Chapter II: Part 2

Dolly was taken with another idea so big it made her most crazy--that was to put the pretty clothes on the orfuns’ backs to keep. She asked me how many orfuns and I answered I believed the orfuns to be about the same thickness of Eggsloosifs and she declared one girl must dress one orfun perhaps not new but good and pretty.

All got excited and forgot teachers and the Principal opened the door in a keemono. Dolly disappeared under the blanket but her head was wrong way round to her feet on the pillow.

The Principal went to look haughty but her eyes laughed and the girls begged her in which she came and they told her all. She said we might make Christmas for orfuns and econymze by no deserts for orfun turkey but now to bed and not catch our deathycolds which all so done very happy.

It is my turn to practice scales on the piano so I will say goodbye, darling bennyfit Mother of me.

Giovanna.

* * * * *

_Angel Christmas present Mother_,--

We have so much orfun business in this school we almost cannot do our practice and lessons. The girls all secured easy the dresses but now have much trouble to find the right orfun which fits in the dress. All Saturdays go committys of Eggsloosifs to the sylum for measuring orfuns but just with their guess not to spoil the surprise.

Dolly begged her dress off an Aunt with a little girl cousin. It is navy blue silk deckrated with ruffles so her orfun must be 7 like the dress. She picked out a whole named Lizzie to fit it fine so that is not her grief and woe but it comes of asking Lizzie what she wants for presents and Lizzie begged “O please a Mama and a Papa.” Dolly has that kind of heart to promise first and then wonder if she can so now she’s got to anyway and it puts her most crazy. If Lizzie could just be the pretty kind but her compleckshun is pale trimmed with freckles and her teeth are some gone and not grown in yet. Her hair is red pigtales. Her nose skwints up a little but not enough to notice much and she has a good blue eye and a feckshunate dishpishin. Dolly names her hair tisshen but the Eggsloosifs laugh and say no, plain carrots. They all times advise Dolly to raffel her off at the tree with tickets but my noble chum will ever answer “Heethen creatures! raffel off your own orfuns if you want to but my Lizzie never do I raffel! I will find her sootybell parents or adopt her myself.”

It’s a tight secret only Dolly lets me tell just you she’s got the parents of Lizzie all picked but they don’t know it yet and Dolly has awful scares to imagine how they will act when the news gets broke on them. It is an Aunt and Uncle not the one she begged the dress off of but another named Winnyfred and John with no child and rich like anything. Dolly makes little tacks on their hearts like to say “What is home without an orfun?” But her Uncle will ever answer “When orfun comes in at the door piece flies out of the window” which is a mistake for Lizzie is not the kind to break the window like Dolly’s Uncle thinks.

This does not discourage my poet chum. She has a skeem to fix all Christmas night at the tree. The Eggsloosifs will invite their relayshuns and the halfs their whichever they got lefts and the maytrun will company the wholes. Dolly says anybody must give thanks for presents and never look like it is not the best thing they want in the big world so she will give Lizzie to her Aunt and Uncle for a present and them to Lizzie for a present and all live happy ever after and three off her list. I tell Dolly a present can be no fair like a lady in our tennyment O awful poor and a daygo organist made a present to her little boy of a sick monkey that must all days eat cream and bannannas. Dolly says the cases are different but she will ask the Principal so I may be satisfied.

Mother I had to choose the orfun of big mouth and little sense because nobody else could like her looks and ways but I know what feels you have to be that kind no person wants. She is most my size and will fit in my plain brown rainy dress or my red silk. The Principal says in chapel “mind your conshents” so I asked mine which dress? One conshent says “Shame Giovanna selfish pig girl, think how that orfun put her finger to that red silk dress at the sylum the day it was bought and said ‘pretty pretty’ and now with that dress on her she will be happy up to the sky and believe she is an angel.” And then another conshent will speak “Ungrateful one to give away the so beautiful dress of red whistling silk the first bought you by your darling Bennyfactor Mother that whistles all the time of her! What can it whistle to that orfun of big mouth and little sense?” Now Mother what do I make with those conshents? Our letters must go far so it will be done before I get your advice to tell what conshent I shall mind.

O if you could visit me that would be my Christmas present of the whole world but you say that cannot happen. I will try and not make too much sadness to myself for that because when I am your daughter every day is Christmas for my thinks of you.

