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grace, she still was waiting for all five of us in the pharmacy while Ma and Pa chatted with their hill friends. Our Jane ran to our teacher with wide-open arms, hurling herself at Miss Deale's pretty blue skirt. "Here I am!" she cried out in delight. "Ready for ice
cream!"
"That's not nice, Our Jane," I immediately corrected. "You should wait and allow Miss Deale to
offer you ice cream."
Our Jane pouted, and so did Fanny, both with
wide, pleading eyes fixed doglike on our teacher. "It's
all right, Heaven, really," Miss Deale said, smiling.
"Why do you think I come here? I like ice-cream
cones, too, and hate to eat one all alone. . . so, come,
tell me which flavors you want this week."
It was easy to see Miss Deale pitied us, and
wanted to give us treats, at least on Sundays. In a way
it wasn't fair, to her or to us, for we were so damned
needing of treats, but we also needed to have pride in
ourselves. Time after time pride went down in defeat
when it came to choosing between chocolate, vanilla,
or strawberry. Lord knows how long it would have
taken us if there had been more flavors.
Easily Tom could say he wanted vanilla; easily
I could say chocolate; but Fanny wanted strawberry,
chocolate, and vanilla, and Keith wanted what Our Jane was having, and Our Jane couldn't make up her mind. She looked at the man behind the soda fountain, stared wistfully at the huge jars of penny candy, eyed a boy and a girl sitting down to enjoy an ice-cream soda, and hesitated. "Look at her," whispered Fanny; "kin't make up her mind cause she wants it all. Miss Deale, don't give it all t'her--unless ya give it all to
us, too."
"Why, of course I'll give Our Jane anything she
wants, all three flavors if she can manage a triple
cone, and a chocolate candy bar for later, and a bag of
candy for all of you to take home. Is there anything
else you'd like?"
Fanny opened her mouth wide, as if to blab out
all we wanted and needed. I quickly intervened. "You
do too much already, Miss Deale. Give Our Jane her
