But Tom was not the only juvenile member of the family who was in need
of reformation. Mary, little Mary, not far beyond twelve years of age,
demanded money to replenish her own wardrobe.
"Mary," said her father, "we're poor; we can't afford fancy fixin's.
This ain't very cold weather. You've good enough clothes on you to
keep you warm: what d'you want o' somethin' else?"
"What do I want o' somethin' else?" echoed the child, going to the door
and tossing an imitation doll into the ash-heap, "why, I want better
clothes, so't the fellers about town'll pay some 'tention to me, like
they do to sister Jane."
The slight, bent form of the father straightened up, as he asked,
quickly,--
"Does the fellers around town pay attention to your sister Jane?"
"Why, of course they do," said little Mary, entirely unable to
translate the gaze which her father bent upon her. "Jane never gets
through her work at the hotel before there's a lot o' fellers hangin'
round the door an' wantin' to see her, an' takin' her out to get
ice-cream or sody-water, or to go to the circus if there's one in town,
or to go to the dramatic representation,--that's what they call it on
the bills,--if there happens to be one in the village that night."
"Wife," said Sam, turning to his helpmate, "what wages does Jane get?"
"Six dollars a month," said the wife.
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