Read Online Spice Box by Grace Livingston Hill - Free Book Online
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
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precincts.
“Sure, used to tend the furnace, and I used to come in this room when she paid me. She used to give me twenty-five cents a week.” He stopped and gave Ernestine a fragment of his cake.
Martha’s face lighted.
“Oh,” she said, “then perhaps I can get you to attend to my furnace next fall. But I think twenty-five cents is too little for all that work. How often did you come?”
“Morning and evening.” The boy’s eyes were shining.
“Well, will you have time to look after mine? And suppose we say fifty cents a week?”
“Oh gee!” he said, stooping to tickle Ernestine under the chin to hide his pleasure. “But good night! It ain’t worth that much!”
“Well, it’s settled then. I’m sure it will be worth at least that much to me.” Martha had very little idea about the prevailing standards of salaries for taking care of furnaces, but she was sure at first thought that twenty-five cents wasn’t enough, even if he did live only next door.
“Now,” she said, seeing that the gingerbread had pretty well vanished and the boy had stopped eating, “suppose we go down to the cellar and see if the furnace is all right for next fall. I know that’s some time away, but it is well to know what to count on, and I always like to have things in good order in plenty of time.”
She was surprising herself by making all these excuses for prolonging the boy’s call, but somehow the house seemed so much less cheerless with the boy’s cheery freckled face in it.
“Did you have the smoke pipe taken down?” asked the young fireman. “I told her it ought to be done, but she said she might want a fire again. And then when she took sick, of course, I didn’t come anymore. She had a nurse here, you know. The pipe was pretty old last winter.”
“Well, now I don’t know anything about that, whether it was taken down or not. I never had anything to do with furnaces before. Suppose we go down and look at it?”
So they went down. She walked anxiously through the unknown precincts of her cellar and looked around curiously.
“It’s plumb gone,” said Ronald wisely, putting a stubby finger through the rust. “See there! You’ll have to get a new pipe.”
“Well, that ought to be attended to at once, and have it ready to set up when it gets near fall. It’s always good to be prepared for changing seasons. I wonder where I’ll get someone to fix it. Do you know a good man near here? Could you get me one and see that he does what ought to be done? Of course I’ll pay you for your trouble. Suppose we say your salary begins now, and then I’ll feel free to call on you for little things when I need them. We’ll settle a fair rate, and you can keep a record of the time it takes. I suppose there will be a lot of things like this before I really get settled here and down to living.”
“Aw gee, I’ll do that, of course. I’ll get Bennett, he’s a good man. He doesn’t charge as much as Simpson either. He’s a good friend of mine. But I don’t want pay for a little thing like that. That’s not work.”
“Oh yes it is, and I must insist that you have a salary or a regular price by the hour, or something, or I will not feel free to call you when I need you.”
The boy looked at her as if she were a new specimen.
“Okay,” he grinned, “have it your own way, only you don’t haveta pay me for things that aren’t work.”
“Yes,” said the lady. “I’m paying for taking the responsibility of little things that I don’t understand and might forget, don’t you see?”
“Okay, if you’re sure it’s all right,” he said doubtfully. And so it was arranged. But she marveled at this attitude. A sense of financial fairness was not what she had always been led to expect of a boy. Was it possible that there were other boys like him? As she thought about it, she vaguely recalled a sentence in that article on boys that had said something about their fineness of soul. Well, if it meant
“Sure, used to tend the furnace, and I used to come in this room when she paid me. She used to give me twenty-five cents a week.” He stopped and gave Ernestine a fragment of his cake.
Martha’s face lighted.
“Oh,” she said, “then perhaps I can get you to attend to my furnace next fall. But I think twenty-five cents is too little for all that work. How often did you come?”
“Morning and evening.” The boy’s eyes were shining.
“Well, will you have time to look after mine? And suppose we say fifty cents a week?”
“Oh gee!” he said, stooping to tickle Ernestine under the chin to hide his pleasure. “But good night! It ain’t worth that much!”
“Well, it’s settled then. I’m sure it will be worth at least that much to me.” Martha had very little idea about the prevailing standards of salaries for taking care of furnaces, but she was sure at first thought that twenty-five cents wasn’t enough, even if he did live only next door.
“Now,” she said, seeing that the gingerbread had pretty well vanished and the boy had stopped eating, “suppose we go down to the cellar and see if the furnace is all right for next fall. I know that’s some time away, but it is well to know what to count on, and I always like to have things in good order in plenty of time.”
She was surprising herself by making all these excuses for prolonging the boy’s call, but somehow the house seemed so much less cheerless with the boy’s cheery freckled face in it.
“Did you have the smoke pipe taken down?” asked the young fireman. “I told her it ought to be done, but she said she might want a fire again. And then when she took sick, of course, I didn’t come anymore. She had a nurse here, you know. The pipe was pretty old last winter.”
“Well, now I don’t know anything about that, whether it was taken down or not. I never had anything to do with furnaces before. Suppose we go down and look at it?”
So they went down. She walked anxiously through the unknown precincts of her cellar and looked around curiously.
“It’s plumb gone,” said Ronald wisely, putting a stubby finger through the rust. “See there! You’ll have to get a new pipe.”
“Well, that ought to be attended to at once, and have it ready to set up when it gets near fall. It’s always good to be prepared for changing seasons. I wonder where I’ll get someone to fix it. Do you know a good man near here? Could you get me one and see that he does what ought to be done? Of course I’ll pay you for your trouble. Suppose we say your salary begins now, and then I’ll feel free to call on you for little things when I need them. We’ll settle a fair rate, and you can keep a record of the time it takes. I suppose there will be a lot of things like this before I really get settled here and down to living.”
“Aw gee, I’ll do that, of course. I’ll get Bennett, he’s a good man. He doesn’t charge as much as Simpson either. He’s a good friend of mine. But I don’t want pay for a little thing like that. That’s not work.”
“Oh yes it is, and I must insist that you have a salary or a regular price by the hour, or something, or I will not feel free to call you when I need you.”
The boy looked at her as if she were a new specimen.
“Okay,” he grinned, “have it your own way, only you don’t haveta pay me for things that aren’t work.”
“Yes,” said the lady. “I’m paying for taking the responsibility of little things that I don’t understand and might forget, don’t you see?”
“Okay, if you’re sure it’s all right,” he said doubtfully. And so it was arranged. But she marveled at this attitude. A sense of financial fairness was not what she had always been led to expect of a boy. Was it possible that there were other boys like him? As she thought about it, she vaguely recalled a sentence in that article on boys that had said something about their fineness of soul. Well, if it meant
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