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Page 40
Marjorie was somewhat inexperienced in the practical matters of
charity, and looked with surprise at the large quantity of
substantial viands.
"There is a large family of the Dunns," observed Grandma, "and
they're all blessed with healthy appetites. These things won't go
to waste."
"Are there children?" asked Marjorie.
"Yes, indeed, four of them. You must see how Mrs. Dunn is and find
out if she's badly hurt. Ask her what she wants especially, and
tell her I am coming this afternoon, and I'll carry it to her."
The girls trotted away with the well-filled baskets, and Grandma
Sherwood looked after them a little uncertainly, as she saw how
preoccupied they were in their own conversation, and remembered
how careless Marjorie was, and how prone to mischief.
"Thim scalawags'll be afther havin' a picnic wid thim baskets,"
prophesied Eliza, as she too watched the children's departure.
Grandma Sherwood laughed. "I hardly think they'll do that," she
said; "but they're liable to set down the baskets, and go hunting
for wild flowers or something, and never think of their errand
again."
But, on the contrary, the children were quite interested in their
mission.
"Your grandma is an awful good woman," observed Molly.
"Yes, she is," agreed Marjorie; "it's lovely of her to send all
these good things to poor people. It must be awful to be so poor
that you don't have enough to eat!"
"Yes, but it must be lovely when the baskets come in."
"But they don't always come in," said Marjorie.
"They must," declared Molly, with an air of conviction; "if they
didn't, the poor people would have nothing to eat, and then they
would die; and you know yourself, we never hear of anybody dying
of starvation around here."
"No; not around here, maybe. But in China they drop off by
millions, just from starvation."
"Well, they wouldn't if your grandmother was there. She'd send
baskets to every one of them."
"I believe she would," said Marjorie, laughing; "she'd manage it
somehow."
By this time they had reached the Dunns' domain. At least they had
come to a broken-down gate in a tumble-down fence, which Marjorie
knew was the portal of their destination. In their endeavors to
open the rickety gate the girls pushed it over, and nearly fell
over, themselves.
But carefully holding their baskets they climbed over the pile of
fallen pickets and followed the grass-grown path to the house.
And a forlorn enough house it was. Everything about it betokened
not only poverty but shiftlessness. Marjorie was not experienced
enough to know how often the former is the result of the latter,
and her heart was full of pity for people who must live in such
comfortless surroundings. The little old cottage was unpainted,
and the front porch was in such a dilapidated condition that one
step was entirely missing and several floor-boards were gone.
"It's like walking a tight-rope," said Marjorie, as she picked her
way carefully along what she hoped was a sound plank. "But it's
rather exciting. I wonder if we can get in."
There was no bell, and she tapped loudly on the door.
Almost instantly it was opened by a child whose appearance almost
made Marjorie scream out with laughter.
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