Hope Mills: or, Between Friend and Sweetheart

"Industry must come around in the fashion again. Even the despised patchwork doubtless had its uses. It taught children to sew, and to manage economically. I remember that I once had three quilts on hand at one time. The larger pieces went into the first, and so on. My last one was a very pretty little thing, and I saved all the scraps for it. Yet we often hear people laugh about the folly of cutting calico into bits to sew together again. Why should it not be considered honorable and respectable to put every thing to the best use?" and Miss Morgan glanced up with a confidence no one could gainsay.

"That is the grand secret," cried Sylvie, – "making economy honorable. You never see the nice old families flaunting their best silk and their point-laces on ordinary occasions. Something is kept sacred. And I do think there is more real economy among them, than among those who absolutely have a need for it. If wastefulness could once come to be considered a sin of ostentation and low-breeding, it would not have so many followers. Some people do it because they are afraid of being thought mean; but if they could be trained to that bravery of spirit that makes a work of beauty out of the poorest and smallest things because they are well done, and fitting to the place and season" —

"Bravo!" said a laughing voice as the door opened. "Mrs. Darcy, when the committee of ways and means have worn out your carpet by their frequent meetings in your charmed temple, you must insist upon their buying you a new one. Good-morning, ladies! Miss Barry, I set out to find you; and your aunt fancied you would be here, the place of all waifs and strays. I want you and Miss Morgan to go and inspect a room, or rather two rooms, to see if they will answer our purpose. Mrs. Lane had a school there."

"Oh, I know the place!" began Sylvie eagerly, buttoning up her sack again, and looking smilingly in Dr. Maverick's face, that had a sparkling wholesomeness born of the fresh air and brisk walk. And whenever he caught her eye with this light in it, so friendly and earnest, a thrill sped through his veins.

Miss Morgan was soon ready, and the three started. The place was only a few squares away, in a block of buildings where the stores on the lower floor stood empty; indeed, some of them had never been rented. Up-stairs there was one large room with three front windows, and a smaller room at the back with a fireplace, sink and water, and a large closet.

"I have had the offer of this place rent free until spring," began the doctor. "I have also collected fifty dollars in money and provisions, —imprimis, one barrel of flour, one box of miscellaneous packages, rice, barley, corn-starch, &c., – and a second-hand range that will be put up as soon as you decide. In return for my arduous exertion and great benevolence, I shall call upon you now and then for meals or delicacies for my sick and famishing."

"You are just magnificent!" declared Sylvie, in breathless pleasure.

"I am desirous of getting this experiment started; and, since we shall have to help the poor and needy this winter, I shall put my gifts into this. Now you must consider what you want for furnishing. Biddy McKim is to work out a doctor's bill cleaning the place; Ward Collins will let you have ten dollars' worth of house-furnishing goods on another bill. I am going to look up all my bad debts to start you two women in business!" and he laughed gayly.

"Very good," said Miss Morgan, while Sylvie's face was still blending pleasure and astonishment.

"We are going to reform Yerbury, you see. The parsons tried their hands last winter; and, though there was need enough of spiritual food, there's something else required as well, while we are here in the body. You think the rooms will do? I want you to put a large table in that one," – indicating the larger with his head, – "and we'll get two or three long benches, and have a tea-party now and then. Well, Miss Morgan, now you may take the floor. I see a crowd of ideas in your face."

"I am going to propose that when the place is cleaned, both floors shall be painted to begin with. Then a simple mopping up will keep them bright and fresh. Some idle half-grown boys can do it, I am sure; or I can do it myself – it would not be the first time."

"I'll look over my accounts, and levy on some delinquent," said the doctor. "I like that idea."

"Can we make out a list now?"

"Why, of course. Put down about all the things you will be likely to need, and I will have them sent if they do over run the account. Biddy will come to-morrow, and clean. Now, you can hardly have the school open every day unless you get more assistance, so I think I should take it at first two days in the week."

"A very good suggestion," replied Miss Morgan.

"It might not be sufficiently attended to warrant more than that. My experience has been that nearly every housekeeper considers herself a finished cook."

Maverick laughed.

