Kabanata Kabanata 13 · Bass met Jennie at the depot in Cleveland and talked hopefully of

the prospects. "The first thing is to get work," he began, while the

jingling sounds and the changing odors which the city thrust upon her

were confusing and almost benumbing her senses. "Get something to do.

It doesn't matter what, so long as you get something. If you don't get

more than three or four dollars a week, it will pay the rent. Then,

with what George can earn, when he comes, and what Pop sends, we can

get along all right. It'll be better than being down in that hole," he

concluded.

"Yes," said Jennie, vaguely, her mind so hypnotized by the new

display of life about her that she could not bring it forcibly to bear

upon the topic under discussion. "I know what you mean. I'll get

something."

She was much older now, in understanding if not in years. The

ordeal through which she had so recently passed had aroused in her a

clearer conception of the responsibilities of life. Her mother was

always in her mind, her mother and the children. In particular Martha

and Veronica must have a better opportunity to do for themselves than

she had had. They should be dressed better; they ought to be kept

longer in school; they must have more companionship, more opportunity

to broaden their lives.

Cleveland, like every other growing city at this time, was crowded

with those who were seeking employment. New enterprises were

constantly springing up, but those who were seeking to fulfil the

duties they provided were invariably in excess of the demand. A

stranger coming to the city might walk into a small position of almost

any kind on the very day he arrived; and he might as readily wander in

search of employment for weeks and even months. Bass suggested the

shops and department stores as a first field in which to inquire. The

factories and other avenues of employment were to be her second

choice.

"Don't pass a place, though," he had cautioned her, "if you think

there's any chance of getting anything to do. Go right in."

"What must I say?" asked Jennie, nervously.

"Tell them you want work. You don't care what you do to begin

with."

In compliance with this advice, Jennie set out the very first day,

and was rewarded by some very chilly experiences. Wherever she went,

no one seemed to want any help. She applied at the stores, the

factories, the little shops that lined the outlying thoroughfares, but

was always met by a rebuff. As a last resource she turned to

housework, although she had hoped to avoid that; and, studying the

want columns, she selected four which seemed more promising than the

others. To these she decided to apply. One had already been filled

when she arrived, but the lady who came to the door was so taken by

her appearance that she invited her in and questioned her as to her

ability.

"I wish you had come a little earlier," she said. "I like you

better than I do the girl I have taken. Leave me your address,

anyhow."

Jennie went away, smiling at her reception. She was not quite so

youthful looking as she had been before her recent trouble, but the

thinner cheeks and the slightly deeper eyes added to the pensiveness

and delicacy of her countenance. She was a model of neatness. Her

clothes, all newly cleaned and ironed before leaving home, gave her a

fresh and inviting appearance. There was growth coming to her in the

matter of height, but already in appearance and intelligence she

looked to be a young woman of twenty. Best of all, she was of that

naturally sunny disposition, which, in spite of toil and privation,

kept her always cheerful. Any one in need of a servant-girl or house

companion would have been delighted to have had her.

The second place at which she applied was a large residence in

Euclid Avenue; it seemed far too imposing for anything she might have

to offer in the way of services, but having come so far she decided to

make the attempt. The servant who met her at the door directed her to

wait a few moments, and finally ushered her into the boudoir of the

mistress of the house on the second floor. The latter, a Mrs.

Bracebridge, a prepossessing brunette of the conventionally

fashionable type, had a keen eye for feminine values and was impressed

rather favorably with Jennie. She talked with her a little while, and

finally decided to try her in the general capacity of maid.

"I will give you four dollars a week, and you can sleep here if you

wish," said Mrs. Bracebridge.

Jennie explained that she was living with her brother, and would

soon have her family with her.

"Oh, very well," replied her mistress. "Do as you like about that.

Only I expect you to be here promptly."

She wished her to remain for the day and to begin her duties at

once, and Jennie agreed. Mrs. Bracebridge provided her a dainty cap

and apron, and then spent some little time in instructing her in her

duties. Her principal work would be to wait on her mistress, to brush

her hair and to help her dress. She was also to answer the bell, wait

on the table if need be, and do any other errand which her mistress

might indicate. Mrs. Bracebridge seemed a little hard and formal to

her prospective servant, but for all that Jennie admired the dash and

go and the obvious executive capacity of her employer.

At eight o'clock that evening Jennie was dismissed for the day. She

wondered if she could be of any use in such a household, and marveled

that she had got along as well as she had. Her mistress had set her to

cleaning her jewelry and boudoir ornaments as an opening task, and

though she had worked steadily and diligently, she had not finished by

the time she left. She hurried away to her brother's apartment,

delighted to be able to report that she had found a situation. Now her

mother could come to Cleveland. Now she could have her baby with her.

Now they could really begin that new life which was to be so much

better and finer and sweeter than anything they had ever had

before.

At Bass's suggestion Jennie wrote her mother to come at once, and a

week or so later a suitable house was found and rented. Mrs. Gerhardt,

with the aid of the children, packed up the simple belongings of the

family, including a single vanload of furniture, and at the end of a

fortnight they were on their way to the new home.

