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OR,Hnbfo a 3iake Bnns~inc+CHARTER IRS. Millroy stood at the wash-tub,her arms up to the elbows in suds,/ the perspiration streaming down her, p face, and her temper none of thesweetest. She had been on her feet since day-break of the long June morning, had drankher cup of muddy coffee, and had eaten herbit of brown bread and butter at intervals asshe rubbed, and now at half past eleveno'clock was barely ready to put her clothes on3
4 CHEW ALLEY; OR,the lines, and was, as she expressed herself,"as tired as a dog.". The apartment in which the washing wasgoing on was about twelve feet square. Itserved the quadruple purpose of kitchen, bed-room, parlor and wash-room, and as not onlyMrs. Millroy, but Mrs. Millroy's husband andtheir four children, Phebe and Mary, Jimmyand John, were the occupants, it may be sup-posed that it presented a somewhat confusedappearance, especially when there was washinggoing on, which was generally four days outof the seven. For Mrs. Millroy supplementedher husband's efforts, by taking in washing asshe had opportunity; and together, they man-aged to fill the hungry mouths, and clothe theactive limbs of their family. It was a Juneday, and warm for that, and as the hands ofthe clock crept on toward the hour of noon,Mrs. Millroy's nervousness and fretfulness in-creased.
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 5Phebe, the eldest girl, kept home fromschool to wait on her mother, and see to thedinner, was doing her best; but she was warmand fretful too, and everything seemed to gowrong. The potatoes baked too fast, and thesour milk, saleratus-streaked biscuit, baked tooslowly; drops of water dripped over the edgeof the wash-boiler into the pan where the saltpork was frying, and sizzled and spattered upinto Phebe's face, and filled the room withsmoke. Altogether, there was enough to putany but the most even-tempered and patientperson in bad humor."Do get your father's dinner ready, any-way," said Mrs. Millroy, sharply, " and take itto him in the tin pail, just on the stroke oftwelve, Phebe, and I'll see that the childrenhave theirs. Your father hates the waiting ,and not to blame, either, poor man! and hesawing and splitting wood all the blessedday "
6 CHEW ALLEY; OR,Phebe tried to make haste., She broughtthe tin pail and put up her father's dinner,awkwardly enough, to be sure, but as well asshe knew how, pork, potatoes and sour milkbiscuit in one grand pile, surmounting thewhole with a wedge of cheese, and then, snatch-ing her old hat from the floor, rushed off, justas the bells began to ring for twelve.Mr. Millroy was sawing wood for JudgeRomney, on .Summer Street, and thitherwardsped Phebe, making short cuts through narrowlanes and dirty alleys, until she came outdirectly in front of the iron gateway that shutin the .grand mansion from the dust of thestreet.To Phebe's eyes, it was a very grand man-sion indeed, and she felt herself trembling allover, as she lifted the huge iron latch, and,stepping on tiptoe into the enchanted precincts,heard the gate swing behind her, and foundherself standing in the midst of such beauty
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 7and fragrance as she had never before imag-ined, even in her dreams.In Chew Alley where she lived, the oldhouses crowded and elbowed each other in amost threatening manner, and neither tree,nor shrub, nor flower brightened the unspeaka-ble dinginess that had settled down upon it,while if an aspiring tuft of grass ever ven-tured to push itself up beside the gutter, itwas immediately trodden under foot. Thus itwas that Phebe Millroy, who had spent thefourteen years of her life surrounded only bythe dreary atmosphere of Chew Alley, nowstanding for the first time in the midst of awealth of bloom and beauty, experienced athrill of delight, not unmixed with awe.Here were borders of roses in all the fresh-ness of their June beauty, and of every shadeof color, from faintest creamy yellow, to deep-est crimson, filling the air with their rich per-fume, and here, at their feet, were crowds of
8 CHEW ALLEY; OR,cheerful little pansies in their vestments of pur-ple and gold. Here were shrubs covered withlong, slender sprays of snow-white blossoms,drooping gracefully to the very ground, andbeds of white lilies hiding shyly among theirrich green leaves, and trellises covered withscarlet and yellow honeysuckles that coquettedwith honey-bees and butterflies. It was agarden full of sweets, and Phebe looked awayfrom one lovely object only to cast her eyesupon another still more fair.Far in from the street stood the elegantstone mansion, with its broad piazzas, its deepbalconies, and its long windows opening uponthe lawn. Ivies clambered over it, vinescaressed it, and a huge oak, centuries old,spread its wide branches over the roof likehands of benediction." What fine, grand folks them must be thatlives in there !" thought Phebe, as she wentshyly up the broad, hard carriage drive, hold-
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 9ing her tin pail straight out before her, inorder that whoever might see her should knowthat she had business, and was no interloper." I'd think father'd be ashamed to work forsuch folks, with his old clothes on and inhis shirt sleeves, too!" she added aloud, asshe came in sight of the large wood-shed, inthe rear of the house, where Mr. Millroy wasemployed, and where he now stood bendingover his saw-horse, with his back towardsher.It was late; at least ten minutes past hisregular dinner hour, and he was a very hungryman, and somewhat impatient withall at theunusual delay, consequently his greeting wasfar from gracious."Why wa'n't you all day getting here!"That was what he said, as he snatched thepail, and sat down on the chopping log. Hehad often spoken much more roughly than thiswhen tired or angered, but somehow it sounded
10 CHEW ALLEY; OR,worse in the midst of all this beauty, than itdid in the dingy room in Chew Alley, andPhebe, glancing over her shoulder, cried underher breath:"Don't, father !Mr. Millroy looked up with as much surpriseas his heavy features were capable of express-ing."I ran every step of the way till I gotinside the gate, and then I had to stop aminute," said Phebe. "Ain't it awful finehere ?"" Humph! " ejaculated Mr. Millroy, smack-ing his lips over a huge mouthful of the salera-tus-streaked biscuit. "What of it ?""Nothin'," answered Phebe, disheartened byso cool a response to her enthusiasm; " onlyI was a-thinkin'." Then she stood and waitedin silence by his side, while he hastily de-voured his dinner. At the last mouthful, hedrew the back of his hand across his lips, and
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 11bade her go to the house and fetch him somewater in the pail.Phebe looked down upon her soiled frock,and a deep blush overspread her brown,freckled face."I ain't fit," she stammered. "I didn'tstop to wash my hands, and the pork fat spat-tered all over my gown "" What do you suppose I care for pork fat ?"said Mr. Millroy. " There ain't nobody therethat'll interfere with you, if you mind yourown business, so be off with you. That's thekitchen door with a green blind on to it, andthe water works is just inside."Phebe drew a long breath, and reluctantlystarted on her errand. The kitchen door wasopen, and she went timidly in, with eyes castdown, and her heart beating so loud and fast,that she was afraid it would be heard all overthe house.A very stout, red-faced woman stood at thesink, paring vegetables.
12 CHEW ALLEY; OR,"Is it Misther Millroy's gurrl you be? "she asked, in a rich brogue, as Phebe's trem-ling feet crossed the threshold."Yes."" And it's weather ye're after wanting' ,forthe father to wash down his dinner wid ?Well, here's a chance, and you can help your-self an' welcome. Is it afeared ye be ?"" No," answered Phebe, ashamed to havesuch an aspersion cast upon her; "only Inever was here before.""Well, I'm only here this day week," saidthe woman, pulling away her pan, and arrang-ing Phebe's pail under the faucet of the aque-duct. "It's a fine place, and they're raalladies and gintlemen as owns it. They paysgood wages to their hilp, an' gives 'em verySunday afternoon out, an' two evening's a week,andPhebe never knew what was to follow, for atthat moment a door opened, and there entered
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 13the kitchen an elderly lady, with a very paleface, and beautiful white curls, partly coveredby a black bonnet and veil." I came to bid you good-bye, Norah," shesaid, holding out her hand, with a smile, thelike of which Phebe thought was never beforeequalled for sweetness."Indade, thin, I'm sorry for that same,Miss, an' I don't know flow we'll get alongwithout ye," said Norah, wiping her wetfingers on a coarse towel, and surveying themwith a doubtful shake of the head. " Surean' they ain't fit!" she continued, an' so ifye'll plaze escuze me, I'll stick to the pratees,which paylin' of 'em always keeps me handslooking' like they was durty. But I wish yegood luck, an' a pleasant journey, Miss, an'the-blessin' o' all the saints to go wid ye."" Thank you, Norah," said the lady. " Ihope you will do well, and find this a happyhome. Where is Margaret ?"