They discussed necessary articles of kitchen paraphernalia, and finally walked down to Collins's store, and made their selection. Early the next morning Bridget McKim was on the spot: the place was cleaned, the stove put in place, the floor given one good coat of paint. Two days after, the second one was added. Sylvie drew up a code of regulations. The school would be open Tuesday and Friday, all day. The dinner would be cooked and eaten; the baking, and whatever was left over, divided among the scholars to take home. Miss Morgan was elected president, Miss Barry vice-president, a secretary, a treasurer, and two in an advisory board. At each session two ladies were to be present, and give instruction.

Invitations were sent to all likely to be interested. Dr. Maverick used his strong influence wisely. The idea amused some, others wondered how ladies like Miss Barry knew about cooking and economy.

"Let her undertake to live on the money we common folk have, and she'll see!" exclaimed Mrs. Stixon. "Our kind don't want to learn fussin' and fixin' of puddens and pies and such like! Good for us if we can get a mess of biled potatoes and bacon. My gals'll get along athout any such larnin'."

They opened one Friday morning with seven pupils; a discouraging number, Sylvie thought, when she saw the spacious room and the nice preparations. The bashful girls sat in a little huddle, looking very much as if they were afraid of being laughed at.

Miss Morgan was equal to the occasion. She made a short, sensible address, and hoped the girls who were present would interest not only their companions, but their mothers and friends. Then she questioned them a little. Had they ever boiled potatoes?

At this they all laughed a little foolishly, and looked as if the art of boiling potatoes was held in rather low esteem.

"The dinner for the day," announced Miss Morgan, "will be boiled potatoes, broiled steak, and corn-muffins. Which of you girls would like to try the muffins?"

"I never heerd of such a thing," said one girl timidly.

Sylvie pleasantly corrected the speaker.

"Well, you may try," said Miss Morgan. "First, read this recipe aloud."

Mary Moran stumbled through it, partly owing to ignorance, and the rest to feeling very much abashed.

"Please go through it again, Mary," said Sylvie, in an encouraging tone.

This time she did much better.

"Now you may prepare the table and the dishes, and one of the girls may measure the meal and the flour. Put the ingredients in this dish – so. Keep your mind on the recipe. What comes next?"

Mary was quite awkward. Miss Morgan corrected the slightest mistake. The other girls stood around in wondering amusement, and now and then a little titter broke out. But Mary went on, gaining courage. The tins had been set on the stove, now a bit of butter was put in each one, and stirred around, then the dough dropped in. This was quite entertaining.

"What did I say about the oven?" queried Miss Morgan.

The class looked aghast a moment, then one girl said quickly, "That the oven-door must be hot enough to hiss."

"Right. Try it and see."

It was in the proper condition. Mary slipped in the two trays of pans, shutting up the door. "To look at them, and turn them around in twelve minutes, and in twelve more to try them with a whisk," were the final directions.

The potatoes were brought out next. Miss Morgan asked each girl to pare one, which they did in various uncouth ways. One girl cut off the skin in square bits, leaving a figure that would have distracted a geometrician; another ran round it rapidly, leaving in all the eyes; and out of the six potatoes there was but one neat and shapely. Miss Morgan held it up.

"There is an art in so slight a thing as peeling a potato," said she. "It is very wasteful to cut it away in this manner, or this, and careless to leave in the eyes. Now each of you may pare another."

The second attempt was a great improvement. They were put on to boil; one girl was detailed to watch them, another to prepare the steak, while a third arranged the dinner-table in the kitchen, as the family was to be so small. Mary looked after her corn-muffins. They had risen up like little pound-cakes, and a glad smile illumined her rather stolid face.

Sylvie had brought a bit of tatting along, and now took it out.

"Oh, how beautiful, Miss Barry!" exclaimed Kitty Miles. "I can do just the plain little scallop; but I never could get these other jiggers!"

Sylvie laughed, "I believe they have a name beside 'jiggers,'" in an odd, half-inquiring tone.

"O Miss Barry, we girls can't talk nice like you!" and Kitty blushed.

"I don't see why you cannot with taking a little pains. All words that are not names, and 'what-you-may-call-it,' and 'Mrs. Thingumby,' and such expressions, are the result of carelessness. If any thing has a name, that is the proper word to be used; and by being watchful one comes presently to talk in a lady-like manner. Now I will show you about these."

