For, indeed, she was almost the very busiest small body in the world. Besides her own mother’s five other children there were the neighbors’ broods, big and little, with never a soul to mind them save their self-constituted nurse.
That very morning Mrs. Bump had paused in her washing to look up and exclaim:
“I never did see how the little things do take to her! She can do just wonders with them, that she can; and I reckon it was about the best thing ever happened to her, that falling out the top window, like she did. Seemed to knock all the selfishness out of her. Maybe it’s that settled in her poor body. Yes, maybe it’s that, dear heart. Anyhow, her inside’s all right. The rightest there ever was. If this world was just full of Mary Janes, what a grand place it would be!”
Then, after a regretful sigh for this beatific2 state of things, the mother thrust her strong arms again into the suds, with a splash and a rub-a-dub-dub which told plainly enough from whom Mary Jane inherited her energy.
Just then Mrs. Stebbins thrust her head out of the window, next door, to remark:
“There was fifty-four of them gardens given out. My boy’s goin’ to raise cabbages.”
“You don’t say! Now, ain’t that fine? I wish I had a son to get one, but all my boys is girls, save the baby, and he don’t count. Though he’ll grow, won’t he, mother’s lamb? He’ll grow just as fast as he can and get a playground garden, good’s the next one, so he will, the precious!” chirruped Mrs. Bump, to the year-old heir of the house.
“Gah, gah!” cooed the baby; and emphasized his reply by losing his balance against the wall and rolling over on his face. He was too fat and too phlegmatic3 to right himself, so Mary Jane hopped4 back across the narrow room and set him up again, laughing as if this were the funniest thing she had ever seen.
“Pshaw, daughter! If I was you and you was me, I’d leave him lie that way a spell. He don’t ’pear to have the sense the rest of you had, no he don’t, the sweet! Maybe that’s because he’s a boy. But even a boy might learn something after a while, if he was let. Only you’re so right on hand all the time he expects you to just about breathe for him, seems.”
“Now, mother, now! And you know he’s the biggest, roundest—”
Mrs. Bump wheeled round so sharply that her rubbing-board fell out of the tub and scared the baby, who promptly7 began to scream.
“Why father! You home? It can’t be dinner-time, yet. What’s happened? Anything wrong?”
“Is anything ever right?” demanded the man, sulkily.
“Plenty of things,” answered the wife, cheerfully, though her heart sank.
“One of the right things is my getting kicked out, I s’pose.”
“Father! you don’t mean it! No.”
“I’m not much of a joker, am I?”
“No. That you’re not. But tell me, man.”
With a quiver in the usually cheerful voice, Mrs. Bump wiped the suds from her arms and went to her husband. Laying her hand kindly8 upon his shoulder she demanded, as was her right, to know the facts of the disaster that had befallen them.
“’Twon’t take long to tell, woman. The company’s cuttin’ down expenses and I was one of the expenses lopped off. That’s all.”
“Is that all—all, William Bump?”
“It’s the truth, any way. No matter how it happened, here I am and no work.” With that he dropped his arms upon the window sill and his face upon his arms, and lapsed10 into a sullen11 silence.
Mrs. Bump caught her breath, whisked away a tear that had crept into her eye, and returned to her tub. Mary Jane ceased staring at her parents, tipped the baby’s home-made go-cart on end, rolled him into it, righted the awkward vehicle, threw its leather strap12 over her shoulders, called to the children: “Come!” and hopped away upon her crutches.
Though she paused, for just one second, beside her father and imprinted13 a hasty kiss upon the back of his bent14 head. A kiss so light it seemed he could scarcely have felt it, though it was quite sufficient to thrill the man’s soul with an added sense of regret and degradation15.
“We’re off to the park, mother, and I’ve taken a loaf with me!” she called backward, as she clicked out of sight.
Again the woman idled for a moment, looking through the open doorway toward the small, misshapen figure of her eldest16 child as it swung swiftly forward upon its “wooden feet.” The baby’s soap-box wagon17 rattled18 and bumped along behind, bouncing his plump body about, and drawn19 by Mary Jane in the only manner possible to her—with a strap across her chest. She needed both her hands just then to support herself upon her crutches; for her lower limbs were useless and swung heavily between these crutches—a leaden weight from which she never could be free.