14 CHEW ALLEY; OR,"She's gone to spake wid the mistress,Miss," replied Norah, with the towel at hereyes; concerning' the ""Never mind her errand," interrupted thelady, gently. " Who is this little girl ? " andshe laid her soft, delicate hand on the shockof sandy hair that covered Phebe's head, andhung down over her forehead." She's Mr. Millroy's gurrl, that's sawin' an''splittin' in the yard, Miss, and it's a dhrinkof weather she's after to quinch his thirst,"answered Norah, with true Irish volubility,while Phebe stood blushing and tremblingunder the soft hand."I am glad your father has a child to waiton him," said the lady. "Try and make allthe sunshine for him and your mother thatyou can, my dear, and carry it wherever yougo, to bless others.""And shure that's the way wid yourself,Miss! " cried Norah, impetuously, " and I'm
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 15thinking' ye'll carry so much of it away widye, that there'll be never a bit left behind! ""Never fear, Norah," and the lady smiledagain. " There is enough and to spare, wherethe Lord's true children are." She turned toleave the room, then pausing, drew from herpocket a card which she placed in Phebe'shand. There was a gaily colored picture onone side, and'on the other some verses wereprinted in red letters." You will find there the rules for makingsunshine," said the lady, as Phebe turned itover in her brown fingers, and surveyed itwith shy delight: and with these words, whichwere like a puzzle both to Phebe and Norah,she went away." She's the swatest lady in all Ameriky !"ejaculated Norah, as the door closed behindher, "a raal born lady, too, wid a pleasantword for everybody, and a smile like the sun-risin'; and it's a dollar bill she give me only
16 CHEW ALLEY.yesterday for the small attintions I've paidher, since I come this day week. Hoosh!here's the water all running' to waste, and tihepratees not paled, and meself a standing' stockstill like a doonce Here, take your pail andstart! Misther Millroy might choke to deathwhile ye were delayin'!"Phebe hastily concealed her treasure in thebosom of her gown, and hurried, away, whileNorah rattled her pans vigorously, and grewvery red in the face, as the kitchen dooragain opened, admitting the rotund figure ofMargaret, the cook.
CHAPTER II.J F YOU'LL come out on the door-step,"i Molly, I'll show you something a ladygive me," said Phebe, when the dinnerdishes were washed and put away," and I'll tell you all about where I went, andwhat I saw. You never set your eyes on sucha fine garden and house in all your days."Molly hesitated." Come along," coaxed Phebe. "I've gotto stay and watch the clo'es, and I shouldthink you might stay with me."-" I want to play with the boys out in the17
18 CHEW ALLEY; OR,street. Jimmy's got some marbles and a bigagate, all blue and pink; you can tell me to-night just as well," and Molly tucked her oldtorn hat over her black hair."Well, I wont!" said Phebe, turning redin the face. " If you don't stay with me, I'llnever tell you a word; and I wont ever showyou what she give me neither !""I don't like the back door-step," com-plained Molly. "You can't see nothing,but the old clo'es line, and the clo'es a flop-ping, and I hate to sit and watch 'em."" You like it as well as I do, I guess," re-torted Phebe, " but I suppose I've got it to doas long as I live.""I wont do such things, anyway," saidMolly, with a toss of the head; "you wontsee me taking in washing, and watching theclo'es line.""Perhaps you'll have to," said Phebe." Mother is as good as anybody, and she takesin washing."
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 19Mrs. Millroy had put her tubs down cellar"for the day, and run into a neighbor's room,"to rest her bones," she said, but in reality,to enjoy'the half hour's gossip, in which shetook great delight, and Phebe and Molly werealone in the kitchen." Mother's pretty good," said Molly, inreply to her sister's last remark, but then, Imean to be a lady, and have a carriage and acoachman, and lots of elegant dresses, andsilver dishes to eat off of; and I'm going toballs, like all the fine folks do. You'll see !"" Guess I shall!" said Phebe, ironically." 1 should think it looked like it, when you'realways wanting to play in the street with theboys." It's better there than 'tis in here," saidMolly, flushing. " This is an ugly old place,anyway, and nothing pretty in it. Comealong, Phebe; I'll come out on the doorstep alittle while, and let's see what you've got."
20 CHEW ALLEY; OR,The doorstep overlooked the bit of a yad:where the clothes hung, drying. There wasnothing pretty about it, not .even a tuft ofgrass, to brighten it, and the ground was cov-ered with a brick pavement that was hot andugly when the sun shone down upon it, as itdid on this warm summer afternoon.The girls sat down side by side, and Phebedrew her treasure from the folds of her dress,and held it carefully with the tips of herfingers, just out of reach of Molly's out-stretched hand."This is what she give me," she said."Ain't it a fine picture ? You ain't a-goingto touch it, unless your hands are clean. Thereading' is all on the other side."" I don't care about the reading, " said Molly,"but that picture is real pretty. My what ahandsome color that girl's gown is! I wish'tI had one like it, don't you, Phe ? "" Yes. It's just the color of the sky, when
E SUNSHINE. 21. 't any clouds, you know. But I'll tell. .bwhat she said, Molly. She said as thereading' was rules for making sunshine. Idon' know what she meant, but I want to findout. Let's read it, will ye ?"Read away, if you want to," respondedMolly, rudely. " I ain't hiiderin' you."" But I don't know the long words," saidPhebe. " If I'd a chance to get my learning ,as you have, I'd read straight off, withoutspelling. "" That's easy enough," said Molly, noddingat the card; " there ain't more'n two or threelong words in the whole lot."" Then read it," urged Phebe. " There, ifyou will, you may take it in your own hand."" I thought you'd come to it," said Molly,with an exasperating grimace. "You're aw-ful good when you want to get a thing doneWhy don't you tell what you saw ? You saidyou would, if I'd come out here, and I don'tfeel like reading' now."
22 CHEW ALLEY; OR," It was Judge Romnev's where I went tocarry father's dinner," said Phebe, ruefullysurveying her card, "and -there's a gardenchock full of roses, and there's some kind ofa baby without any gown on, right in themiddle of it, that pours water out of a cup ora dipper, and there's water comes out of hismouth, too, that goes up into the air ever sohigh, and sparkles when it comes down."" I guess so!" exclaimed Molly, unbeliev-ingly. " You don't make me believe that! "" I don't care whether you do or not," saidPhebe; "it's true, for I saw it with my owneyes. And there's a great stone house withanother house built a-top of it, and lots ofroses growing' all round. You never see any-thing so handsome in all your life. But thelady that give me my card was the han'somestof anything!"" Did she have on a silk gown ?" askedMolly, betraying more interest than she hadhitherto done.
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 23"I don't know what kind of a gown shehad on, only it was black, and she had a blackbonnit, and her hair was all in pretty littlewhite curls, and--"" Poh!" she was nothing' but an oldwoman " interrupted Molly, scornfully." White hair! I sh'd think that was awfulhandsome! '"It was," said Phebe, stoutly; " and shehad blue eyes, and white cheeks, and whenshe smiled, you'd think she was a nangle;and she spoke just as pleasant as if I'd beenall dressed up, and Norah said how she wasthe sweetest lady in Ameriky."Molly jumped up, yawning."I'm going to play with the boys now,"she said. " 'f I couldn't tell a better story 'nthat I wouldn't tell any.""" An't -you going' to read my card ? Youa'n't fair, Molly Millroy! You 'most saidyou'd read it, after I told you where I went."