Giovanna.

* * * * *

_Mother of my Christmas heart_,--

There stays just your me tonight in this school of many girls. All the Eggsloosifs sellybrate Christmas Eve at home except her that lives far in the geography and she went to Dolly’s tree not to notice homesick aches in her soul like she got simptums.

Dolly invited me so hard she most got mad on me not to go but I never could for lonesome. Here I have no lonesome but glad instead because you said in your preciousest letter of all that this Eve I could know you were writing to me. Last Christmas I was mixed with many orfuns but felt like sollytude. This Christmas I got such company as nobody ever had that together we write to each other. Last Christmas at the sylum I received a work basket with two spools and thimbel but no surprise for they were all on the maytrun’s bed when I swept her room and no names just any basket to whatever orfun. The maytrun named me ungrateful to cry but Mother how could Christmas be glad when my surprise was lost?

I usto not think so much of Santa Claus as some to treat richness all times better than poorness but I learned off a kid on our doorstep at the tennyment that there isn’t any. So its no fair to blame a person who never was anybody and I believe a really truly Santa Claus would act like his photograf looks and not forget the stockings of poorness--

The _s_ of poorness has the long tale because in that minute the maid knocked with a bundle for me. This is my thoughts to open that box. O! O! O! O! O! O! O! To think you put in prettys for me to give to all the names in my letters. Dolly will jump and dance at the nugget buckle. Luigi will put a smile on him like anything to see the yellow pipe. O Mother never before in my long life did I give a present to any person. For somebody to look on me with present looks that will be my all new joy with this first Christmas to be your daughter.

In the boxes corner stayed a little package in tisshoe paper tied with red ribbon. O the teeny gold watch with G on it in pearls and a pearl pin to fasten it on top of my heart! O Mother it never can be me that usto be orfun Giovanna to own that watch! It must be a fairy dream and I will wake up in the sylum to say “What a dream I dreamed!” Always your presents talk to me of you or look at me with your looks but this watch speaks most of all not to stop in day or night or get tired. I say to it “Little angel watch she is the Mother of my--” And that watch so smart ticks back “heart, heart, heart, heart.” No other watch could be smart like this of pearly G and teeny golden hands.

O but it makes me feel twice as dreadful about your Christmas present you won’t get from me for an awful long time like next summer. If you are thinking this minute I forgot your present that is not the true but despare and most wear out my brains that is the true and now what looks like no gift.

I was going to buy you a pretty with the money you sent for a swetter but the Principal said in chapel to take the money of your parents to buy them gifts what love in that? Give them what costs you effort and self denial. And she talked more to say never give debty presents just because you owe them or hopeful presents to get one back. Dolly raised her hand and asked “What if somebody needs a present which they don’t want?” The girls giggled to guess she meant Lizzie. The Principal replied “Decide that yourself with love and tact. Young ladies you are dismissed to your classrooms.”

Dolly says love and tact and the Principal and a quarter which fell heads up are all on her side to give Lizzie to her Uncle and Aunt at the tree. She made a poem for her parents out of her own poetry but I cannot poet for you Mother because it must fall on one out of the sky or its no good. A musical girl dedycated her parents many staffs full of tunes but I could only make you some scales what are notes upstairs and downstairs and that would be no present. A very smart girl in lessons was to give her prize if earned which made me worse despare for many girls shorter in their skirts are longer than me in their grades which must put shame on you and the prize for spelling is past my hope so how could I think to earn a prize except for stupid and faults?

Friday was the last day of this school turn, and the Principal gave out the prizes with many cheers from all and her of smartness earned the one for grammar which was a poetry book. At last the Principal said there was one more prize to decide by vote of all the girls which pupil had got most better in manners by trying hard. O Mother that prize was given to me and not by fair because no other girl here was ever orfun so I had the head start in backness. I was so scared I almost could not hold out my hand and to walk back to my seat I did not know where it stood with the Eggsloosifs to clap clap their hands so much. By and by when I opened the package the Principal asked me why I look so disapointed. I answered “It is very beautiful and never did I earn it but what can my Mother make with a Girl’s Memory Book of School for a Christmas present?” She explained that if I wrote it full of memorys for you Mother it would be a piece of real daughter present same as Dolly’s and the musical girl’s and her of smartness. But it is my grief and woe you will not get it in time for Christmas because I cannot write in it memorys that are not to happen yet but must wait till they happen.