Even so, there were few who could travel as rapidly as Mary Jane and this morning she was especially eager to get on. Because down at the pretty park upon which her own dingy20 street terminated, the children’s “Playgrounds” had been opened for the summer and the small gardens given out. She was anxious to see the planting and seed-sowing, by the tiny farmers of this free kindergarten, and down in her heart was a faint hope that even to her, a girl, might a bit of land be assigned; where she, too, could raise some of the wonderful vegetables which would be her very own when the autumn came and the small crops were harvested.
The hope was so deep and so intense, that she had to stop, turn about, shake up the baby and tell him about it.
“You see, Baby Bump, they don’t give ’em out to just girls. Only I’m not a regular plain kind of girl, I’m a crippley sort. That might make a difference. Though there’s Hattie Moran, she’s lame21, too. Not very lame, Baby, only a little lame. She doesn’t have to have crutches, she just goes hoppety-pat, hoppety-pat, easy like. Sophia Guttmacher, she’s a hunchback, same’s me, course, but she can walk. Besides that she doesn’t want a garden and I do. As for Ernest Knabe, his foot’s just twisted and that’s all. Then, too, he’s a boy. He could have one if he wanted. He’d have to dig one, I guess, if it wasn’t for his foot. Oh! Baby dear. Do you s’pose I might—I might, maybe, get one?”
“Goo, goo,” murmured the infant, encouragingly, and vainly trying to bring his own foot within reach of his mouth.
“Oh! you sweet! You can’t do that, you know. You’re far too fat. And I declare, all the other children have gone on while I’ve stood here just talking to you. That won’t do, sir, much as I love you. Sit up, now, there’s sister’s little man, and I’ll hurry up.”
But just then, Baby made a final, desperate effort to taste his toes, lost his balance, and rolled forward out of his box, as a ball might have done.
Mary Jane, burst into a peal22 of laughter which recalled the other children to the spot and she explained between breaths:
“The cute little fellow was trying to make ‘huckleberry-bread’; I do believe he was, the darling! Well, he’s so round it doesn’t matter which way he tumbles, and he’s so soft nothing ever hurts him. Does it, precious?”
They all lent a hand in setting the infant right again. Several holding the soap-box level, a couple supporting Mary Jane without her crutches which left her arms free to lift and replace the dislodged baby. When things were once more in order the caravan23 started onward24 afresh.
By this time the small, dingy houses bordering the narrow unpaved street had given place to open lots and weedy patches, where the sun lay warmly and a fresh breeze blew. To the right of the open space was a railway embankment, and on the left there was the cling-clanging of a mighty25 steel structure, in process of building. The railway and the monster “sheds” belonged to the same company for which William Bump had toiled—when he felt inclined—and by which he had just been discharged.
Mary Jane had been accustomed to look for him, either along the rails, with the gang that seemed always to be replacing old “ties” by new ones; or else serving the skilled workmen, who hammered, hammered, all day long upon the great metal girders. As she now caught the echo of these strokes a pang27 shot through her loving heart and for a moment her sunny face clouded. She need look no more, to either right or left, for the blue-shirted figure, which had been wont28 to wave a salutation to her as she passed with her brood of nurselings.
Fortunately, the baby was on hand to banish29 the cloud, which he promptly did in his accustomed manner—with a slight variation. For his small charioteer had not observed a big stone in the path, though the loose ricketty wheel of the wagon found and struck it squarely. This raised the soap-box in front and its occupant performed a backward somersault.
Mary Jane picked up the little one, who smiled, unhurt; and the others helped her shake him back to a normal condition and pose. After which, the park lying just before them, between the railway and the buildings, they scurried31 into it, and over the slope, and around to a sunny spot where scores of other little people were hard at work or play.
“Hi! Mary Jane! Oh, Mary Jane!” shouted one and another; and the kind-faced “teachers” who guided the wee ones, also nodded their friendly welcome. For well they knew that there was no “assistant” in the whole city who could be as useful to them as this same humble32 little girl from Dingy street.
