very fond.” “The little girls are coming,” said Miss Mary severely, “and you’d better go.” So, still singing under fills breath, he went to the public playgrounds to meet his class in physical training. “I am ashamed of you,” he told them a little later as they sat before him sheepishly. “Here I have spent my time upon you, and all I seem to have taught you is how to make a lot of little girls unhappy.” “Aw, gwau,” protested Jim Dovesky from the front row. “And you have made Miss Mary unhappy,” said the teacher, with increasing earnestness, “and she was crying when I got there this morning—crying over that poor little garden.” “Aw, gwan,” murmured Jim again, and there were other apologetlcal murmurs from the background. “It seems to me,” Gunning told them and watched the effect of hia words, “that we ought to make it up to them somehow.” He had the boys there. They had expected punishment, and now he proposed restitution- It took their fancy at once. “Sure,” came the hearty chorus. “We can’t make the little garden grow,” said their teacher, “we can’t bring life to the little dead plants, and that’s a pity, too, hot we can let the little girls know that we are sorry. They were going to pick file lettuce today and have It with their bread and

hotter for lunch, and you know then Isn’t anything nicer than vegetables ; from your own garden.” There were various proposals, but Jim Dovesky’s was the most popular. "Let’s buy thirty little pies, and each girl will have one for her lunch.” With visions of indigestion, Gunning protested, but the idea took like wild; fire. There was a hasty pooling of finances, and a delegation of boys started to the nearest bakery. "I tried to switch them off to berries or ice cream,” Gunning explained later to Miss Mary, “but I couldn’t And it’s the Idea, not the article.” "Yes,” Miss Mary agreed. She was standing in the middle of the ruined garden, with the little girls digging in the eight little beds. “It’s nice of them, and I only hope the little girls won’t lie ill.” Her voice was tired, and she looked warm and weary. “Poor Httle Mistress Mary,” said down at her. “Has it been a hard morning?” “The girls nearly cried their eyes out,” she said. “They wept on my shoulder in bunches, and it was wearing.” “I wish you would weep on my shoulder,” said the impertinent young man. “It would help you a lot and I should like It immensely,” hud wbeu she reproved hlui he went away singing: “Mistress Mary, quite contrary. How does your garden grow?” which of late had become a most popular song with him. At noon the Boys marched Into the settlement bouse with the pies, and Jim Dovesky made the speech of presentation. “It’s a peace offerin’,” he said with • flourish; “git on to It.” And the little girls, round eyed and forgiving, divided their bread and butter and divided the little pies and made the boys stay to lunch. “Which spoils the lesson, but settles things up nicely,” said Gunning. “According to all laws the boys should have suffered. As it Is, I am the only one who suffers.” Miss Mary stared at him. “You?” was her startled question. “What do I get out of It?” he demanded. “What do you want?” she asked, Innocently enough, but her swift blush betrayed her. » i_. “I want—you,” was his bold statement. She shook her head, but before she could open her lips he begged, “Don’t be contrary, Mary,” And she laughed at that, tremulously, and after a little she said, “I won’t”

“DON’T YOU EVER GET DISCOURAGED ?" HR ASKED.