I have decided to give away my red silk dress because my Christmas conshent says “Giovanna you got such lots and that orfun so little.” O my little darling watch! It now ticks “You got to stop, you got to stop” because the electric will be off in one minute and so goodnight Darling Mother from little watch and me.

Giovanna.

* * * * *

_Mother of my Merry Christmas Heart_,--

The candles are just blown out on the orfun tree and I took a pink one not much burnt to put in the teeny silver candlestick Dolly gave me so I can write to you after electric is off. I believe this candle likes to burn itself up for that because it waves round its little flame as if to speak “Giovanna remember me to your Mother.”

The Eggsloosifs all rushed back today quick as possible after their deserts to dress themselves orfun style. Such laughs never were heard in the real kind. Then came the jenuine orfuns and O the looks on them to behold the immitashun orfuns! That orfun which usto make tall her pompydoor with the maps out of her geography said if she had known she was invited just to other sylum she never woulda come.

The Eggsloosifs took each one her orfun to her room and dressed her all sweet and pretty and stylish like a girl of richness with two parents. One orfun said to her Eggsloosif “I thank you but keep this dress to your own self because you look worse poor than me.” And the father of that Eggsloosif is a 1000000air.

Mine which was her of big mouth and little sense all times touched the red silk with her finger and repeated “My red dress, my red dress” like my watch ticks and I was glad to see her love it that hard.

Dolly’s Lizzie turned not pretty but so Dolly named her quaint and said that was more distinggay. Lizzie asked “Will my new Mama like me better in this dress?” And Dolly kissed her and pinned a card on her “Merry Christmas to dear Aunt Winnyfred and Uncle John from Dolly.” But Lizzie never saw Dolly wring her hands to me on the quiet to show what scares she got on herself.

Mother when all was finished the orfuns made immitashun Eggsloosifs like the Eggsloosifs made immitashun orfuns--I guess because the Eggsloosifs in dress of poorness acted like fixed grand for a party and the orfuns could not forget so quick their scroocht down feelings even in dress of richness.

Next was the turkey dinner with the orfuns in the chairs and the Eggsloosifs to act like maids. All their swallows could work fine and they were very satisfied except Lizzie teased to sit between her Mama and Papa but Dolly told her they were not yet come.

After turkey dinner all went to the big hall of the Christmas tree and there stayed the parents and relayshuns and whichevers. Dolly looked so pityfull for her feelings on Lizzie a kind old man thought she was a jenuine and tried to give her a dollar in her hand but she explaned no thank you.

The janitor played he was Santa Claus and passed the presents and O the joy and surprise of those orfuns most paralized them. I gave mine a doll because her sense is younger than she is and it seemed as if she couldn’t hug it enough and I was glad.

But poor little Lizzie looked like weeps and said to Dolly “Where is my Mama and Papa like you promised?” My chum led her pretty near to her Uncle and Aunt where they sat and whispered to Lizzie which they were and ran to hide behind the tree. Lizzie stept close and close till Uncle John said “Whose little girl are you?” and she answered “I am yours, Papa,” and the surprise that Uncle had on him was wonderful. Aunt Winnyfred spoke “What nonsents! Run to your Mama, child,” but she answered “You are my Mama.”

Uncle John looked on her card and exclaimed “O that Dolly!” Aunt Winnyfred explaned to Lizzie how she did not want a little girl and all was mistake.

Lizzie got that kind of disapoint which hurts so bad you don’t cry the first minute and they thought she was satisfied but she fell herself down on the floor and her grief and woe were dreadful and she all times talked in her cry “O my Papa don’t want me! O my Mama don’t want me!”

Dolly ran to comfort her but she would take no comfort. Aunt Winnyfred stood up and spoke, “Let us go! this is very painful! Dolly you must be punished!” But Uncle John answered “Why not take her along and look her over? Anyway she said first she was mine.” Aunt Winnyfred talked back “Just because you sat on that side so she came first to you.” So Uncle John carried her but Aunt Winnyfred held her hand.

