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GIRL ALONEBy ANNE AUSTIN
THE WHITE HOUSE, PUBLISHERS, CHICAGO
Copyright, 1930, by ANNE AUSTIN
PRINTED AND BOUND IN THE UNITED STATES
BY THE WHITE BOOK HOUSE, CHICAGO
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER I
The long, bare room had never been graced by a picture or a curtain. Its
only furniture was twenty narrow iron cots. Four girls were scrubbing
the warped, wide planked floor, three of them pitifully young for the
hard work, the baby of them being only six, the oldest nine. The fourth,
who directed their labors, rising from her knees sometimes to help one
of her small crew, was just turned sixteen, but she looked in her short,
skimpy dress of faded blue and white checked gingham, not more than
twelve or thirteen.
"Sal lee," the six year old called out in a coaxing whine, as she
sloshed a dirty rag up and down in a pail of soapy water, "play act for
us, won't you, Sal lee? 'Tend like you're a queen and I'm your little
girl. I'd be a princess, wouldn't I, Sal lee?"
The child sat back on her thin little haunches, one small hand plucking
at the skimpy skirt of her own faded blue and white gingham, an exact
replica, except for size, of the frocks worn by the three other
scrubbers. "I'll 'tend like I've got on a white satin dress, Sal lee "
Sally Ford lifted a strand of fine black hair that had escaped from the
tight, thick braid that hung down her narrow back, tucked it behind a
well shaped ear, and smiled fondly upon the tiny pleader. It was a
miracle working smile. Before the miracle, that small, pale face had
looked like that of a serious little old woman, the brows knotted, the
mouth tight in a frown of concentration.
But when she smiled she became a pretty girl. Her blue eyes, that had
looked almost as faded as her dress, darkened and gleamed like a pair of
perfectly matched sapphires. Delicate, wing like eyebrows, even blacker
than her hair, lost their sullenness, assumed a lovely, provocative
arch. Her white cheeks gleamed. Her little pale mouth, unpuckered of its
frown, bloomed suddenly, like a tea rose opening. Even, pointed, narrow
teeth, to fit the narrowness of her delicate, childish jaw, flashed into
that smile, completely destroying the picture of a rather sad little old
woman which she might have posed for before.
"All right, Betsy!" Sally cried, jumping to her feet. "But all of you
will have to work twice as hard after I've play acted for you, or
Stone Face will skin us alive."
Her smile was reflected in the three oldish little faces of the children
squatting on the floor. The rags with which they had been wiping up
surplus water after Sally's vigorous scrubbing were abandoned, and the
three of them, moving in unison like mindless sheep, clustered close to
Sally, following her with adoring eyes as she switched a sheet off one
of the cots.
"This is my ermine robe," she declared. "Thelma, run and shut the
door.... Now, this is my royal crown," she added, seizing her long,
thick braid of black hair. Her nimble, thin fingers searched for and
found three crimped wire hairpins which she secreted in the meshes of
the plait. In a trice her small head was crowned with its own
magnificent glory, the braid wound coronet fashion over her ears and low
upon her broad, white forehead.
"Say, 'A royal queen am I,'" six year old Betsy shrilled, clasping her
hands in ecstasy. "And don't forget to make up a verse about me,
Sal lee! I'm a princess! I've got on white satin and little red shoes,
ain't I, Sal lee?"
Sally was marching grandly up and down the barrack like dormitory,
holding Betsy's hand, the train of her "ermine robe" upheld by the two
other little girls in faded gingham, and her dramatically deepened voice
was chanting "verses" which she had composed on other such occasions and
to which she was now adding, when the door was thrown open and a booming
voice rang out:
"Sally Ford! What in the world does this mean? On a Saturday morning!"
The two little "pages" dropped the "ermine robe"; the little "princess"
shrank closer against the "queen," and all four, Sally's voice leading
the chorus, chanted in a monotonous sing song: "Good morning, Mrs... Continue reading book >>