Mary Rose of Mifflin | Page 8

a princess there? A beautiful
princess?" she begged.
The man colored under the tan the sun and wind had spread over his
face. "There is," he admitted, "a most beautiful princess."
"And a witch?" insisted Mary Rose. "A wicked witch?" The color flew
into her face also.
"The wickedest witch that could ever enslave a beautiful princess. Her
darned old name is Independence!"

Mary Rose did not understand and she thought it was an odd name for a
witch but she wished to know more. "And is the prince there?" she
demanded thirstily.
The man's face turned redder than before. "The prince is here," he said
sadly. "Right here. And he might as well be in Jericho," he added under
his breath.
"I've heard the Presbyterian minister speak of Jericho but I never read
of it in any fairy-tale. Oh, dear! I hope the prince won't go there. I want
him to stay here and rescue the pretty princess from that wicked witch
In-independence," she stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
The man looked at her. He had to look away down to find her, for he
was tall, over six feet, and Mary Rose was not much more than half that,
but when he finally did find her Mary Rose was amazed to see the look
of determination that came into his sunburned face.
"He'll do it," he said, half under his breath. "It's all very well for a girl
to be independent, but she needn't be so darned independent that she
won't listen to a word a man says."
"I don't think I understand," Mary Rose ventured to say when there was
a long pause.
Her new friend laughed. "No, of course, you don't." He put his hands
on her shoulders. "As man to man," he said, "the modern girl is getting
to be almost too much of a problem for the modern man. I don't
suppose you understand that, either. But wait ten or fifteen years and
you will. Godfrey! I feel sorry for you. If they keep on as they've
started what will they be in ten years? Did you say you were living over
there?" He looked toward the white wall.
Mary Rose nodded her yellow head. "I thought perhaps you might like
to take a cat to board. An orphan cat," she explained pityingly.
Jerry Longworthy swallowed a laugh when he saw that there was real
trouble in her face. "Suppose you climb into the car and tell me why

you're looking for a boarding place for an orphan cat?"
Mary Rose smiled radiantly as she obeyed and, with George
Washington cuddled against her, she told him all about it.
"My Uncle Larry," she began very importantly, "is the janitor of that
wonderful two-faced palace."
"Is he, indeed," remarked Jerry Longworthy, lighting his pipe.
"But he doesn't own it. At first I thought he did. I used to live in Mifflin,
where there aren't any houses like that. Every family has its own house.
Some of them are little but Mrs. Black's is as big as yours. She brought
me to Waloo and we had a taxicab all the way."
"All the way!" Mr. Jerry showed a proper amount of astonishment.
"That was a treat."
"It was to me," simply. "There aren't any taxicabs in Mifflin, just one
old hack that was made before the war, Mr. Day said, and that's a very
long time ago."
"It is," agreed Mr. Jerry. "Longer than either you or I can remember. I
expect you are all of ten years old?"
"I'm older than that." She would have told him how much older but she
remembered what Aunt Kate had said. "I'm going on fourteen." It
sounded so aged that she felt quite important. "And my name is Mary
Rose Crocker."
"Mary Rose?" He lifted his eyebrows, and Mary Rose knew at once
that he was thinking that boys' clothes and girls' names do not usually
go together. She flushed.
"I wear them to save washing," she said with a certain dignity as she
touched the shrunken knickerbockers. "Girls' clothes are a lot of trouble.
Lena said they weren't worth it."
"I'm sure she's right. You're only a little ahead of the style. All girls'll

be wearing them soon, no doubt. They're that independent. How old is
the orphan George?" He changed a subject that was evidently so
painful to Mary Rose.
"He's 'most five. I got him when I had tonsilitis, when I was six,"
unconsciously betraying to anyone who could add five to six the secret
Aunt Kate had begged her to keep. "And we've never been separated a
whole day. But now," she swallowed the lump in her throat and went
on bravely, "you see the owner of that palace won't have any children
nor any dogs nor