"Oh, my muffins!" cried Mary, rushing to the stove. They were quite brown. She tried them with the whisk.

"Some stick a little bit, Miss Morgan."

"Push the pan back to the other side. Indian requires very thorough cooking or baking, or it will be soggy, and have a moist and not agreeable taste. Try your potatoes now."

In a few moments they were done, and Kitty Miles undertook the steak. Mary let her muffins stand a moment or two, then turned them out. Two or three stuck fast, and broke: the rest were a perfect success. She was delighted beyond measure. They had no tea or coffee, but they gathered around the table, and enjoyed the meal very heartily. Sylvie desired them to ask any questions they liked; and by the time they were through, their awe of Miss Morgan had quite vanished.

Afterward followed dish-washing. This was made quite a science, as well. They had hardly finished when Mrs. Miles and a neighbor came in, and through the course of the afternoon the numbers doubled. Mary begged that they might make some muffins to take home: Miss Morgan assented, and the girls had quite a gay time. But the oven was not precisely right.

"Open the draughts a little. Although not so hot, the oven is very steady now. Close the draughts in five minutes."

Mary forgot, and the result was that some at one end were a little burned.

"Why, they're elegant!" exclaimed Mrs. Miles. "And what a cheap, hearty supper they'd make, when one has three hungry boys to feed! Mrs. Stixon, now, was thinking you'd go into all the fancy branches. I didn't know ladies ever" – and Mrs. Miles paused suddenly, her face scarlet.

"Ever had occasion to practise economy!" cried Sylvie with her piquant smile. "They do a great deal of it, Mrs. Miles. My aunt would no sooner think of being wasteful in her kitchen than she would of wearing her velvet dress out on a rainy day. There is a neat, pretty, tasteful method about these things, that is as much of an art in its way as painting a picture, and in some respects a more important one, for the health of the body depends upon well-cooked food."

"Since Kitty's nothing much to do, I mean to have her come every time. I'm sure you ladies are very good to take so much pains."

The other officers dropped in. The cost of the materials used was ascertained, minutes of the session made, and a recipe for corn-muffins given to each girl. It was decided to attempt biscuit on the following Tuesday, and on the next meeting, bread. Then the fire was pretty well poked out, the stove-lids raised, and the class went home in an extremely interested spirit.

Just as Sylvie and Miss Morgan had turned the corner, they caught sight of Dr. Maverick, who crossed the street to speak. Sylvie described their day with a few graphic touches, interspersed with much genuine mirth.

"Some people were afraid to come," said he. "Before a month you will have your hands full."

Sure enough, on Tuesday there were fifteen scholars. Miss Morgan and Sylvie had hardly a moment to spare until the dinner was through. Then the latter proposed that every scholar should bring some sewing, garments they wished cut out, any thing that perplexed them, or whatever they would like most to learn.

All days were not so fortunate. Occasionally some dish would be spoiled by haste, carelessness, or want of attention. There were burned fingers and divers cuts; but Miss Morgan patiently explained her deft, neat, labor-saving methods. There began to be a great interest; some of the mothers coming in for an hour, or bringing a special dish to cook. Sylvie discussed the relative value and nourishment of different articles, the many changes that could be made at slight expense, the saving that a little carefulness brought about. She gave brief lectures on cleanliness, order, taste, and neatness; the right way and the wrong way of doing many things, the giving out and the taking in; the art of making the best, not only in such times as these, but in all times; of being brave and true in the lowest and smallest of life's duties; of throwing out false pride and shams, and the desire to appear richer or grander than one's means would allow.

Then the last half-hour they had what Miss Morgan called an inquiry-meeting. Everybody was at liberty to ask one question, and those who knew answered it to the best of their ability. New teachers were pressed into the service. Dr. Maverick gave them a talk on health, and another on preparing food for the sick, and the special care some diseases required. And Jack Darcy proposed that Christmas Eve the cooking-school should give a supper, the tickets being at the low price of twenty-five cents. Every dish was to be cooked by the scholars.

