Neighborhood Stories

es, “we got to get some ch

er, meditative. “How

las, snappy. “Don’t you

charity was givin’ things away. Then I had a spell I use’ to think

d some and s

ty, Calliope Marsh, is doi

words of Silas and I longed to feed ’em to him some time. But I just to

down the street like he was waiting, for something that there wasn’t any such thing,{28} and he knew

,” says I. “

er feet yet,” s

mother’s r

r fingers yet,”

’re

he says. “

I; “will it let y

ermometer actin’ up zero, s

lvanized iron garbage tank us ladies bought and run one season, collectin’ up garbage? Well, I dunno but what we’ve got to sell it, the Counci

I’d be glad,” says he, kind of plea

p to a peak. Everybody liked Absalom—he had such a nice, one-sided smile and he seemed to be so afraid he was going to hurt your feelings. He’d broke his right arm in Silas’s canning factory

d in the canning factory and the gas-works and on the tracks, and the women helped out. And one or two of ’em had took down ill; and so it was Silas, that likes to think of things first, that up and said “d

s feather broke, was old Bess Bones. Bess has lived in Friendship Village for years—and I always thought it was real good for the town that she

vegetables from her own garden, and eggs. Sometimes some of us asks her to set down to a meal. Once she brought me a picked chicken of hers. And it’s good for Frie

says. “I got kind o’ lonesome and I thought I’d

” I says. “I’m go

eetin’?” she sa

s true, of course, being politics is so{31} often

” she says, wistful. “I sung to revival mee

ne,” I says. “Come to see me to-m

idn’t know why. But I says to myself, comforting, that she’d probably of broke out and sung in the middle of the me

roportion, there being only fifteen hundred living in Friendship

s, when the meeting was open, “is to get s

hat?” asks

ributin’ duds and v

y, “and keep on distributi

weary in well-doing. Them folks’ll keep right o

?” says Mis’ T

folks, ain’t they?”

plady; “but that ain’t a

ou mean?”

dy, “can’t they be got goin’ s

you know no more about folks than that?” says he. “F

s. You’re leavin’ ’em as they are,

ith her way of measuring of

Folks are rich, or medium, or poor. We’v

that wrinkles up her nose meditative. “It don’t follow out,”{33} she say

ykes, real witherin’

hought,” says Mi

over their head

wise. It’s come to my notice that the Haskitts had four different chickens give to ’em last Chri

“then let’s organize. That a

e ever loves to be, and Timothy treasurer, and me

et’s get down to work

tasteful. “They ain’t got the s

s,” says Silas, tolerant. “Take the Haskitts.{34

“When I went to get the rent the

ey give you, Tim

” he says, pur

t. on the money. I don’t s

thing, though; I ain’t give ’em any repairs. If I’d had a six-dollar family in there I’d had to f

burn, out of the store. I’ll take ’em on my list. You can’t go givin’ ’em truck,

Mis’ Ricker ain’t fit to wash, and the children just

says Timothy. “He’s y

een chasin’ me for damages eve

t any, Silas?” says M

I told him to lay off till I could fix ’em. But no—he kep’ right on. Said his wife was sick and hi

Abigail and at Mis’ Holcomb, and we all looked at each other. Only Mis’

hat case, Mis’ To

all. And so on during all the while we was discussing the Doles and the Hennings and the Bettse

ut I feel like we’d made a nice, new apron to tie on to Friendsh

pron, “I’m sure I don’t see what you mean. Faith, Hope, and Charity, and t

hat I think is this: Ain’t there things that’s gr

. “Will you tell me what?” she says, as mad as i

unno the name of it. But ladies, it’s somethi

ffice Hall again, we started out with the things, so’s to make our report to the meeting. Mis’ Toplady and I was together, and the first place we went to was Absalom Ricker’s. Gertie, Absalom’s wife, was washing, and he was turning th

, “how you getting on now

gun to cry. She was a pretty little woman, but sickly, and with on

,” she says. “I can ea

he didn’t have no washings, then

lack-luster, and like i

” says Mis’ Toplady,

ain’t no place to go. I went d

one note; the children yelling when they wasn’t shouting. I thought of their cupboard and I could see what it must hold—cold{38} boiled potat

’d brought, and it seemed to me these touched the spot of what was the trouble in that house about as much as the smoke that oo

” she begun, sort of embarrassed; but Absalom, he c

we?”

y, stumbling some over he

roots of his hair. “What

“Why,” she says, “us—and you. You belong to it. We had it in the paper, and m

at?” says

some put to it, “to—to do ni

n?” says

s finding something to explain with. “We meet again to-morrow night,

ooked sheepish and then he showed pleased.

ss-up?” sa

, “it’s every-day. Or not so m

” says

is’ Toplady, kind of took aback; a

eting, you know,” I says. “I’m afraid he’

it no more’n nothing in this world,” she says, “but I dunno—when I begun han

spine with a virtuous feeling—but something big was always setting somewhere inside me making me feel asha

we heard about Joe’s losing his job, and we talked to the canary. “We’d ought not to afford him,” Mis’ Betts says

look like they was going to die. And we went to the Doles’ and the Hennings’ and carried in the stuff; and one and all them places, leaving things there was like laying a ten-cent piece down on a leper, and

f this here club?”

