"Not me!" said Mrs. Snawdor. "I been fightin' the country all my life.
It's bad enough bein' dirt pore, without goin' an' settin' down among the
stumps where there ain't nothin' to take yer mind off it."
So whatever reforms Nance contemplated had to be carried out slowly and
with great tact. Mrs. Snawdor, having put forth one supreme effort to
make the flat sufficiently decent to warrant Nance's return, proposed for
the remainder of her life to rest on her laurels. As for the children,
they had grown old enough to have decided opinions of their own, and when
Nance threw the weight of her influence on the side of order and
cleanliness, she was regarded as a traitor in the camp. It was only Mr.
Snawdor who sought to uphold her, and Mr. Snawdor was but a broken reed.
Meanwhile the all-important question of getting work was under
discussion. Miss Stanley had made several tentative suggestions, but none
of them met with Mrs. Snawdor's approval.
"No, I ain't goin' to let you work out in private families!" she
declared indignantly. "She's got her cheek to ast it! Did you tell her
yer pa was a Molloy? An' Mr. Burks says yer maw was even better born than
what Bud was. I'm goin' to git you a job myself. I'm goin' to take you up
to Clarke's this very evenin'."
"I don't want to work in a factory!" Nance said discontentedly, looking
out of the window into the dirty court below.
"I suppose you want to run a beauty parlor," said Mrs. Snawdor, with
scornful reference to Nance's improved appearance.
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