She
had come to the conclusion that grown-up persons were always in a
frantic state about money, and she had no desire to join these anxious
ones herself. As she could not mend matters, she did not see why she
should worry about them.
Tom had a scrap of dinner and then ran off to see Aunt Church. He found
the old lady sitting at her parlor window looking out as usual for him.
She was dressed in rusty black; she had a front of stiff curls on her
forehead, a white widow's-cap over it, and a small black crape
handkerchief crossed on her breast. Mrs. Church was a little woman; she
had very tiny feet and hands, and was very proud of them. She never
thought of buying any new clothes, and her black bombazine dress was
more brown than black now; so was her shawl, and so was the handkerchief
which she wore round her neck. Her cap was tied with ribbons which had
been washed so often that they were no longer white, but yellow.
She came to the door to greet Tom when he arrived, and called him in.
"Ah, Tom!" she said, "I have got a piece of plumcake waiting for you;
and if you are a really good boy, and will shoo the fowls into my
backyard and shut the gate on them, you may look into my microscope."
"Thank you, Aunt Church," said Tom. "Shall I go at once and shoo the
fowls?"
"You had best give me my money first. Here is the box; you drop it in:
two pounds in gold--I hope to goodness your mother has sent the money in
gold--two pounds in gold and the rest in silver.
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