24 CHEW ALLEY; OR," Oh, I never! and I a'n't goin' to, anyway.It ain't anything I want to know. It's allgammon about the sunshine;" and away ranMolly, singing at the top of her voice.Phebe sat disconsolate, leaning forward andresting her chin in the palm of one hand,with her eyes fastened hopelessly on the redletters that she was so anxious to learn themeaning of.She felt ashamed of her ignorance, and of" ^tr fourteen years. There were unty ofgirls no older than herself in the High School,studying books with long hard names; sheknew one or two of them by sight, and theirparents were poor laboring people like her ownfather and mother, but they wouldn't keeptheir children at home to do the houseworkand watch the clothes on the line. Phebethought it all over until she was in a rebel-lious mood, and disposed to look upon herselfas a much abused person, and so when her
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 25mother came in from her half hour's visit andrest, and stepped into the yard to see if theclothes were sufficiently dried for folding,Phebe took the opportunity to express herdissatisfaction."I should think you might let me go toschool," she began in a very fretful voice." It's a shame that Molly has all the chancesand I don't have any."" I'd be glad to send you to school, if it wasso I could," Mrs. Millroy answered, castin l'look of surprise at Phebe's flushed and lower-ing countenance, "but I never thought youcared much about it anyway, and somebody'sgot to stay at home and help me. It's a goodthing for girls and boys to get their learning,though it's precious little ever I had.""You know how to read," rejoined Phebe," and I don't, only just the easiest little words;but I want to learn, and I'm going to ""You'll have to learn of one of the chil-
26 CHEW ALLEY; OR,dren, then," said Mrs. Millroy, impatiently,"for as to being spared to go to school, youcan't, and it's no use to talk about it.""Molly can stay at home instead of me.She's big enough to do the work,"-and Phebe'strembling voice now betrayed how very muchin earnest she was in this matter. " She don'tlike to study lessons, and she hates to read.""She hates to chore round the house, too,"said Mrs. Millroy. " She'd be more plagueprofit, .and I could do every stroke ofwork myself easier'n I could look after her,and see that she did it.""I don't care!" exclaimed Phebe, almostcrying, "it ain't fair to make me do every-thing and let her do as she's a mind to."" Well, what has set you out? " said Mrs.Millroy, sharply. " What's put you into sucha taking to learn to read, all of a sudden, Ishould like to know ? "Phebe sat for some minutes without replying
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 27to this question. She felt reluctant to openall her heart to her mother lest she shouldmeet with a repulse similar to that with whichMolly had rewarded her confidence. But asMrs. Millroy returned to the kitchen andbegan to sprinkle and fold the clothes, hum-ming a song meanwhile, in apparent forgetful-ness or unmindfulness of what had just beensaid, Phebe presently followed her in, andthrowing herself down upon a chair near thewindow, muttered some unintelligible words."If you're talking to me, child," interruptedMrs. Millroy, pausing in her singing, " you'dbetter speak so's I can hear, and don't besulky, either."" I ain't sulky," said Phebe, drumming onthe window-sill. Then she was silent again,and- her mother resumed her song." A lady gi' me a card with a picture on it,and reading," burst forth Phebe, when shecould endure her own reflections no longer,4
28 CHEW ALLEY; OR,and I want to find out what the reading is,and Molly is ugly, and won't read it to me,and I can't make out the long words, and Isay it is a shame!" As she spoke, tearsbegan to fall fast and thick, and her usuallycheerful face looked so utterly woe-begone,that Mrs. Millroy, who was not by any meansa hard-hearted mother, essayed some wordsof. comfort."Don't fret over it, Phebe, child. You'rebetter off than a good many girls I know of,and you hadn't ought to grumble, just becauseyou can't have everything your own way."" I don't have anything my own way,"sobbed Phebe."Yes you do too; and you're fretting your-self all for nothing. Wait till I finish foldingthe clo'es, and then I'll see if I can make outthe piece you want to have read so bad. Iwish ladies wouldn't interfere with my chil-dren, and make 'em uneasy," she added, underher breath.
SHOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 29Phebe's face began to brighten; she dashedaway her tears, and laying her precious cardupon her chair, she made haste to help alongthe work that lay between her and the accom-plishment of her desire." It was a lady there to Judge Romney's,"she said, won by her mother's kindness; avery pretty lady, that was just going away.I wish you'd 'a seen her.""They're proud folks; I don't want to haveanything to do with 'em," answered Mrs. Mill-roy. ."That lady wa'n't proud," said Phebe;" she was going to shake hands with Norah,and Norah wouldn't, 'cause she was peelingpotatoes.""Oh, well, you can't tell me anythingabout such folks that I don't know already,"said Mrs. Millroy. "They're. all born 'risto-crats, every one of 'em, and think we poorfolks were made to do their drudgery, and
30 CHEW ALLEY; OR,wait on 'em. I'll tell you what 'tis, child,you'd better not look up to rich folks for apattern. It ain't any use to stretch yourselfafter what you can't never have; I foundthat out long an' long ago.""That lady was good," persisted Phebe,earnestly; " and I wish 't I was just like. her.She spoke so soft and pleasant, and looked sopretty when she smiled! "" I don't know what should hinder hersmiling and looking pretty," said Mrs. Mill-roy, casting a glance at her own sallow,wrinkled face in the bit of looking glass thathung on a nail over the table; "I don't sup-pose she ever had to lift a finger unless shewanted to, and it's been all fair weather withher from her cradle. Let her have to dig as1 do week in and week out, and sweat overthe washtub, and she wouldn't look so smilingand pretty I'll warrant you "" Iguess she never's had to work very
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 31hard," said Phebe, cause her hands are aswhite and soft as a baby's, but she had onblack clo'es, and her face looked kind o' sorryall the time."" I thought you said she was smiling," in-terposed Miss Millroy." She was; but she looked sorry behindthat, someway. I guess some of her folkshave died, and that's what made her. There!now will you read it, mother ?The last garment was folded and. laidsmoothly in the clothes basket, and a- cleantowel spread over it, and Phebe's face wasbright with anticipation.. Yes," said Mrs. Millroy, picking up thecard, and dropping upon the chair. "I'll seewhat I can do, though I'm no scholar."
COIAPTER II.GUESS I can make out these words;they look easy enough," said Mrs.Millroy, carefully examining the card,while Phebe, almost breathless, leanedover the back of her chair; "anyway I'll dothe best I can, as I said afore, and don't youget out of patience, child.""No, I won't," said Phebe; "but what'sthat first word ?""I'm just going to begin if you'll keepstill," answered Mrs. Millroy; and then shespelled out slowly: 'Rejoice evermore.' That'sthe first verse, Phebe. I guess the rest won't32
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 33be quite so hard. It sounds and looks to meas if 'twas written out o' the Bible.""What comes next ?" queried eager Phebe."Do gi' me a chance to breathe, child," re-turned her mother,. wiping the perspirationfrom her face. " You're always in such a hur-ry and flurry when you get roused up! Bekindly affectioned one to another with brotherlylove, in honor preferring one another.' Yes,this is copied out o' the Bible, sure, and thislast one is, too, unless I'm mistaken. Loveas brethren, be pitiful, be courteous.' There, Ideclare, I'm surprised at myself! I don'tbelieve I've read. that much afore in a year."" I should like to know what she meant,"said Phebe, thoughtfully." Who ? Meant about what ? " asked Mrs.Millroy."The lady that give it to me- what shemeant. She said it was the rules for makingsunshine that I'd find on my card, but I wish
34 CHEW ALLEY; OR,she'd 'a told me more about it. Do you know,mother ? "" Well, I can't say as I do, not exactly.The sunshine is made already, and I wasalways brought up to think 'twas made by theLord, but folks gets a good many new-fash-ioned notions into their heads now-a-days, andI can't say but what they've found out how tomake sunshine on their own hook. If theyhave, and this is the rule for't, the best thingyou can do is just to step into Ph'leny Brooks'sroom and read it off to her. Poor creature' !Mrs. Rogers she was just a-telling me thatPh'leny is in an awful stew on account of herroom bein' on the side o' the house where itnever gets the sun from morning till night,which makes it damp and dismal, of course.But then she might 'a staid where she wasafore; she'd a decent place there to Joan'Batchelder's, only she was uneasy on accounto' the saloon down below. For my part, Ibelieve it's best to let well enough alone."
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 35"I wish you'd read it over once more,mother," said Phebe, coaxingly. " 1 don'tbelieve I can make it all out, and I'd beashamed to miss on the words 'f I tried toread it to anybody."" That's on account of your being so proudand high-strung," said Mrs. Millroy. " I'vespent time enough on it already, and now I'vegot to go to work and make the starch. Youneedn't be afraid of Ph'leny Brooks; shewouldn't hurt a flea, and besides, she's gotsome learning so if you get stuck, she'll helpyou out."Philena, or as she was familiarly known inthe neighborhood, Ph'leny Brooks, had left herold lodgings across the street a few days back,and had taken possession of the only vacantroom in the old house which was occupied bythe Millroys and a half dozen or more familiesbeside.Phebe knew her very well by sight, but for.
36 CHEW ALLEY; OR,various reasons had been shy of making heracquaintance. She stood now for severalminutes revolving the matter in her mind, andfinally decided to make a bold push, and visitPh'leny in her room, as her mother had sug-gested, perhaps urged to the decision ratherby a desire to get than to give. However thatmight be, as soon as her mind was made up,she waited no longer, but running down thenarrow passage that led straight through thehouse, and which was dark even on this brightJune afternoon, she knocked at Ph'leny'sdor.No one came to open it, but after a shortdelay, during which there was a slight bustlewithin, as of something being hastily slippedout of sight, a cracked and quavering voiceresponded, " Come in."Usually fearless and bold in all her actions,Phebe was surprised to find that her fingerstrembled as she lifted the latch, and when she
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 37had crossed the threshold, she was for a mo-ment at a loss what to say. She stood lookingat Ph'leny Brooks, and Ph'leny Brooks stoodwith a flat iron in her hand, looking at her,until Phebe's brown face grew scarlet, and inher confusion, she took a step backward to thedoor. -Then Ph'leny opened her lips anduttered an ungracious," Well ? ""I've got a card with rules on it," stam-mered- Phebe; "it's rules for* making sun-shine, and mother said how you hadn't got anyin your room, and wanted some; and shethought maybe you could make it out, and soI fetched it in, and here it is."Ph'leny took the card, and set her flat-irondown upon the stove, and with her sharp eyesstill on Phebe, asked," Who is your mother ?'" Mrs. Millroy ; we live in the back room."" Hm! ah, yes, those back rooms are fit for
38 CHEW ALLEY; OR,human beings to live in this isn't;" andPh'leny looked severely around the apartmentwhich was lighted by two. small windows."No, it isn't fit for a human being," she con-tinued, after a pause; " and your motherspoke the truth, when she said there was nosunshine in it. What is your name ?.""Phebe Millroy."" Irish ?""No.""Scotch ? "" No."""English ?"" No."" You ain't Yankees ? "" I guess so.," said Phebe, uneasily." Well, I guess you ain't," returned Ph'leny,sitting down, and motioning to a chair by herside. "At least, not full-blooded Yankees,"she added, presently. " Are you RomanCatholics ?"