It created a deal of excitement. Hard as times were, the tickets sold rapidly. The large room had two long tables, with benches for seats. The first table was to be served at eight o'clock, the second at nine. Sylvie made a dozen of the girls pretty Suisse aprons and dainty caps, and they waited on the guests. Dr. Maverick offered three prizes, – one for the best loaf of bread, one for the best plain cake, and a third for the nicest and cheapest invalid broth.

The room was full, and they had a very gay time. Indeed, it seemed as if half Yerbury turned out, either from honor or curiosity. At nine o'clock they ran short of provision, when they honorably decided to refund the money for all tickets offered after that, and explain to new-comers the state of affairs. But some of the young men proposed a dance; and they went on for the next two hours in hearty, healthy jollity.

Out of ten loaves of bread offered, Mary Moran took the prize. That for the cake was awarded to quite a new scholar; while Kitty Miles carried off that for broth, three doctors concurring in the decision. And the treasurer found they had cleared fifty dollars above expenses, so that it proved a success in more ways than one. There had been a great dearth of amusement for the poorer classes in Yerbury this winter.

"Sure, it was just splendid!" said Bridget McKim. "My boy Mike had a week's wages in his pocket that night, and he was goin' off to the Ivy Leaf to raffle for a turkey; an' ses I, 'Mike, ye niver took me out of a Christmas, so do it now along o' the cookin' school party, an' ye'll get the best bit o' turkey yes ever put in yer mouth.' An' so he did; an' he said it was the best show he iver was to, and he wouldn't 'a' missed seein' Mary Moran get the prize fur twice the money. An' so he went home with me, ye see, as sober as an owl, and we bought our own turkey; but if he'd gone to the tavern, not a cint would he had of his week's wages, and been drunk beside! An' he used to be swate on Mary too, so there's no knowin' what may happen!"

The school took a fortnight's vacation. Sylvie and Miss Morgan felt that it was no longer an experiment. It would be put to wider uses, and perhaps was the corner-stone of a great work, sorely needed in this world; the same kind of work Jack Darcy had begun over in the mill yonder, – planting beacon-lights on the path where so many had stumbled and gone down for want of true and honest guidance.

"It will have to be remodelled somewhat," said Miss Morgan. "I can't have you working like a slave, even if it is in a good cause. There is something still higher for you."

CHAPTER XVIII

After the first of January it came off bitterly cold. Coal went up half a dollar on a ton; and flour rose, more by the greed of speculators than any scarcity, or any demand for it abroad. There was considerable suffering, though not as much as the winter before. The men and women and boys and girls at Hope Mills were thankful enough for their seventy-five per cent, and did their very best. A spirit of economy and emulation ran through the whole brotherhood. Every month Cameron announced whatever saving had been made in different departments, and the hands were proud enough of it. Those who had taken their whole winter's coal out of the share were quite jubilant. Once a week the workmen had a meeting, and discussed matters a little. Three men had been reprimanded, but on the whole the morale was excellent. Winston was on the alert continually, east, west, anywhere, buying here, selling there, seeing in every thing the promise of better times.

"We've reached the last ditch as surely as they did in the war," he said to Darcy, rubbing his hands in great glee. "I tell you, old chap, it was a lucky thought of starting just as we did. You see, we shall come up with the good times; for I do honestly believe the worst is over."

Jack smiled, but was not so sanguine. They had only gone such a little way on the five-years' journey. But there were some very encouraging rays right around them. Kit Connelly's coffee-house was working to a charm. Jack began to think that drinking liquors was not so much a besetting sin, as a natural sequence of having nothing else to drink when you were cold or hot, or tired or hungry. The men fell into the habit of going to Kit's for their midday lunch, and presently some of the women went over. The room was so bright and pleasant; and, with Miss Rose there, they were on their best behavior. In the evening Mrs. Connelly brought her work, and sat by the desk. Some of the younger men, who had no homes; as one may say, dropped in, and looked over the books. Once two young chaps had come up from Keppler's to have a little fun, as they said, and were rather noisy. Mrs. Connelly rose.

"Gentlemen," she said, "you forget yourselves. This is an orderly, quiet house, not a tavern. If you cannot submit to the rules, you must leave it."

