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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"

It
shone upon threadbare carpets and painted floors; upon sofas the
upholstering of which had an unmistakable air of having been experimented
with; and chairs which Mrs. Farrell had recaned, having learned the art
from a blind boy who lived opposite. Yet the sunlight revealed as well
an air of thrift and cheeriness; for the widow, despite her days of
discouragement, aimed to train her children to look upon the bright side
of life, and to trust in Providence.
"Bernard," said she one evening, "I have been thinking that if I could
hire a sewing-machine I might get piecework from the shops, and earn more
than by looking to chance patronage. I have a mind to inquire about one."
The boy was silent. She began to doubt if he had heard, and was about to
repeat the remark when he answered:
"No, mother, don't. There are too many women doing that kind of sewing
at starvation prices. But I'll tell you what would be a fine thing if
you really had the time for it, though I do not see how you could,--it
seems to me we keep you busy."
"What is your idea?" inquired Mrs. Farrell eagerly, paying no heed to the
latter part of his speech.


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