The little candle is most gone and so is my first merry Christmas but I got plenty of merryness this time to catch up on all I missed before.

O Mother what a long chain you started by your goodness to me. The Eggsloosifs tied some more to that chain by this wonderful surprise on the sylum; Aunt Winnyfred and Uncle John made another piece to adopt Lizzie. And I never did a thing to make it longer but perhaps I can some day. That is my wish.

I have just one more minute to say Merry Christmas so with that I will stop my letter. Merry Christmas, Mother! Merry Christmas, Isabella! Merry Christmas, orfuns! Merry Christmas, Eggsloosifs! Merry Christmas, all the people in the big world! Merry Christmas, dear God up in heaven!

Giovanna.

GIOVANNA’S ITALIAN RENAISSANCE

_Mother of my Italian heart_,--

Such wonderful bran news I got today for you and me to be glad about--the teacher spoke it right out to all the class of geography. She said that Dago is just the disrespeckfull for Italian and she names Italians grand and wonderful with songs in their throats and pictures in their eyes and hands to make statyous. And Mr. Columbus who discovered America was a Dago! So Americans needn’t feel set up over us because where would they be this minute if he never had? Besides they are all named after Mr. Amerigo, another Italian man who put them first on any map or they must have got omitted out of the geography and then think how mortifide they would have felt!

So Mother, it is not mean for me to be Dago and need not put shame on you as I always supposed it must indeed. It was my guess to myself you had hopes to erase all my Dago part in this school except my looks which are very brunetty and no powder can help that because I tried and it showed on top of my brownness like chalk on the blackboard and the Principal said “Giovanna, go wash your face; I did not believe you were that silly kind of girl.” So I cried and washed hard and threw away that powder box awful quick but explained not to the Principal because it would have been like telling a secret of yours and mine, Mother, to explain and I never did. Now you don’t need powder to stay on me any more.

O Mother, my proudness is up to the top of the highest mountain in the red atlas! I wish I could go and tell all the folks in our tenement that they are no more Ginneys but very grand and respecktable Italians and must have no shame on themselves for that but all glad and hawty.

I had thoughts of asking you to change my name to Jane but now I rejoyce to be

Your Italian daughter,
Giovanna.

* * * * *

_Mother of my Dago heart_,--

There was a reception in this school today very grand from three to five. O the surprise that happened on me right in the middle of this reception! If I gave you 1,000,000 guesses and 3 more you could not tell who came and not invited, for how could I think to invite rellytives never seen in my long life and most forgotten and also believed by me to stay in Italy shaped like a rubber boot and washed by many seas?

I was sitting some behind a screen and the music talked of you and my love as I never can write in my letters because it would take words I do not know. I wore my new pink silk which is that kind to try to stick to my fingers as if it says it likes to be my dress and the best beautiful sign of your love.

Dolly came and pulled me by the hand to the window quick as we could go for the many ladies not to step our feet on their elegant trains. There stayed Luigi on his wagon full of oranges and bananas. An Italian woman sat by him not his wife for I know her looks and a girl about my bigness. Down in front of the seat was a boy not so big and another girl not so big as the boy and another girl with curls not so big as that girl and a baby in the Italian woman’s lap which she gave Luigi to hold while she clum out and pulled down all the rest except the boy who jumped himself off and stufft two bananas in his shirt not seen by Luigi. Then Luigi pointed with his whip to the door of our school and drove away very quick like he still had scares on that teacher.

Wrinkeldy and poor was the Italian lady with a little square shawl on her head. The girl of my bigness was dressed pretty but curyous. Her black velvet corset was on top of her white waist. She wore a red skirt and an apron crost by many stripes. The toes of all the littler ones looked out of their shoes and no wraps on their thinness. I had a big sorry for them in my heart.

Then Dolly was called by her Mother to play a piece on the piano for some person in the music room.

Very soon that family off Luigi’s wagon stood in our hall and all stared at them like they were brickyards and not people. I had no dream who they could be, but Dago must ever go to Dago so I went.

When I walked close to her of the wrinkeldy face and little shawl, she screecht “Giovanna! Mia cara! Mia cara!” and hugged me long long in her arms and many times kissed my cheeks and hugged me more and more and tears ran down in her wrinkles.