"Leave it! Come, who'll put us out!" laughed the bully. "Let's see you try," with an insolent leer at the lady.

Two men were sitting at a table just a little back of them. Their eyes met. Both rose; and, each seizing a shoulder of the bully, he was marched out before he could make the slightest resistance, his companion looking on in amazement.

"Next time you insult a lady in her own house, you will not get off so easily! Just bear that in mind."

The fellow uttered an oath, but the door was shut in his face.

"Thank you, John Kelly, and you, Ben Hay," said Mrs. Connelly, in a brave voice, though her heart fluttered a little.

The other young ruffian rose, and walked out quietly.

"If you didn't mind, Ben Hay," she said, an hour or so after, as they were shutting up for the night, "I'd like to have you drop in quite often of an evening. The boys are hardly big enough if we should ever be beset by such scamps as that, and you've always been so friendly-like."

"Yes," answered Ben, flushing, and casting a sheepish look at the desk, where Rose's curly head was bent over her accounts. "Yes, I'm at your service. It's enough sight cheerfuller here than in Mother Mitchell's boarding-house. I'll be glad to come."

"Thank you."

Miss Barry heard of this, and told it over to Jack.

"Ben Hay is a good, plucky fellow. He used to go down at noon for beer, but I do not think he has been since the coffee-house was opened. Sylvie, do you know, I believe reformers in general would be more successful if they put a good and pleasant thing in the place of the evil they assail. Too often they leave their convert to pick his way alone. Hay is very much interested in the plans of the mill. The meetings have done this much already, – a spirit of inquiry has been awakened in some of the men, and they are reading up what other people have achieved in this line. I want them to get well grounded before there comes any strain. We can't go on prospering forever. That would be too much like fairy-land."

"But every one thinks the panic nearly at an end," and Sylvie studied the grave face before her.

"I do not want to croak," and Jack gave a little laugh that sounded forced, "but we have just begun to pay off our debts. Every city and town, and nearly every individual, is in debt. If we could pay with promises to pay, we might tide over a while longer; but when interest reaches a certain point, it swallows capital. If we can meet our indebtedness everywhere, as fast as it matures, well and good: if not, then we have only nibbled at the crust of our bitter pie."

"Anyhow," cried Sylvie, with the woman's sanguine nature, "Yerbury is a great deal better off than it was last winter. Every one admits there is much less suffering."

"There is more employment, and no broken bank," with a cheerful smile.

"Do you know," said the young girl presently, while a faint color went wandering over her fair face, "that they are doing a marvellous stroke of business at Garafield's, even if the times are bad? Mrs. Garafield was down to tea a few evenings since, and she was greatly encouraged. There is such a rage about the new style of papering. Everybody has run mad on dados and friezes, and fresco patterns, bordering, and harmonies of color," laughingly. "And they have some wonderful new designs."

"Fred is in just the right place. If he has courage to fight through," and there came a curious, almost foreboding expression in the sympathetic eyes.

"You care a good deal for him, Jack! And yet he did not use you nobly," with a peculiar regret in the tone. "It is the one thing" —

"Sylvie, if I forgave it, surely you can." Then he turned his eyes upon her, and read or rather dreamed of something in a dim, dazed way, the story of a bygone summer. Had it been more to her than any one thought? Miss Barry had hinted to his mother that Sylvie's decision in the matter was a great disappointment to her. There had been a decision, then, and one adverse to Fred Lawrence.

"I hate a false and cowardly man!" her cheeks were flaming now. "And when you were schoolboys together, – when Agatha and Gertrude were so afraid he would lower himself if he looked at any boy below his own social position, – he used to stand up for you, – yes, he did, – and fight; of course not in a brutal way with fists," and she laughed at her own conceit, "but in that higher, finer manner, with no shield or weapon save his love for you. I used to like to see you together, – you so sturdy and manful and true, and he delicate and handsome and adoring. And then" —

"Sylvie, I wonder if a woman can understand a man's friendship. We never had any quarrel. We just drifted apart. I don't believe we forgot each other. Circumstances took him out of my sphere, into a new one. If I had been there in college, going along with him step by step, don't you suppose he would have stood up for me in the face of his fine friends, just as he used to with his sisters?"