Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch

								

The woman stepped forward, and put out a hand to steady herself
against the door; her face was distorted, and her voice came in
gasps.
"You said I was to come if I needed you. It's Jimmy, ma'am--he's
dead!"
IT may be experience of suffering makes one especially tender to the
heart-aches of others; at any rate, the article that Lucy Olcott
wrote for the paper that night held the one touch of nature that
makes the whole world kin. She had taken Aunt Chloe, the old colored
servant, and gone home with Mrs. Wiggs, relieving as far as possible
the immediate need of the family. Then she had come home and written
their story, telling it simply, but with the passionate earnestness
of one who, for the first time, has come into contact with poverty
and starvation. She told of the plucky struggle made by the boy, of
his indomitable courage, of his final defeat, and she ended by
asking help of any kind for the destitute family.
A week later she sat at her desk bewildered. Her article, written on
the impulse of the moment, with the one thought of making people
understand, had fulfilled its mission. For seven days she had done
nothing but answer questions and notes, and receive contributions
for the Wiggs family. Money had arrived from all over the State, and
from every class of society. Eichenstine Bros. sent fifty dollars,
and six ragged newsboys came to present thirty cents. A lavender
note, with huge monogram and written in white ink, stated that some
of the girls of the "Gay Burlesque Troupe" sent a few dimes to the
"kid's" mother. The few dimes amounted to fifteen dollars. Mrs. Van
Larkin's coachman had to wait with her note while Lucy answered the
questions of a lame old negro who had brought a quarter.
"Maria done tole me what was writ in de papah 'bout dat pore Chile,"
he was saying. "I sutenly do feel sorry fer he's maw. I ain't got
much, but I tole Maria I guess we could do without somethin' to gib
a quahter."
So it continued. Old and young, rich and poor, paid their
substantial tribute of respect to Jimmy Wiggs.
Lucy counted up the long line of figures. "Three hundred and
sixty-five dollars!" she exclaimed; "and food, clothes, and coal
enough to last them a year!"
It was like a direct answer to her prayer, and yet this poor little
suppliant, instead of being duly exalted, put her head on the desk
and wept bitterly. Now that the need of the Wiggs family had been
met, another appeal, silent and potent, was troubling her heart.
Redding had neither come nor written, and she was beginning to
realize the seriousness of their misunderstanding.

CHAPTER IV
THE ANNEXATION OF CUBY



    "They well deserve to have,

    That know the strongest and surest way to get."
ALMOST a year rolled over the Cabbage Patch, and it was nearing
Christmas again. The void left in Mrs. Wiggs's heart by Jim's death
could never be filled, but time was beginning to soften her grief,