I let her hug and kiss me, Mother, but I shook and shook and wished not to be so much kissed with all to stare and stare as they done. Nobody hugs like that in receptions which are not any good form place for jenuine feelings like hers but just touch your fingers and talk politeness. The feelings that Italian lady had on me were terrible and I could not understand what for with this the first time I ever walked in her sight.

By and by she calmed off a teeny bit and held my face with her hands and looked and looked and said she was my Aunt Maddalena.

I was embearest dreadful and sorry to make her such dizzypoint but I begged her please excuse me not to be her niece and her not to be my Aunt Maddalena.

The girl of my bigness had eyes black and looks proud like anything. She spoke American but slow and funny and full of try as if her tongue could just walk and not run.

“Why notta your Aunt?”

I answered “It is the true that my Mama who died had a sister named Maddalena and she usto tell me how they cried and hugged much when my Mama started for America in the big ship, but this lady never can be my Aunt.”

That girl asked again, “Why notta your Aunt?”

I explained just like my Mama that died usto tell me plenty of times. “My Aunt Maddalena is so beautiful in looks that artiss men make her picture with many paints. Nobody in her village can dance the tarantella like my Aunt Maddalena; any person will travel a mile and be glad to see the steps of her teeny feet. She wrote a letter how she marrys my Uncle Nicolo who sings long songs and walks on the grapes to make them wine. By and by she wrote another letter that she has a baby girl, cousin to me named Concetta. Then no more letters or else lost. Now you understand why this Italian lady is all mistake and no Aunt.”

That girl spoke again awful proud.

“Little fool! Can she no getta old? When young she was moddle for artiss men and this dress I wear now is her moddle dress because my dress gotta the holes. Your Uncle Nicolo no come today, he hunts the work. You think that baby girl Concetta no getta big never? I am Concetta and this is your Aunt Maddalena.”

Then I believed she spoke the true and I was more embearest like I would die with all my thinks tip side up and no chance to get them fixed. My voice came out of me little and funny.

“I am very pleased to meet you.”

“Notta so!” said Concetta awfuller proud. “You no wanta us! One year in America we look look ask ask for you. Now I wish we never hadda found you! You gotta the shame of us and I hate you!”

I did not answer that Concetta but I led them to chairs which were very quick plenty when they walked near. It is the rule not to just have your own talk with your rellytives at a reception but you must make presents to them of your schoolmates. I did not mind that rule, Mother because of the feelings I had for the Exclusives to look on my cousins so wretcheddy and my Aunt Maddalena all poor and wrinkled up. I was trying to swallow down my cry when our dear Principal came and saylooted my rellytives fine and polite as if they were the best in elegant trains instead of short in the skirts and big in the shoes as my Aunt, only Concetta hid her hands under her apron crost by many stripes. What sort of manners was that?

The boy begged me, “Swipe a feller some cake. Say, do you guys have ice cream?” I made the start to get him some but Concetta said, “Notta swipe--better he starve first,” so I sat still and swiped not.

I wanted to make good from talk with my rellytives but it was skarce in me. Pretty soon Concetta said to her Mother in Italian that no longer must they put shame on Giovanna with her grand friends so they went and fine riddants to that Concetta.

O Mother, what is the good to call Italians grand and wonderful and then all to stare at them like brickybacks when they stand in your hall? How can they have that glad the teacher says they may for the songs in their throats and the pictures in their eyes and their hands to make statyous when they got those scroochtdown Dago feelings on themselves (not counting Concetta) and you got the same on them to be their rellytives? My Italian proudness is all spoiled.

Your unhappy
Jane.

* * * * *

_Dearest and Best_,--

I am writing to you in my cloak and my hat is still on my head because my feelings fizzed and fizzed all the way home from the call on my Italian rellytives and will not stay shut up in me one more minute.

All days I felt as if there was a string on my soul and Aunt Maddalena was pulling it and I knew Dago must go to Dago. The Principal said a teacher might company me this afternoon which she so done.