Mrs. Gerhardt always had had a keen desire for a really comfortable

home. Solid furniture, upholstered and trimmed, a thick, soft carpet

of some warm, pleasing color, plenty of chairs, settees, pictures, a

lounge, and a piano she had wanted these nice things all her life, but

her circumstances had never been good enough for her hopes to be

realized. Still she did not despair. Some day, maybe, before she died

these things would be added to her, and she would be happy. Perhaps

her chance was coming now.

Arrived at Cleveland, this feeling of optimism was encouraged by

the sight of Jennie's cheerful face. Bass assured her that they would

get along all right. He took them out to the house, and George was

shown the way to go back to the depot and have the freight looked

after. Mrs. Gerhardt had still fifty dollars left out of the money

which Senator Brander had sent to Jennie, and with this a way of

getting a little extra furniture on the instalment plan was provided.

Bass had already paid the first month's rent, and Jennie had spent her

evenings for the last few days in washing the windows and floors of

this new house and in getting it into a state of perfect cleanliness.

Now, when the first night fell, they had two new mattresses and

comfortables spread upon a clean floor; a new lamp, purchased from one

of the nearby stores, a single box, borrowed by Jennie from a grocery

store, for cleaning purposes, upon which Mrs. Gerhardt could sit, and

some sausages and bread to stay them until morning. They talked and

planned for the future until nine o'clock came, when all but Jennie

and her mother retired. These two talked on, the burden of

responsibilities resting on the daughter. Mrs. Gerhardt had come to

feel in a way dependent upon her.

In the course of a week the entire cottage was in order, with a

half-dozen pieces of new furniture, a new carpet, and some necessary

kitchen utensils. The most disturbing thing was the need of a new

cooking-stove, the cost of which added greatly to the bill. The

younger children were entered at the public school, but it was decided

that George must find some employment. Both Jennie and her mother felt

the injustice of this keenly, but knew no way of preventing the

sacrifice.

"We will let him go to school next year if we can," said

Jennie.

Auspiciously as the new life seemed to have begun, the closeness

with which their expenses were matching their income was an

ever-present menace. Bass, originally very generous in his

propositions, soon announced that he felt four dollars a week for his

room and board to be a sufficient contribution from himself. Jennie

gave everything she earned, and protested that she did not stand in

need of anything, so long as the baby was properly taken care of.

George secured a place as an overgrown cash-boy, and brought in two

dollars and fifty cents a week, all of which, at first, he gladly

contributed. Later on he was allowed the fifty cents for himself as

being meet and just. Gerhardt, from his lonely post of labor,

contributed five dollars by mail, always arguing that a little money

ought to be saved in order that his honest debts back in Columbus

might be paid. Out of this total income of fifteen dollars a week all

of these individuals had to be fed and clothed, the rent paid, coal

purchased, and the regular monthly instalment of three dollars paid on

the outstanding furniture bill of fifty dollars.

How it was done, those comfortable individuals, who frequently

discuss the social aspects of poverty, might well trouble to inform

themselves. Rent, coal, and light alone consumed the goodly sum of

twenty dollars a month; food, another unfortunately necessary item,

used up twenty-five more; clothes, instalments, dues, occasional items

of medicine and the like, were met out of the remaining eleven

dollars--how, the ardent imagination of the comfortable reader

can guess. It was done, however, and for a time the hopeful members

considered that they were doing fairly well.

During this period the little family presented a picture of

honorable and patient toil, which was interesting to contemplate.

Every day Mrs. Gerhardt, who worked like a servant and who received

absolutely no compensation either in clothes, amusements, or anything

else, arose in the morning while the others slept, and built the fire.

Then she took up the task of getting the breakfast. Often as she moved

about noiselessly in her thin, worn slippers, cushioned with pieces of

newspaper to make them fit, she looked in on Jennie, Bass, and George,

wrapped in their heavy slumbers, and with that divine sympathy which

is born in heaven she wished that they did not need to rise so early

or to work so hard. Sometimes she would pause before touching her

beloved Jennie, gaze at her white face, so calm in sleep, and lament

that life had not dealt more kindly with her. Then she would lay her

hand gently upon her shoulder and whisper, "Jennie, Jennie," until the

weary sleeper would wake.

When they arose breakfast was always ready. When they returned at

night supper was waiting. Each of the children received a due share of

Mrs. Gerhardt's attention. The little baby was closely looked after by

her. She protested that she needed neither clothes nor shoes so long

as one of the children would run errands for her.

Jennie, of all the children, fully understood her mother; she alone

strove, with the fullness of a perfect affection, to ease her

burden.

"Ma, you let me do this."

"Now, ma, I'll 'tend to that."

"You go sit down, ma."

These were the every-day expressions of the enduring affection that

existed between them. Always there was perfect understanding between

Jennie and her mother, and as the days passed this naturally widened

and deepened. Jennie could not bear to think of her as being always

confined to the house. Daily she thought as she worked of that humble

home where her mother was watching and waiting. How she longed to give

her those comforts which she had always craved!