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 39"No," answered Phebe."I'm glad of that. It's in your favor.Presbyterians, maybe ?"" I don't know what they be.""You ought to. Do you go to meeting ? "Phebe shook her head."I thought it as likely as riot. Such aplace as Chew Alley I never lived in before,never. Talk about heathen! If I ain't setdown in their very lap, as 'twere, I am .mis-taken. Why don't you go to meeting, child ?"" I don' know," answered Phebe."Of course you don't, how should you?the blame belongs to your father and mother,for it's "their business to send you. Well,well, what's this -card ? Read it, willyou? "" I don't believe I can," said Phebe." Don't you know how to read ? ""Not much, only short words.""' How old are you? "
40 CHEW ALLEY; OR,"I'm fourteen."" Fourteen years old and not able to read.Is it because you a'n't bright, or because "" I can't go to school," interrupted Phebe,forgetting her fear of this singular woman, inthe shame and indignation which had burnedwithin* her breast all that afternoon. Cr haveto stay at home and do the work, and it ain'tmy fault. Molly goes every day, and so doesthe boys, but mother won't let me. If you'llgi' me my card I'll go," she added, holdingout her hand to take it.But Ph'leny Brooks had no mind to give itup. She covered it with her apron, and satlooking at the flushed face down which angrytears were now flowing, as if she had gottenhold of some curiosity which she wished toexamine with great care." Don't.be in a hurry,'' she said, as Phebemade a second attempt- to regain her property." 'm not going to hurt you, child, and per-
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 41haps-mind I only say perhaps, I may find away to help you, but I want you to calm downthe first thing you do. There! wipe youreyes, and hold your head up, and listen toreason. Suppose I read this card ?""I wish you would," said Phebe, dashingaway the tears, as she gathered a ray of hopefrom Ph'leny Brooks' words."Don't you know what there is on it ? "" Mother read it over once, but I can't re-member it. There's something about love,and it says kindly affectioned, and that's all Iknow."Ph'leny took a pair of spectacles from herpocket and carefully adjusted tlem on hernose. Then she read the Scripture texts withsuch fluency that Phebe was lost in admira-tion."You didn't have to spell a single word,did you?" she exclaimed. " What a finescholar you be "
42. CHEW ALLEY; OR,Ph'leny was not insensible to praise. Shelooked complacently at Phebe, and evenpatted her on the shoulder." In my day I suppose I was quite a scholar.I was fond of my book, and it was a prettybright girl or boy that ever got above me inthe reading and spelling class, and there wasno end to the medals I had. If my fatherhad lived I should have staid at school longerthan I did, and very like been a rich womannow instead of what I am. I always thoughtI'd like to make a teacher, but I was disap-pointed in that as I have been in everythingI've undertaken to do. This is a disappointingworld!" and Ph'leny Brooks gave a longgroan." These verses are taken from the Bible,"she began again, presently. " I suppose youknow what the Bible is, or don't you ? "" Mother said how they were Bible words,"Phebe replied, evasively.
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 43" Well, she was right, and I'm glad to hearthat she knew that much. I suppose you'vegot one at your house ? "" I don't know," stammered Phebe.Ph'leny rolled up her eyes, and looked ex-ceedingly shocked, as indeed she well might." Heathen heathen " she ejaculated un-der her breath. Then aloud," You ought tofind out, the first thing you do. Why, child,you'd better all go without your dinner everyday, than not have the Scriptures-that isthe Bible-in your house."" Yes," said Phebe, meekly, for she knewnot what other reply to make, and then shesaid, with much inward trembling, I wishyou'd tell me what there is in the verses.""Why, they're plain enough," Ph'leny re-sponded; " plain enough to understand, butawful hard to live by."" Will they make sunshine ?" persistedPhebe.
44 CHEW ALLEY; OR," Oh, sunshine ? well, as to that, if theywere followed up they'd make one kind, but itisn't the kind that your mother meant whenshe sent you in here to me."" Well, I wish 't I knew what kind it doesmean," said Phebe. " The lady told me tomake sunshine for father and mother andthe neighbors, and she said how the rulewas on the back o' the card, and I can'tmake it out."" She knew what she was talking about "remarked Phileny, " but then talking is easierthan doing in my opinion, and I dare say,if the truth was known, your lady, whoevershe was, is no better than a good many otherfolks."" Yes, she is!" cried Phebe, losing the lastatom of fear and embarrassment, in her eager-ness to defend her friend. " You'd say soyourself if you see her; she looks it in herface."
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 45* *" Hm, ah !" and Phileny opened the damp-ers of her stove, and seized her flat-iron withsudden energy, " I'm glad you know so muchmore than your elders, and can give youropinion; but let me tell you the looks of a facedon't amount to much. It.isn't fair. to judgeman or woman by that, and I tell you again,child, it's easy enough to talk smooth andgood. I'd like to see that lady put into myshoes, though, for a year or two, and thenhear what she would have to say about mak-ing sunshine. I reckon she would find it notquite so easy. Where are you going ? "" Home," said Phebe, indignantly."You'd better not," advised Ph'leny Brooks."You won't gain anything by it. I alwaysspeak my mind, anduI mean to, whether folksget offended or not. But you just sit downagain, child, and be easy, while I press outthis seam, and then I'll tell you about yourverses."
46 CHEW ALLEY; OR,Vexed as Phebe was, this promise detainedher. But instead of re-seating herself, shewent to one of the windows, and stood leaningagainst the sash."Nice view, isn't it ?" said Ph'leny, with adiscordant laugh."I didn't mind," answered Phebe, now ob-serving that the two windows opened upon theblank wall of the next house, and that therewas not a foot's space between; "but Idon'tsee anything nice about it."" Not much chance for the Lord's sun toshine in here, hey ? Well, now I'll tell you,the kind that your lady meant wasn't whatgets in from outside,-but what gets in frominside. Do you understand that ?""No," said Phebe, wrinkling her forehead,"I don't."" Didn't suppose you would," said Ph'leny,as she put her flat-iron on the hearth to cool,and pulled a chair up to the window; " but
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 47I'll explain it as well ag I can. Here are yourverses: Rejoice evermore.' Be kindly affec-tioned one- to another with brotherly love, inhonor preferring one another.' 'Love asbrethren, be pitiful, be courte-ous.' Now ifyou can rejoice all the time, that is be gladand happy, and if you can be kind and affec-tionate, and try to do for other folks, insteadof for yourself, and love everybody, and bepolite and friendly, you'll make sunshinewherever you are; but as I said before, it isawful hard to do it."" Can you ?" asked Phebe." Me ? No. It is more than my match."" Then I can't.""That doesn't follow, child. You needn'tmeasure yourself by me. You're young-I'm fifty-eight years old, and set in my ways;besides, I'm one by myself."" I'd like to try, 'cause she wants me to,"said Phebe; "but I can't love everybody.
48 CHEW ALLEY; OR,There's folks I hate, and I wouldn't give 'ema crust, if they was starving! There's KitGarley, he stoned my cat, and Min. Simms,she calls me names. I hate 'em both!""I know just how you feel," said Ph'leny,"but nobody can make sunshine, if they hateinside. It's out of the question."Phebe stood looking out on the bare, blankwall, thinking. And Ph'leny Brooks wasthinking, too; so for some minutes neitherspoke." Do you do for other folks, instead ofyourself?" asked Phebe, suddenly turningupon her companion."I have, in my day," said Ph'leny; "thatis, fqr some folks, though I got nothing for mypains; but I told you not to measure yourselfby me I'm no pattern."" Well, do you do the other thing ?" per-sisted Phebe; "the rejoice part, I mean."Ph'leny looked around her dark little room,
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 49and Phebe followed the direction of her eyes.They fell upon a few pieces of furniture,ricketty tables, chairs in various stages of*decay, an old chest of drawers, and a cookingstove, all tidily arranged and carefully dusted,to be sure, but .otherwise presenting anythingbut an attractive appearance."What have I got to rejoice over?" saidPh'leny. " I'm next door to the Poor House;it's little I can do at my trade, though I'm agood tailoress for boys, if I do say it. I sup-pose I might find work to keep me busy dayand night, if I had a mind to sew up the ragsof all the little tatterdemalions in Chew Alley;but that would bring me neither bread norbutter; and folks that want to pay for workwouldn't think of looking for a tailoress downin this place. So you see, I've only got threeor four customers that give me anything to do;they are people I knew years on years ago, andthey go to the same meeting, so they don't
50 .CHEW ALLEY; OR,have a chance to forget me, if they wanted toever so much, for I'm in my seat punctually,every Sunday, rain or shine. Then I've norelatives left," proceeded Ph'leny, "not one.It's ten years since my last brother died, and Idon't know as I've got even a second cousin,on the face of the earth. It is singular howsome families die out! Now you can see foryourself, child, that I haven't anything torejoice over. If I should be taken sick, thecity would have to take care of me, and thereisn't that person living that would shed a tearover my grave. What do you think aboutit? "" I don' know," answered Phebe. " Be youpoorer'n my mother ?"" I suppose we are all about alike in thishouse, as far as money goes," said Ph'leny." We all have to work what we can, and getbut little for our pains. I suppose yourmother would call me worse off than herself,though."
