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Cooke, Grace MacGowan, 1863-1944

"The Power and the Glory"

It was evident that
sight of the child lingering increased Pap's anger, yet the elder sister
gathered up the ailing little one in her strong arms and tried again.
"Pap, I'll pay you for Deanie's whole week's work if you'll just let her
stay home to-night. I'll pay you the money now."
"All right," Pap stuck out a ready, stubbed palm, and received in it the
silver that was the price of the little girl's time for a week. He
counted it over before he rammed it down in his pocket. Then, "You can
pay me, and she can go to the mill, 'caze your wages ought to come to me
anyhow, and it don't do chaps like her no good to be muchin' 'em all the
time. Would you ruther have her go before I give her a good beatin' or
after?" and he looked Johnnie fiercely in the eyes.
Johnnie looked back at him unflinching. She did not lack spirit to defy
him. But her mother was this man's wife; the children were in their
hands. Devoted, high-couraged as she was, she saw no way here to fight
for the little ones. To her mother she could not appeal; she must have
support from outside.
"Never you mind, honey," she choked as she clasped Deanie's thin little
form closer, and the meagre small arms went round her neck. "Sister'll
find a way. You go on to the mill to-night, and sister'll find somebody
to help her, and she'll come there and get you before morning.


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