O Mother, rellytives are no good but to make grief and woe! I wish mine were back in Italy like a rubber boot washed by many seas, I do indeed. No, I would save out Aunt Maddalena because love is sprouting in my heart for her and how she does not look all homely as at first. And the baby with eyes like chockylet creams, it is a dear baby. Giuseppe is a newsy and newsys are ever desprit characters and usto pull my braids, but Giuseppe has not done it yet and he has a hello grin on him so you got to like him anyway and I do not wish away my cousin Giuseppe. Marietta next to Giuseppe is very good and quiet and pityful to be so thin and pale and nobody could wish her away. Assunta between Marietta and the baby has long black curls and dimples, and I ached to hug and hug her but I never could for the eyes of Concetta kept me all friz up on my bench so I sat still and hugged not.

Aunt Maddalena would have embrased me the same as at the reception but Concetta had to put in her Italian talk “Have care, little Mother, for the fine clothes of our grand lady cousin.”

All the time of this visit I felt as if my heart was a pincushion and every word of Cousin Concetta stuck another pin in that cushion for the hate she got against me. She asked me in her own talk why I brought that teacher to show her how poor they live. Was it not enought for me to know it myself and come where I was wanted by nobody?

They are terrible poor, Mother, and live way upstairs in the back tennyment with no window to look on the street but just at clothes-lines and for furniture some big and little benches such as my Uncle could make with boards loose from the back fence if he got them first and not the neighbors to burn and a little old busted stove and a bed very ricketty and the plaster to fall off in many spots.

They must take coats home to finish just for some cents each one. Aunt Maddalena sewed like crazy and Concetta the same hard and fierce and Marietta pale and pityful must sew and little Assunta pulled the bastings and minded the baby. She cried to go sit on the doorstep and Aunt Maddalena shook her, not for mad but because tears would drop on that coat of fine cloth and ruin them all.

Uncle Nicolo is a man of ditches in America because we walk not on our grapes to make them wine, and when he cannot get ditches to dig he is out of work which is dreadful and all must finish more coats. He walked in at the door and I saw him for the first time ever. He bowed polite to the teacher and me and shook our hands. He did not laugh nor sing long songs nor take his piccolo out of his pocket as my Mama that died said he had those habbits but sat on a bench with his head to hang down in front and his hands to fall between his knees.

The teacher spoke with him very friendly and he told her O if he had fifty $ to buy a fruitstand of an Italian man who must take his poor sick wife back to Italy to die in the arms of her old Mother, then the family could live fine and not finish the coats. After telling this Uncle Nicolo fell back into his sorry thinks and talked no more.

Giuseppe was gone to sell his papers, the teacher could not speak all the time about nothing, Aunt Maddalena in English can only smile and smile, the little girls were too bashful and the baby too young and Uncle Nicolo too sad and Concetta too mean to talk so nobody did.

By and by Aunt Maddalena begged me to tell of my Mama that died and all our family, but I have lost the habbit to speak Italian and was afraid to say it funny and full of mistakes for Cousin Concetta to laugh so I answered “Aunt I cannot.”

Then Concetta went and made this lie, “Little Mother, our grand lady cousin has forgot she was ever poor like us. Do not make her the pain to remember.”

O Mother, that was mean and mean and mean! I hated Concetta to say that lie of me, so I begged the teacher please let us go and we went.

I will never go back to see them any more--I’m all finished up with them forever and forever world without hen!

Goodbye Aunt Maddalena, dear Aunt no more ugly but good and sweet. Goodbye Giuseppe of the hello grin. Goodbye poor little Marietta so pityful. Goodbye Assunta with the Isabella looks and curls. Goodbye baby of the big eyes like chockylet creams. Goodbye Uncle Nicolo. I hope you get plenty of ditches to dig and can buy that fruit stand. I do indeed. Goodbye Cousin Concetta with your manners like snow to freeze me and your words like mustard to burn me.

Mother darling, I feel some unfizzed and I just have time to put away my hat and coat before the supper bell.

Goodbye from
Jane.

* * * * *

_Dear Mother_,

Your letter hurt fierce and awful but I guess it’s what the Principal calls a merryted reebuke. You say you have no daughter Jane and want none of that name if my last letters are her kind to write. You tell the great dizzypoint you got in me to be so snubbish and your surprise that I can so quick forget the feelings I usto have in my soul when the Exclusives were hawty with me the same. O how you put big big Selfish on me to fuss all times at my own mortifide and not considder the mortifide of my rellytives at the reception to find themselves such differents. In the call also you feel Scorn for me as a horrid silly Prig not to talk Italian with my dear Aunt. And my Mama that died--how dreadful she must have felt to lean over in her Heavenly seat and see me act like that to her used-to-be-beautiful sister and I guess God has His oppinion of me too.