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 51"Why ? " asked Phebe. " She did call youa poor creature but you have got some booksand we ha'n't, and your room is better 'n oursall but the windows. I don' know what shemeant.""I do, in all reason. She's got a husbandand children, and I haven't any. -But I'd lether or you or anybody else know that if there'sone thing in this world I do rejoice over it isjust that!" and Ph'leny brought her handsemphatically together, as if to clinch her as-sertion. " If I'd had a man round my houseto torment me, and three or four childrenforever underfoot, teasing for this, that, andthe other, I should have been worried into mygrave long enough ago, but I suppose thereare those that like just such torments, yourmother, for example.""Yes," said Phebe, " she likes father, andwhen we behave she likes us children; whenwe don't we have to catch it!"
52 CHEW ALLEY; OR,"Do you want to learn to read ?" askedPh'leny, abruptly." I wish 't I could," responded Phebe; " butit ain't any use, I can't go to school."" You can learn at home, if you've a mind;there's nothing to hinder," said Ph'leny."I'd like to know how," said Phebe, eag-erly. " There's nobody to tell me the words,nor hear me say my lessons. Molly might,if she would, but she won't. She never wantsto do as anybody wants to have her."" What do you say to me for a teacher ? "asked Ph'leny Brooks." You!" ejaculated Phebe. "You're onlyfunnin'."Do I look as though I was funning ?"returned Ph'leny, severely."No, you don't, but -"" Then why don't you answer a civil ques-tion ? What do you say to me for a teach-er ?"
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 53"I sh'd like it, if you'd learn me how toread as fine as you can." Phebe's eyes fairlydanced at the bare idea."Well, I will. I believe you would appre-ciate it, and behave yourself, so I wouldn't besorry I undertook it; all is, if I find I've madea mistake I shall turn you off and there willbe the end of it. You may come in to-mor'row afternoon and I'll give you your firstlesson. Can't you say, thank you? ""Thank ye," stammered Phebe, turningvery red." I knew you had it in your heart," saidPh'leny, with less acerbity in her voice thanthere had been hitherto; "but you oughtalways to say it, when anybody does you afavor. If you remember that, we'll call ityour first lesson."
CHAAPTER IV.R. MILLROY came home late, buthe had done a good day's work,/ and the money was in his pocket;P^ "consequently he entered the house,whistling.Now Mr. Millroy's whistle was a signalwhich his family always listened anxiouslyfor. It told them that he was in an amiablemood before they saw his face, and when liewas good-tempered, which, I regret to say, wasfrequently not the case, it was much morecomfortable for all concerned than when iecame surly or sullen.54
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 55"Father's whistling !" cried Phebe, andhastily dropping the bread plate upon thetable, she ran and met him at the door." Supper's waiting, I hope," he said, lookingpast her into the room. " I am as hungry as.a bear."" It's all- ready," responded his wife, andshe took a bit of meat from the pan where ithad fried and sizzled for at least half an hour,and laid it on his plate side by side with animmense pickled cucumber. "Phebe, call thechildren.""Yes," said Phebe; then to her father," Who was that lady to Judge Romney's ? I-guess she went off in a carriage this after-noon. I see her when I went to. get thewater.""How should I know, child? I've beenthere to work, not to get acquainted with thegrandees. It's a good place to work at, too;plenty of room, and prompt pay, which iswhat suits me to a T."
56 CHEW ALLEY; OR,"Didn't you see anybody go away in acarriage? " persisted Phebe, still lingering,while her father flung his hat up on the bed,and sat down at the supper-table. "A ladyall dressed in black clo'es, and real pretty ?"" There was somebody went off in the car-riage, now I think of't; but who it was, orwhere they went, is more'n I know.""Why don't you do as I told you, PhebeMillroy, and not stand dallying there ?" ex-claimed her mother, angrily. "Them chil-d'en run loose every Wednesday and Saturdayafternoon, and there's no end to the wicked-ness they pick up! ""They've got to take their chance," saidMr. Millroy, as Phebe darted away. " If wewas rich, Peggy, like the Judge, we couldfetch 'em up delicate, and not let the windblow on 'em.""Yes, if we was rich," sighed poor, wearyMrs. Millroy, glancing around her disordered
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 57room, where each particular article seemed tobe shoving its neighbor, "but rich we a'n't,Peter, and rich we never shall be. It justabout upset Phebe going up to the Judge's thismorning, and seeing all the fine things,especially that lady, whoever she was, thatgive her a card with a picture' and -verses on it.It's set her all in a pucker to go to school, andnothing to do but I must set myself to reading'the verses to her, which I did. Yes, Peter, ifwe was rich, like the Judge, our childrenshould have a better' chance."" Money is a good thing to have," respondedMr. Millroy, as he passed his cup already forthe third time; "but it won't buy everything,Peggy, as I'd a chance to see to-day. I guessthe Judge would give half he's got, if. notmore, to have healthy children, like our youngones.""What's the matter with his children ?"inquired Mrs. Millroy; and just at that mo-
.8 CHEW ALLEY; OR,meant, in rushed her own brood, laughing,screaming, pushing, kicking, like three wildanimals, and followed slowly and silently byPhebe. It was some minutes before they werereduced to anything like order; but whentheir mouths were filled, their mother repeatedher question, and Mr. Millroy answered,"The Judge's son is what folks call, out o'politeness,. weak-minded, though. if 'twas apoor man's son, he'd be called a fool. Halfthe forenoon, a man that takes care of him,had him out in a curious-contrived carriage,that he trundled up an' down the walks, andthe poor. creature' just set in it, with his headhanging down one side, a-picking flowers topieces. I tell you what, children, you'd oughtto be thankful that you a'n't fools, nor yetcripples; that poor fellow is both, and he's theonly son the Judge has got in the world."Mrs. Millroy said, dear me! and lookedfrom one to another of her freckled, rosy
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 59cheeked boys and girls. "I'd rather workmy fingers to the bones," she added, "yes,and live in Chew Alley all my life, than havesuch a child as that to fret over. Is he theonly one they've got, Peter ? ""No, there's a young gal about as big asPhebe. She's as pretty as a posy. I see herout a-ridin' on a white pony, witl a longfeather in her cap, and her hair a flyin', butwouldd take more'n, that to make up for theother poor soul. No, Peggy, money won'tbuy everything," and Mr. Millroy, having re-peated this reflection, pushed back his chair,and went and sat down on the doorstep tosmoke his pipe."I'd have a pony if I was rich," saidJohn; " a black one with a white spot on hisforehead. They've got just the one I wantthere 't the stable where Mike Prescott works.His name is Fire Fly."" I won't have you round the stable, John,"
60 CHEW ALLEY; OR,said his mother; " don't you go a-near it, noryou, neither, Jimmy, unless you want a goodsound whipping.'" Why not? can't we ?" whined Jimmy." You won't let us do nothing' we want to! ""You have your own way full more'n isgood for you," returned Mrs. Millroy. "I'mworried my life out when you a'n't in schoolfor fear something 'll happen to one of you,and I won't have you round the stables at anyrate, so there's the end of it, and I won't haveany whining about it, neither."The boys growled, and withdrew to thewindow, where, leaning perilously out, theyamused themselves by making various uncouthsounds, and performing sundry antics to at-tract the notice of those children who werestill playing and shouting in the alley.Mrs. Millroy stepped into a neighbors toborrow a cup of molasses, and Phebe washedthe dishes, while Molly, absolutely declining*q'.
