Suzanna Stirs the Fire
porch, where seated in a little rocking chair she stared straight before her. She felt as one thrown suddenly from a great height. One moment s
its sun had ceased to shine for little Suzanna, since the crownin
lickering through rows of open lace; but no more could she dream, since that lace was now condemned to blindness,
lization that now the dress was ingloriously what Maizie had termed it, a pale pink lawn at ten cents
t it as it hung shrouded in cheese cloth in the hall closet upstairs. No longer did she look forward with del
orming her customary duties, findin
to cope with a child so complex, so changeable. She determined to treat the new mood with indifference, as being the most potent method. So she asked of Suzanna the performance of daily duties just as usual. When she discovered Suzanna ga
d taken Maizie in
ter told her husband one evening, "to
his color book. "I can remember even now my own sensations when
memory back over the e
anna takes everything so very seriously. And Maizie stares at me too, with a little bewildered expression. It's strange that Maizie, with all her literalness, can understand at times Suzanna's
nventor father, an 'impractical genius,
d up angri
yards of garden hose a week was a fine measure of success. "And your name will go ringing down the ages." She would never let him lose conf
conversation ended on the personal note; ended with hands clas
next morning, sought her mother up
bottle is emp
Procter. "Will you run over to Mrs. Reyno
she left the house, walked down the front path and across the road to Mrs. Reynolds'
d, opened the door. She gave out redolently the pun
from Welsh parentage, she fitted into the life of Anchorville only because of a certain natural adaptabil
, her resonant tones, all her quick changes of mood, and her occasional stran
ften there was one thing she coveted from he
n and in that deplorable fac
d Suzanna
and red pepper all morning," she continued, as she went her way
anna, with immediate sympath
ynolds with a sigh. "Here's your vinegar. Ho
And then: "I don't see why you should worry. You have no child
out you all," returned Mrs. Reynolds.
her way to glance about her. "My, but you're very clean here," she said, a
tter things up," said Mrs. Reyn
s morning, Mrs. Reynolds. We heard the slam in our dining-room and my mother jumped
s, I know he did. That man is get
y, Mrs. Reynolds. He wasn't like
ver her head and sobbed: "That's just it, Suzanna, that's
er own home seemed rather overdone were actually missed here! A strong, deep sympathy for Mrs. Reynolds' disappointment grew within her, but did not entirely
e how you feel about cutting pink goods away
t little face. Then with quick understanding which revealed her real mother-spirit, she answered: "Why land, H
ink this thought over and over: 'Reynolds is not going to be cros
tion of all details before she said anything to those most nearly concerned in her new move. Only to Maizie, whose constant attendance she s
Maizie; and tonight you must manage t
Though she could send up no airships of her own,
ing, Suzanna,"
ars by the exercise of great control. They were upstairs in their own room. It was late after
be, and what is to be is for the best." Suzanna quoted from
urning quickly wit
ndow so as to tell me wh
nna flew downstairs to the kitchen, then returned to her work. At last, Maizie in excited t
all finished
er. Now the tears came, b
" said Suzanna, trying to
ed Maizie in a small voice, touching the crux of
wouldn't be a rose blossom, you see, Ma
ilities. Vague stirrings told her that the artist in Suzanna had been desperately hurt; and for the once her imagination thrilled as did her
y to Suzanna and
all I can, si
bered with Suzanna-crept down the stairs and into the parlor where her father sat studying, as always, a formidab
e to stay awake till the clock stru
ed to Suzanna's ways, unfolded the note, smiled at the large printed letters, sighed a little at the thought of the
ving
ays makes more work. And anyway one little girl out of a big family wont make any difrunce. But if you want any fine errands ran, you can borrow Mrs. Reynolds new child. Tell father I am loving my naybor as myself. It hurt me till something stopped inside to see Mrs. Reynolds put her apron over her head at Reynolds slams. Perhaps the mother angel that stops at our house all the time will pause at Mrs. Reynolds' next time and leave a bundle, thinking when I'm there a f
ell f
na Re
to cut away the goods from under the lace in my pink dress, I wouldn't have adopted myself out to her. So I shall see you when I recite "The Little Martyr of Smyr
, attracted by the strange, almost sol
ed while he read it through not
o her. "Shall we go
how to act where Suzanna's concerned," she said. She