“Thirteen, Mary Jane! I’m thirteen! Come see. Cucumbers!” cried Bobby Saunders, dragging her forward so eagerly that the soap-box strap slipped up across her throat and choked her. But she quickly released herself now from her burden, certain that in the midst of so many friends no harm could befall her darling; and once freed from this incubus33, she outstripped34 Bobby in reaching the long rows of well-prepared garden plots, wherein as yet was never a sign of any growing thing.
But oh! how soft and rich and brown the earth did look! How sweet the fragrance35 of it in Mary Jane’s nature-loving nostrils36! And how, for once, she longed to be a boy! As straight-limbed, as strong, as unhindered at her toil26, as any of these happy little lads who clustered about, each interrupting his neighbor in his eagerness for her sympathy and interest.
“Fifty-one, Mary Jane!” cried Joe Stebbins, pointing proudly to the numbered stick at the foot of his plot. “Cabbages—cabbages! The gardener’s bringing a box of plants this minute. I’ll give you one to bile when they get growed. Like that?”
“But I’m limas, Mary Jane. I’m Seven. Away over here. I’ve sowed ’em and to-morrer I’ll hoe ’em, I guess.”
“And I guess I wouldn’t till they sprout,” laughed she hopping38 along, at perilous39 speed, to inspect number seven.
“Don’t go so fast, Mary Jane! I can’t keep up with you. See. I’m right up front—number Three. I’m tomatuses, I am. Like ’em?” demanded Ned Smith, a seven-year-old farmer.
“I’m potatoes. They’re the best for your money,” observed Jimmy O’Brien. “We’ll roast some in the ashes, bime-by. Does the baby like ’tatoes?”
“Don’t he? You just ought to see him eat them—when we have them,” she added, cautiously.
“Oh! you’ll have ’em, plenty. When I dig my crop. Why, I s’pose there’ll be enough in my ‘farm’ to keep your folks and mine all winter; and I might have some to sell on the street,” observed Jimmy, casting a speculative40 glance upon the diminutive41 plot of ground over which he was now master.
“Might you; ain’t that splendid!” commented Mary Jane, delightedly. “Why, if you could give us all our potatoes, mother could easy wash for the rent and the bread and things. My sake! I ’most forgot the baby. Where’s he at? Can you see him?”
“He’s right in the middle of the sand-heap and the teacher has give him a little shovel42. Say, what you bring him for? this ain’t no day-nursery, this ain’t. It’s a playground farm and one-year-olds don’t belong.”
“Maybe they don’t, but the baby belongs. That is if I do,” said the sister stoutly43; “maybe you’ll say next I don’t.”
“No, I shan’t say that. Why, what could we do without you? And say, Mary Jane.”
“Well, say it quick. The girls are calling me to swing on the Maypole. ’Cause that’s one thing I can do without my crutches.”
“Well, in a minute. But, say. Sometimes I used to let you hoe in my garden, last summer. Remember?”
“Course. I helped you a lot.”
“Don’t know about that. But you might this year. That is, maybe. If we went partners, you see; and if the teacher didn’t get on to it; and if there was a medal give and you let me have it, ’cause I’m the one has the farm, course. What you say?”
“I say we couldn’t do such a thing without the teacher knowing and I wouldn’t if we could. And you’ll never get a medal, you’re too lazy. But you’re real gen’rous, too, and I’ll be so glad to help. Oh! I love it! I just feel’s if I could put my face right down on that crumbly ground and go to sleep. It’s so dear.”
“Huh! If you did I s’pose you’d get earwigs in your ears and—and angleworms, and—things. Maybe snakes. But I’ll let you,” concluded Jimmy, graciously.
Then they turned around and there was—what seemed to the beholders, a veritable small angel!
Mary Jane was so startled she dropped her crutches and, for an instant, quite forgot all about the baby. The apparition44 was clothed in white, so soft and fine and transparent45 that it seemed to enwrap her as a cloud; and above the cloud rose a face so lovely and so winning that it made Mary Jane’s heart almost stand still in ecstasy46.
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1
crutches
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| n.拐杖, 支柱 v.支撑 | |
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2
beatific
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| adj.快乐的，有福的 | |
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phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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5
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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6
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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9
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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13
imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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incubus
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| n.负担；恶梦 | |
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outstripped
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| v.做得比…更好，（在赛跑等中）超过( outstrip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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36
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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38
hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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40
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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41
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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42
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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43
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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44
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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45
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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46
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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