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 61to assist, sat drumming on the table, andsinging at the top of her voice."Do stop your noise!" Phebe cried, atlength, quite out of patience, " or I'll speakto father."" Ho!" returned Molly, pausing a moment," it's a free country, and I'll sing as loud asI've a min' to, for all you!"" You may be as ugly as you've a min' to,too," said Phebe, "it's nothing to me: but Ishould think you'd be ashamed."" Children, none of your quarreling !" calledMr. Millroy, from the doorstep. "Molly, quitthat singing. Can't you let anybody have aminute's peace ?"Molly pouted and hung her head sulkily, but,continued to drum upon the table. Presently,Phebe, who was too good natured to enjoy hersister's chagrin, after her first momentaryglance of triumph, began to make friendlyovertures.
62 CHEW ALLEY; OR," You can't guess where I've been, thisafternoon, Molly," she said. Molly vouch-safed no reply, and manifested no interest;but Phebe was accustomed to this, and pro-ceeded confidentially: "I went into Ph'lenyBrooks's room, and showed her my card, andwhat d'ye s'pose she's going to do ?"The drumming went on vigorously, butMolly's sullen lips were tight-shut still." She's a queer woman as ever I see in mylife," resumed Phebe, "but she's pretty good;she's going' to learn me reading. "" I guess so!" said Molly, fairly surprisedout of her silence. " What for ? ""'Cause she knew how I wanted to learnthe worst kind," answered Phebe." Don't believe mother'll let you," saidMolly." Yes, but she will, for I told her, and shesaid she was glad of it, and I'm going to beginto-morrow afternoon, and you see if I don't
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 63beat you all out. Gi' me a chance, and I'lllearn as fast as anybody." Phebe spoke con-fidently, but her bright, intelligent face onlyconfirmed her words."It's easy enough to brag," sneered Molly," but I don't care how much you learn. I'dhave a better teacher'n that old woman,though."" I'll take anybody I can get," said Phebe."That's right, my gal." It was Mr. Millroythat spoke, having been a silent listener to theconversation thus far. "Don't be above get-ting information from anybody that knowsmore'n you do yourself. I take it very kindof Ph'leny Brooks to make such an offer's thatto one o' my children, and you'd best keep, acivil tongue in your head when you speak ofher, Molly; that's my advice to you."A second time reproved, the sulky looksettled still more 'heavily on Molly's counte-nance, and an angry glance shot from her
64 CHEW ALLEY; OR,eyes. She rose from her seat, and went tothe window opposite, that from which herbrothers were still hanging, and there .shestood, whistling, and nursing, her wrath, whilePhebe, having finished the dishes, followedher father to the door-step, and, encouraged byhis kindness, sat down beside him, with hercard on her lap. His eye fell upon it after awhile, and, attracted by the picture, he tookit up, and turned it over and over."Is this what the lady give you?" heasked."Yes," answered Phebe, "ain't it realpretty? "" Middling yes, but it's no great. There'sprettier in the shops."" I never see none of 'em," said Phebe."I guess not; they cost money, and wehaven't any to spare for such things. -There'sgood reading on this, though, I'll say that;"and Mr. Millroy spelled out word after word,
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 65not without considerable difficulty. "I hopeyou'll take heed to 't, and it wouldn't comeamiss to any of us, for that matter. So you'rea-going to have some schoolin' after all ?""She said she'd learn me to read," Phebereplied." A queer old creature' that, but clever underthe shell, I reckon," said Mr. Millroy, medita-tively. " You must mind your manners, andnot be sassy to her, Phebe; you're apt to letyour tongue run on, when you get your feeling'sworked up, and she ain't one o' the kind tostan' it."" Why in the world 'don't you light alamp ?" cried Mrs. Millroy, tripping over achair as.she entered the kitchen. " I do be-lieve you'd sit in the dark till midnight, beforeone of you'd -think to stir! Boys, why ain'tyou a bed ? Get in from the window, andstart. Molly, you're to go too, and not a wordof parleying, either." While giving these sharp
66 CHEW ALLEY; OR,orders, she struck a match and lighted a can-dle, to find that the molasses was drippingover the side of the cup down the frontbreadth of her dress. It was discouraging,and Mrs. Millroy was very weary after herday's work, and her husband sat apparentlyquite unmindful of her vexation, so she spokemore sharply than before." I wish there was anybody in this house tosee to things, besides me! Children, whydon't you do as I told you ? Phebe, get acloth and wipe off this molasses. Yourfather'd sit there and let the boys ride over hishead, 'fore he'd say a word to stop 'em, andyou're about as much like him as two peas ina pod! There! it's no use; that cloth'sdirty, and it makes the gown-look worsen itdid afore."" I can't help it," returned Phebe, impa-tiently. "I've rubbed it the best I can."" If you'd had a lamp, as you'd ought to, I
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 67shouldn't ha' spilt it, it all comes of yournot attending to your business. I hope in pityyou won't have to car' your father's dinneranother day! You've about lost your witsthis time."" 'Tain't my business to light the lamp, anymore'n 'tis Molly's," retorted Phebe, " onlyI'm blamed for'everything, and she does justas she's a mind to. I was a-talkin' to father,and she wa'n't doing nothing, only hanging' outthe window'n whistlin'."" That's nothing' to you," cried Molly, fromthe small closet where she was preparing forbed, and which she and Phebe shared together;" I'll hang out the window an' whistle just asmuch as I'm a mind to."This declaration of independence was re-ceived with shouts of applause by the boyswho had crawled under their mother's bed totheir own pallet of straw."' I'll take a stick to every one of you, if
68 CHEW ALLEY; OR,you don't hush up this minute," threatenedMrs. Millroy. " I never saw such children inall my life, and there you sit, Peter, as cool asthough everything was as smooth as oil!"A long whiff from his pipe, and a cloud ofsmoke was the only reply that Mr. Millroymade to his wife's accusation, but very shortlyafter, he got up from the doorstep, and puttingon his cap, strolled across the street with hishands in his pockets." Gone to Batchelder's 's true 's.I live!"exclaimed Mrs. Millroy, looking after him." That's too bad!" and then she sighed, butthe sigh, and the sorrow that caused it, cametoo late. It was not the first time, that atumult at home, anda shower of angry words,had driven Mr. Millroy to seek the excitementof the gaming table. He -was sure of a smil-ing welcome there, for Joan Batchelder andher husband Tom, knew well the art of en-trapping the unwary, and they were deter-
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 69mined to number their neighbor Millroyamong the miserable victims who throngedtheir dingy saloon, and the low billiard roomjust back of it." Gone to Batchelder's!" echoed Phebe." I say it's a shame! We was havin' a realgood time- "" Yes," interrupted her mother, " that's justthe mischief of it. If you'd been attending toyour business and got the lamp lighted, andthings. straight as you'd ought to, therewouldn't a' been any fuss. It all comes o'your head being upsot with people's takingnotice of you. Go to bed, out o' my sight."Phebe obeyed, but her eyes flashed, and hercheeks burned with indignation at the injusticeof the charge. The pleasure of the day andits bright promise for the future faded, and toadd to her trouble, Molly, still awake, greetedher with a derisive laugh, and a triumphant," Glad of it! you needn't set up 'bove mean' the boys next time."
70 CHEW ALLEY.Phebe made no answer, though bitter wordswere on her lips, but throwing herself uponthe hard bed, she closed her eyes over thescalding tears, and wondered how it would bepossible to make sunshine in the house whereMolly and the boys lived.