Charity” to that club for anything on earth. We told him we was goi

rds,” Mis’ Toplady adds, calm as her hat. And when we got outside: “I dunno what made me stick on the coffee and the sandwiches,” she say

s, so be the rest of the Board stands on its head at the id

o the post-office store and told Silas that we’d been giving out a good m

as, genial; “that’s goo

to-morrow night, Silas,” says Mis’ Toplady

” says Silas. “You can’t mix up charity and society too free. Charit

, Silas? Well, us two is going to do the coffee and sandwiches fo

ft the store, Mis’ Toplady thought of something else: “I dunno,” she says, “as we’d ought to leave folks out just because they ain’t po

ne population, just the same

Bess{43} Bones again, kind of creeping along. She’d stopped to pat the nose of a horse standing patient, hitched outside th

says. “Are you comin’ do

says—able now to hold up my head like my skull intended, because I felt I

, like putting

meeting again—I’ve looked in the window at ’em a

iled shiny and the sandwiches covered with white fringed napkins. And about seven o’clock in come three pieces of the Friendship Village Stonehenge Band we’d got to give their servic

ected to cover up where there wasn’t a necktie and her pretending the hall was chilly so’s to keep her cloak on over whatever wasn’t underneath. And the Haskitts, him snapping and snarling at her, and her trying to hush him up by agreeing with him promiscuous. And Mis’ Hennin

ail—and when he see the Rickers and the rest of them, he

rses and Henningses{45} and Bettses and them—how we goin’ to ma

ociety was formed on their account. Seems to me they’ve go

cases and talk ’em over with them setting there, taking it all

it, Congress always does do its real busi

y was ready

e don’t do so very much business to-night? Let’s set some other talk go

being proud to sinning of his visiting niece;

Toplady. “She’ll do

that{46} he’d been right down managed. T

ng set up half the night before to make them out. And of course, the job was some de

ing presents to others and for distributing the same. Several families was thought of for membership. It was voted to have two kinds of members, honorary and active. The active pay all the dues and provide the presents, but ever

s of committees, Mis’ Toplady was no less ready for him. She hopped right up to say that the work that had been put in her hands was all finished, the same as was ordered,{47} and no more to be sa

a pause. And all of a sudden Absalom Ricker got

t to be some place where folks could go that didn’t believe alike, nor vote alike, nor get paid alike. I’m glad I come out—I guess we all are. Now the purpose of this here club, as I understand it, is to do nice things for folks. Well, I’ve got a nice thing to propose for us to do. I’ll pitch in and help, and I guess some of the rest of us will. Soon as it come

prophet men that can see faint signs sticking up th

that don’t have horses or chickens can sense th

all of us home a good deal of the time—we could keep it goin’, amongst us. All righ

refreshment table, and that had bought the wagon, we all burst out and spatted our hands. We couldn

kind of sour—being in the Council s

ys he, “and it’s a good deal in the way wher

went on anyhow. And the purport of his remarks was, that he could set that tank in the barn of his lot, that he didn’t have no horse for and no use of

p some rugs for two-three places, and who could give some and help sew them? Mis’ Sykes said she could, and Mame and Abigail a

ld, and all of a sudden I knew that he wanted his wife to be taking some part like the rest was; and she says, faint, “I guess so.”{50} And when Mis’ S

e’ll meet to my house next Tuesday at two

eting?” says Silas, balancing on his

and the plume that was broke in the middle was hanging idle, not doing any decorating; and I could see the other ladies thinking with one brain that ten to one she’

don’t you clean up the floor? I never see such a hole. I motion I come in an’ scrub it up. I ain’t

otion!” says

each other and felt the kind of a feeling that don’t run around among folks any too often. And when Silas put the motion, kind of grud

d Joe Betts, Mame Holcomb and Eppleby, Gertie and Mis’ Toplady and me—we all felt it. Everybody did, unless it was Silas and Mis’ Sykes. Silas didn’t sense nothing much but that he hoped the meeting was going t

} feeling. And this feeling was sort of like all two. And I betted if only we could make it last—Absalom wouldn’t be getting done out of his arm’s money-value by Silas, nor the Bett

f when she most wants to cry. And I never said a word—I didn’t need to—but we nodded and we both knew what we both knew: that there was a bigger thing in the room that minute tha

ng more so—the music, and our all setting there hearing it together, and everybody in the room being givers, and nobody givees. But when the music

ight,” she says with her little formal pucker. “Ain’t the Chari

. It just bare happened it wasn’t

anyhow, and everybody’d get the wrong idee. Let’s call it just its plain natural name: T

ense to keep still right thr

ub ain’t big enough. For if they is any other u

ehind the refreshments screen and says: “Mr. President, the coffee and sandwiches h

med to come in so pat that everybody rustled, spontaneous, in

picking up the dishes when Sil

“wasn’t it a splendid

he hot stove-door handle, rather th

he says. “You fed ’em, even

h done! Oh, Silas, what more did you wan

meeting was that?” says he, so

ringed tea-napkins in my hands that it was go

was a folks’ meeting. It was a human meeting. Can’t you sense it? {55}Can’t you sense it, Silas?” I

” he snaps back, and

him tranquil over the tops o

says she—and went on hunting