“And sugar!” came from one of the little girls.
“And tea! Mamma, just what you like!” said another.
“Where did this come from?” asked Mrs. Cullum.
“A friend,” answered Joe. “It’s all paid for.”
“I am very thankful.”
“Now we can have some bread, can’t we?” queried the boy.
“Yes, and a bit of smoked beef and cheese, too,” said the mother, and placing the sleeping baby on a bed, she proceeded to deal out the good things to her children.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE TIMID MR. GUSSING.
IT was not until the children had been satisfied and put to bed that Joe had a chance to talk to Mrs. Cullum. She was greatly astonished when she learned who he was.
“I didn’t expect this kindness,” said she. “I understand that my husband treated you shamefully.”
“It was the liquor made him do it ma’am,” answered our hero. “I think he’d be all right if he’d leave drink alone.”
“Yes, I am sure of it!” She gave a long sigh. “He was very kind and true when we were first married. But then he got to using liquor and–and–this is the result.”
“Perhaps he will turn over a new leaf when he comes out of jail.”
“I hope he does. If he doesn’t, I don’t know what I am going to do.”
“Have you anything to do?”
“I used to wash for two families in town but they have regular hired help now.”
“Perhaps you can get more work, if you advertise. If you’ll allow me, I’ll put an advertisement in the Riverside News for you.”
“Thank you. I don’t see what makes you so kind.”
“Well, I have been down in the world myself, Mrs. Cullum, so I know how to feel for others.”
“Did you say you used to live with Bodley, the hermit?”
“Yes.”
“My folks used to know him. He was rather a strange man after he got shot by accident.”
“Yes, but he was kind.”
“Are you his son?”
“No. He said I was his nephew. But I never found out much about that.”
“Oh, yes, I remember something about that. He had a brother who lost his wife and several children. Are you that man’s son?”
“I believe I am.”
“And you have never heard from your father?”
“Not a word.”
“That is hard on you.”
“I am going to look for my father some day.”
“If so, I hope you will find him.”
“So do I.” Joe arose. “I must be going.” He paused. “Mrs. Cullum, will you let me help you?” he added, earnestly.
“Why, you have helped me a good deal already. Not one in a thousand would do what you have done–after the way my husband treated you.”
“I thought that you might be short of money.”
“I must confess I am.”
“I am not rich but, if you can use it, I can let you have five dollars.”
“I’ll accept it as a loan. I don’t want you to give me the money,” answered the poor woman. She thought of the things she absolutely needed, now that her husband was gone.
The money was handed over, and a few minutes later Joe took his departure. Somehow his heart felt very light because of his generosity. He had certainly played the part of a friend in need.
But he did not stop there. Early in the morning he sought out Andrew Mallison and told the hotel proprietor of Mrs. Cullum’s condition.
“I was thinking that you might be able to give her work in the hotel laundry,” he continued.
The hotel man called up the housekeeper and from her learned that another woman could be used to iron.
“You can let her come and we’ll give her a trial,” said he.
It did not take Joe long to communicate with the poor woman, and she was overjoyed to see work in sight, without waiting for an advertisement in the newspaper.
“I’ll go at once,” said she. “I’ll get a neighbor’s girl to mind the children.” And she was as good as her word. As it happened, she proved to be a good laundress, and Mr. Mallison gave her steady employment until her husband came from jail. Then, much to his wife’s satisfaction, Sam Cullum turned over a new leaf and became quite sober and industrious.