CHAPTER V.9 PH'LENY BROOKS sat until almostdark working buttonholes on a smalljacket, and talking to herself. Thishabit of talking to herself had grownupon her in the long years that she had livedalone, with- no one to speak to except when aneighbor dropped in for a friendly call, or onthe rare occasions when she dropped into aneighbors'.Frequently she sustained conversations witha being of her Imagination, who answeredand- propounded questions, made moral reflec-71
72 CHEW ALLEY; OR,tions, commended or condemned her conductas the case might be, the dialogue being car-ried on by Ph'leny's voice pitched on .twoentirely different keys. It was such a conver-sation as this that she engaged in when thedoor had closed behind Phebe Millroy." I suppose I'm a sheer fool for making suchan offer," said Ph'leny, biting off her thread,and drawing the yellow bees-wax over it." There will be no end to the trial of mypatience, and it will take a good full hour outof my time every day, for I won't do the thingby halves if I undertake it at all. I don'tknow what set me out to mention it.""It's no more than you ought to do," an-swered Ph'leny's Imaginary Companion in adeep voice. " What's your life good for if notto help others ? and who in the world do youever help but yourself? Don't be sorry ifyour heart has opened for once.""" It's all I can do to look out for myself,"
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 73said Ph'leny, in her own quavering accents." No money, and nothing to do with, there'sno reason in my undertaking to shoulder otherpeople.""Don't try to excuse yourself. You'vetime enough if you choose to take it, youknow that;" the voice was condemnatory;" the trouble with you is you're downrightselfish, Ph'leny Brooks. In your opinionthere's nobody of quite so much consequenceas yourself. You ought to be thankful of theopportunity to help a poor child."" I don't know about that. If folks willhave children when they aren't able to takecare of them, there's no reason why unmar-ried women should burden themselves to seeto their education;" and Ph'leny gave an in-dignant little sniff." How much have you ever burdened your-self with such cares ?" queried the ImaginaryCompanion. " Whose children have you everhelped to educate ? "
74 CHEW ALLEY; OR," There was Tommy Turtle for one. Anddidn't he torment my life almost out of mewith his antics ? Didn't he pull my bridal roseup by the roots, and spill my ink, and tear thefly leaf out of my Bible to tie on to the tail ofhis kite, and cut my best chair with his jack-knife ? and wasn't he one whole month learn-ing his letters, and another month getting sohe could spell his own name ? Yes, there wasTommy Turtle; I did everything for that childthat even you could have expected of me, andonly turned him off when he stuck pins in theback of my chair. That was too much forhuman nature to bear."" Wouldn't you have done your duty better,if you had held on to the poor little fellowand had patience with his mischievous ways ?He had no mother, you know, to teach him,and was left to run wild in the streets. Hewas sorry, you remember, and promised to doeverything you told him to do, if you would
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 75only let him come for his lesson. Ph'leny,you had more influence over the boy than anyone else, and if he comes to harm, as hedoubtless will, who will be-to blame ?""Not I," answered Ph'leny, stoutly; butthe Imaginary Companion quietly put thisassertion aside." You will see it some day, and be sorry.The Lord didn't give you up like that, whenyou used to pull your shoulders away fromthe yoke He was putting'on them. He didn'tturn you off, when you treated Him carelessly.You were a great many years learning thelessons He set for you; but He kept on teach-ing, and was patient with all your folly."Ph'leny's needle flew over her work, andher sallow face flushed. " I know that," sheanswered, in a less assured tone; " but it isn'tto the point. I've clothed up more than onechild to go to Sunday school, and what gooddid it do ? These children in Chew Alley are
76 CHEW ALLEY; OR,as slippery as eels, they are. Dick Shafterwas on hand just twice, and then his clothesweren't fit to be seen; Patty Grimes' mothersold her gown and hat for rum, before she'dhad them on a single Sunday; and PhillyMills went to Sunday school four times, andthen her folks moved away. It's a discourag-ing thing to try to help anybody in this place."" But you ought not to be discouraged," re-turned the deep voice of the Imaginary Com-panion. 'You ought to stand on higherground. Did your Lord give up, because itwas discouraging work to try and save sin-ners? Oh, Ph'leny, you haven't got the spiritof the Master ? "" I don't say I have," said Ph'leny, with animpatient jerk of her needle. "I a'n't goingto deny but that I'm a cross-grained old maid,but then I have tried in my day to do some-thing for other folks. I don't know how it is,but no matter what I begin to talk about, you
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 77are sure to be at me about my faults and short-comings. A'n't I a member of the church ingood and regular standing ? and a'n't I in myseat as regular as Sunday comes ? and don't Ialways put in my mite when the collection istaken up for missions? and is there a daypasses without my reading a chapter in myBible ? and saying my prayers ? and don't Iscrimp and pinch myself every way for thesake of paying for my seat in church, for allit's way back under the gallery and no cushionon it ?"" Oh, ho! self-righteous, are you, Ph'leny?boasting of your good works ? Expect to findyour way into Heaven by that door, do you ?Ph'leny shook her head, and for a fewminutes the little room was so still that theticking of the old silver watch that had faith-fully followed all her fortunes, sounded start-lingly loud. Unfortunately for Ph'leny's com-posure, the burden of it's song, just now,
78 CHEW ALLEY; OR,Seemed to be a sprightly echo of the Imagin-ary Companion's accusation, and it said asplainly as ever a watch could by it's ticking:" Good works! good works.! good works!"until she was driven to take it down from thenail on which it hung at the head of her bed,and hide it in the upper drawer of her chest,under a pile of clean pillow-cases.But no sooner had she resumed her seatand work then, " What did you do that for? "demanded the Imaginary Companion. " Youcan put your watch out of hearing, but youcan't help hearing me. Now own up, fair andhonest, Ph'leny Brooks, what was your objectin offering to teach the Millroy girl to read ? "" It's more than I know," answered Ph'leny." I was a fool for doing it, as I said before. Isuppose it was because she seemed so eager tolearn, for one thing, and I know what it is tobe kept from school, when you're just achingto get an education."
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 79" That's good,. so far," returned the Imagin-ary Companion, approvingly; "and now I'lltell you another reason. You expect to easeyour conscience about that poor little TommyTurtle. You think if you teach the Millroygirl, it will make up for sending him away toshift for himself; but don't you believe it,He will end in the prison, or on the gallows,unless you look him up depend upon it,Ph'leny Brooks."To this repeated assertion Ph'leny *made noresponse, and the conversation closed. Shefinished her work just before dusk of the longafternoon, and making it up into a neat bun-dle, went to the closet for her supper, whichconsisted of a cup of milk and two crackers.Having thus satisfied her appetite, she nextproceeded to draw from under the'bed an im-mense bandbox, in which her " Sunday bonnetand shawl" were kept, with scrupulous care."On the wall, between the two windows, hung
80 CHEW ALLEY; OR,a very tiny looking "glass, in a battered giltframe, and before this, by the dim light,Ph'leny arranged the ancient bonnet, pullingout the bows of green gauze ribbon, andstraightening the strings under her chin.Then she wet her side hair with her fingers,and smoothed it with a bit of horn comb thallay on the pine shelf under the glass, pinnedher shawl, gave a little fluttering sigh, as sheremembered how becoming that bonnet was,when. it was bought, fresh and new, fifteenyears ago, took up her bundle, locked the door,and put the key in her pocket, and set forth onher errand.This errand led her out of Chew Alley, withall its disagreeable sights and sounds, quite". ..away from narrow streets, and dingy housesof wood and brick, to a fine, broad avenue,shaded on either side by noble old elms, andadorned with spacious stone dwelling houses,with here and there a church covered with ivy .2 t " .. " *'* .**- '-.'*- '- ":'' .''r ,.- " J
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 81all lying still and white in the moonlight, andso far removed from the busy thoroughfares,that it seemed more like the main street of acountry town than one of the avenues of agreat city." Now it is something worth while to workfor a rich old family like the- Omsteads," saidPh'leny Brooks, as she edged along the side-walk with her bundle carefully concealed un-der her shawl. It brings one into such fineplaces, and makes one feel so respectable.It makes me feel like a lady for the timebeing."The Imaginary Companion, who might besaid to be Ph'leny's double, here thrust in adisagreeable, but wholesome suggestion to theeffect that a.real lady would not put on andtake off her ladyhood to suit different situa-tions, but would be a lady in Chew Alley aswell as on Pembroke Avenue; in her every-day garments as well as in her Sunday best.
