Growing Up (Vorse)/Chapter 44
SARA itched for this precious possession of Robert's; she fanned this flame of her curiosity. Alice observed that by a certain expression on his face he made Sara realize that he was thinking of the mysterious and fascinatingly evil thing that he had bought. When she saw Sara jumping up and down, full of impatience and curiosity, and asked Robert what was the matter, and he replied,
"Oh, just thinking," what could a mother then do? After all, your jurisdiction has to stop at their thoughts. So a strained relation grew between Robert and Sara as the month of their stay drew to a close. Indeed, so strained was it that Sara savagely collected mounds and mounds of seaside things, and taunted Robert by saying,
"I am going to take mine home with me. Mother won't let you take yours because you snooked your blocks in the trunks," and so firm was her idea that these treasures must return with her that Alice contemplated the return packing with dread.
One evening, shortly before they departed, Sara was not to be found. She was not at the Jennings', and Robert, sent to find her, reported her as not at the Tobeys'. They called, but there was no answer to any cry of "Sara!" She had vanished, it seemed, from the face of the earth. Dusk crept on, while anger and anxiety grew in her parents' breasts. Finally Robert came back announcing, "I've found her."
"Where is she?" demanded Alice.
"Under the piazza," answered Robert.
"Under the piazza!" Alice replied. "How did she get there?"
"Oh, we've got a way," Robert answered. "There was a lattice loose and we sneaked in."
"What ails the child; hasn't she heard us calling? Tell her to come right out."
"She says she's never coming out any more," Robert reported.
"Sara!" Alice called through the lattice, "Sara, come out!"
No answer but a sniffle.
"Sara, what is the matter?"
Again no answer.
"Sara, mind your mother."
Still silence. Robert wriggled through the hole. Through the lattice he reported:
"She won't come out because she's ashamed." More conferences with Sara. "She's ashamed because she's been sent home. Mis' Tobey sent her home."
"Mrs. Tobey sent her home?" cried Alice. "Mrs. Tobey sent Sara home!" Many a time she had longed to send home Tobey children. "And why," she cried, anger rising in her, "and why pray, should Mrs. Tobey send home poor little Sara?"
Another long conference with Sara then Robert's shocked voice hissed through the lattice: "She was sent home for teaching The Swear to Stuffy."
"But how did Sara get The Swear?"
"Not from me, not from me!" cried Robert. "She got The Swear off Ted Jennings! You told her not to buy it off him. Well, she didn't! She just got 'round him, she just argued to him, and he told her it to get rid of her: she says so herself. He told it to her to keep her from tagging, for the fellers was making fun of him because she tagged after him so—and then she went off and sold it to Stuffy, and she's got five cents right now, and Mis' Tobey heard her, and of course she sent her home!"
Now a woman of character will always turn disaster to some advantage, and while Alice called to her child in a tone that left no place for disobedience, "Come right out from under the house, Sara"; when her daughter was again visible, "That settles it," said she, "not a single shell or stone or anything shall you take home with you." And she added, "You will have to leave Evelyn Dearie behind!"
The children in bed, Alice sat on the piazza, reflecting for the thousandth time how easy it would be to bring up one's children in solitude, when a voice from the neighboring cottage smote her ears, a rich throaty voice, a voice that carried.
"If it wasn't for other folks' children!" it said. "Now that Mis' Marcey, she's a reel nice woman, but, law! her Sara, terrible cunning but, oh, such a limb! I don't think my children's better'n other children, but there's just one thing, they do use good language, there's not one o' my boy's ever been profane—and now this little Sara Marcey, she comes and teaches my Stuffy cursin'—I caught her at it! Only six years old and she learned him this" Only a sibilant whisper informed Alice what it was Sara had taught Stuffy. There was silence, broken only by the flap of palmleaf fans, and then to Alice's ears came these words:
"I don't say but what I'll be real glad when them Marcey children go!"