82 CHEW ALLEY; OR,"Perhaps so," admitted Ph'leny, doubtfully," but it's my humble opinion that a lady inChew Alley would be as much out of place asa jewel in a swine's snout;" and then shetripped up the broad granite steps of one ofthe finest of all the fine houses, and pulled thebell, for once cutting off the Imaginary Com-panion in the midst of a grave rejoinder.The door was opened by a servant man whohad grown gray in the service of that house.He knew the little old tailoress at a glance,and made her a stately bow, throwing the doorwider, and inviting her into the hall." Mrs. Omstead is out this evening," hesaid, as she courtesied and stepped across thethreshold. " Will you leave a message ?"As Ph'leny was about to reply, a child camesliding down stairs, his arm over the railing,Sand cried out" It's Miss Philena, and she's brought myjacket! Mamma has gone out with papa for
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 83a long, long walk, but sister Rose is at home,Miss Philena. Please come up stairs. Iwant to see my new jacket.""Did Miss Rose bid you, Master Kenneth ?"asked the old servant."That is not any matter, Roger," repliedthe child with a wilful shake of his prettyhead. " Sister Rose wants to see my jacket,too, and Miss Philena always comes up whenmamma is at home.""I'm the last person in the world thatwould go where I wasn't wanted, Mr. Roger,"said Ph'leny, as she gave the gauze bonnetstrings a significant toss, " but I've a messageto leave for Mrs. Omstead about the jacket,and so I guess I'll venture to go up with Mas-ter Kenneth, by your leave."Roger bowed, and waved his hand with suchoverpowering dignity that Ph'leny was quiteovercome, but Kenneth had her by the shawl,and pulled her after him up the stairs, usher-
84 CHEW ALLEY; OR,ing her into a pleasant sitting-room, whereshe had often been received before. The longwindows, shaded by a drapery of lace, werewide open, to admit the fresh evening air sograteful after the day's heat; and in one ofthem sat a young lady, who rose and came for-ward. with a pleasant smile as soon as her eyecaught the odd little figure of the tailoress."Good evening, Miss Brooks," she said,courteously, offering a chair."I think she's got my jacket in her pocketsister Rose !" broke in Kenneth; " my jacketthat I am to wear to school. Don't you wantto see it ? Say yes, please, do, Rosie dear "Miss Omstead laughed and said yes, andPh'leny, producing 'the package from underher shawl, proceeded to unpin the paper wrap-per, and put the pins, for want of a pin-. cushion, into her mouth." You must not do that, Miss Philena," saidKenneth,-his attention attracted, for the mo-9
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 85ment, from his jacket; " if you should swal-low those pins into your throat, you would besick and die. Did not you know that ? ""Why, yes; but I've got such a habitof doing it," answered Ph'leny, quite em-barrassed. " It is a very bad practice. Ihope you will like your jacket," she added, byway of diverting the bright black eyes fromherself. "I've put in a breast-pocket, MissOmstead, as your mother directed, and thereare six button-holes. If it isn't just right,she will let me know; but I'm sure of onething, she will find better work in it than isput into boys' jackets in the shops. Thesesewing-machines go over the ground power-fully fast, but for work that will last, and beevery way satisfactory, give me hand sewing.I wouldn't take the gift of a machine, thoughI could make a small fortune by it, I don'tdoubt, for I'm not one of the kind to be takenby new notions. There, bubby, a'n't you alittle man ? "
86 CHEW ALLEY; OR,"My name is Kenneth. I thought youknew that, Miss Philena," said the child, asshe buttoned the last button, and turned himround, to survey the effect of her work. " Ido not like to be called bubby."" I mustn't do it again, then," said Ph'leny," but it's another of my bad habits. Do youlike your jacket ?"" Do you like it ?" Kenneth asked Rose, ashe smoothed down the sleeves, and patted hisfirst pocket, with great satisfaction." Very well," answered Rose, "only itmakes my baby brother look like a big boy "" I am a big boy," said Kenneth. " I amfour years old, and almost five. I shall takecare of you and mamma, now, when papa isaway, and you need not be a speck afraid. Ifany burglars come to this house, I will puton my jacket and frighten them so that theywill run like everything! Now I'm going tofind my slate pencil, and my marbles, and all
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 87the things that I'm going to keep in mypocket."" Mamma wished me to give you a bundleof work, if you called while she was out,"said Miss Omstead to Ph'leny, as Kennethskipped away; " and also to pay you for thejacket."" Mrs. Omstead is always as prompt as theclock about paying," said Ph'leny, " and Ican't deny but it is very agreeable to me, forI've only my needle to depend upon, as sheknows. It isn't every lady that bears that inmind, though. Seventy-five cents is my pricefor small jackets like your brother's, MissRose, and I'm sure Mrs. Omstead will see thatit's done without slighting. It is against myprinciples to slight anything I undertake.Thank you, Miss Rose," she added, as theyoung lady handed her the money; "pleasegive my respectful compliments to yourmother, and tell her that I am very much
88 CHEW ALLEY; OR,obliged for her patronage. It is very pleasantto be appreciated by such ladies as she is, andas most of my employers are."Miss Omstead smiled, and said that shethought people were generally appreciated inproportion to their real worth, and then shekindly enquired if she could do anything morefor Miss Brooks.Ph'leny reflected a moment, and then re-plied hesItatingly:" If you would be so kind as to give me acast-off primer, or spelling book, one that thelittle boy is quite done with, I would considerit a great favor, Miss Rose. To tell you the-truth, I have taken a pupil."At this announcement, Miss Rose smiledagain, and Ph'leny, who was doing her best toshow by her language and manners that onPembroke Avenue she was a lady, whatevershe might be in the unpropitious atmosphereof Chew Alley, curtsied, and went on:
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 89" Yes, Miss Rose, I have taken a pupil--ayoung girl who has no advantages. Herparents are poor, and she is obliged to stay athome from school, and at fourteen is unable toread, which is of course a great shame."" Yes," said Miss Omstead, "every childought to be taught to read and write. I amglad you have offered to teach her. By theway, Miss Brooks, how does Tommy Turtleget on with his reading ? ""I dismissed Tommy Turtle," Ph'leny an-swered severely. "He was a mischievousboy, and didn't appreciate what was done forhim. I let him take the primer that yourmother gave 'me for him, with the hope thathe would gain some profit from it, but I sup-pose he has cut it up for the tail of hiskite, long before this. I thought at the time Iwould never take another pupil; but this Mill-roy girl is a well behaved child, and seemedso eager to learn that I changed my mind inher favor.
90 CHEW ALLEY; OR," I am glad of it, Miss Brooks; it is pleas-ant to be able to assist others who are not ashighly favored as ourselves; but -" and hereMiss Omstead spoke in a graver tone -" I amsorry that you could not keep on with thatpoor Tommy Turtle. The little fellow has ahard, bad life before him, I fear."" I did the best I could," said Ph'leny,settling the bonnet strings, and pinning hershawl. "I don't wish the boy any harm, buteven I can't endure everything."" I will go and look for a primer for yournew scholar," said Miss Omstead, gently." There!" exclaimed Ph'leny, as she leftthe room, " I suppose she thinks I'm harshand unfeeling; but if she would have anymore patience than I had, I'd just like to seeher try it."When Miss Omstead returned, she broughtnot only a primer, but two or three otherbooks, with colored pictures, and a package of
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 91.small reward cards, all of which she put into.Ph'leny's hand, with an injunction to usethem freely, as an encouragement and incentive to the new pupil, and promising more,whenever they were needed But she said notanother word about Tommy Turtle, andPh'leny returned her pleasant good evening,and went down stairs with the uncomfortablefeeling that the young lady did not approvethe course which she had pursued with thatperverse youth.She hastened her steps now, for it was nineo'clock, and with a sigh, passed out of thebroad, beautiful avenue, where it was so " easyto be a lady," down into the crowded streets,down farther still among the dingy houses ofbrick and wood, until she reached her owndoor, in disorderly, undesirable, dismal ChewAlley.But even there, on every shabby, dilap-idated dwelling, the silver moonlight shone,
92 CHEW ALLEY.and beautified all; and as Ph'leny paused asingle moment on the creaking threshold, theImaginary Companion said softly:" The good Lord sends the moonlight andthe sunlight, the rain and the fair sky, to com-fort the poor and the wicked, just as He sendsthem to the rich and the good. He is notniggardly with His gifts. Can't you learnyour lesson, Ph'leny Brooks ?""I'll see," answered Ph'leny; and then shewent down the entry, out of the light andbeauty, to her, own dark little room.
CHAP TE R VI.HEBE MILLROY presented herself atPhileny Brooks's door on the follow-ing afternoon, with praiseworthy punc-"tuality. Her face and hands fairlyshone from their bath of strong soap-suds, andher hair combed neatly away from her foreheadwas braided in two short stiff braids and tiedbehind her ears with two bits of white woolenyarn. She had put on for the occasion Molly'sclean calico gown, but as it was rather scant inthe sleeves and short in the skirt and tightaround the waist and in the neck, it was far lesscomfortable than tidy. But Phebe was in no93
94 CHEW ALLEY; OR,mood to be troubled by discomforts so trifling;her face wore a broad, bright smile, and hereyes-sparkled with delight as she stepped intothe room in answer to Ph'leny's, .Come in."I supposed it was you," said Ph'leny,glancing up from her work,,." and I am gladyou are on hand at the time set. If there isone thing that I dislike more than another itis to have people fail to be punctual, especiallywhen any one is waiting for them. I supposeyou have made up your mind to learn ? "" That's what I came for," answered Phebe."I'll try.""I hope you will. You must pay close at-tention, and be patient unless you want tomake hard work of it. Here is the book,"and Ph'leny took the primer from the shelfand opened its pictured pages to Phebe's ad-miring gaze."Do you s'pose I'll ever get able to readthem stories?" she queried, with sparklingeyes.
HOW TO MAKE SUNSHINE. 95"That is for you to say," replied Ph'leny,searching in her old work-box for a darningneedle to use for a pointer; " so far as I knowthere's nothing to hinder. You know yourletters, and can read words of one syllable;that's in your favor to start with. Now youmay begin here at,' Tom is a good boy,' and Iwill see how well you can do."Phebe was too much in earnest to feel em-barassed. She fixed her eyes on the page,and following Ph'leny's pointer, read.the firstlesson in a loud voice and without stopping tospell a single word." Better than I expected," said Ph'leny, ap-provingly. " What you do know you are sureof, and that is more than can be said of everybody." Then, she turned the leaf, and hereager pupil proceeded, regardless of every-thing but the work in hand, until Ph'lenyclosed the book, and replaced it on the shelf." That is enough for one lesson," she said.