The repentants I got on all the family is big as a house but it don’t reach to my Cousin Concetta--no ma’am it don’t! Her I must ever hate as she does me and she made its start when I never did. Last night I had trouble with my prayers all on account of her. This morning when I woke I felt as if I had caught meazles in my soul for my thinks of her.

Yes, ma’am, I will go spend the whole Saturday to visit those rellytives I thought never to see again in my long life but Dago must go to Dago and that’s the true. Yes, ma’am, I will help finish the coats. Yes, Mother, to please you, I will love that Cousin of my bommynation just this Saturday, since you say that on Sunday I have your permission to hate her again if I can’t help it.

This is your first time to scold me, Mother, and it felt like spanks on my soul, but O you put such love and forgiveness at the end and now to be all confessed and promised up, why I feel more daughterish than ever.

Your never-more Jane
But always
Giovanna.

* * * * *

_Mother of my happy love_,--

On Saturday morning the Principal was to shop herself a new dress but she took me first to the house of my Aunt. They were terribly busy. This time the coats belonged to boys and all must sew sew like crazy to get finished that day for the rent. Poor little Marietta most fell off her bench with sleepy because all had sewed in the night. Giuseppe was gone to sell his papers and Uncle Nicolo to hunt his ditch to dig with little hope for ditches are scarce and many beg for shovels.

I said “Concetta, today I love you, give me a coat to sew.” She tost her head and mocked me back. “Very kind the grand lady Giovanna to love her poor cousin and sew a coat, very very kind! I thank you.” I did not get any mad but I just thought how mad I would be tomorrow for her to speak that way. I took a coat to finish off the pile but I sewed clear through and the stitches showed and Concetta must stop and pull them out. She said awful cross “Thank you, fine lady Giovanna, for the splendid help which will put us back three coats to get over. Why don’t you stay with your grand friends and let us be?”

I was much mortifide but not mad today or tomorrow because I had a big sorry on myself to put them back three coats by my fault.

When it was dinner time Concetta said “We have only polenta because this is the day of the rent. I fear our grand Cousin will starve.”

I answered “My Mama that died usto talk of polenta how good, so polenta is all right with me.” We had no tablecloth, just a big dish of polenta which is corn pudding made out of mutton. Giuseppe came and saylooted me with his hello grin but no words. O Mother, when I tasted that polenta I thought what will I do what will I do not to offend more Concetta because so fierce I did not like it that scarcely could my swallow act and besides there was not plenty for all. In that minute Giuseppe winkt his eye on my side and I slipt my share to him under the table which he ate with much joy and me the same that he should.

Very quick was finished the polenta because it was not much and all must hurry hurry to finish more coats. I begged very humble to try again and Concetta let me most scornful but I finished one all right and felt proud but there was no time for proudness, just grab another and another. At first it was like play to try to get through quick as the rest which I could not for even Marietta would beat me by both sleeves. I liked to wonder what was the color of hair now growing on the boy whose Papa would buy him this coat but soon no more because I got a little ache in my back which spread and spread and my arms ached fierce and my feet got asleep and my neck full of cricks. The black color would come off on my hands to make them horrid and ugly. I was hungry like I would starve and all my bones were full of pains but I had shame to stop first, so it was grab another and another till it seemed as if I had to sew down a long long road with no end but just coats and coats until I died.

O Mother, all at once I lost my Giovanna feelings and caught Concetta feelings instead. It was as if I was not me but her all poor and tired and ever sewing and hungry and sleepy and anksyus. I could see me, Giovanna, sitting there in the good clothes of your love clean and fed up and lazy and smarty and selfish and crittykle. O Mother, I hated me and not her so fierce that I cried to think how mean I was and all times putting it on her.

Concetta got big astonish to see my cry, but said real sweet as I never knew she could “Notta more sew--you tired, no? You stop now.”

Then I tried to explain and we all stopped and hugged and Concetta embraced me most of all and said I was not proud and hawty like she thought and for me to forgive and I hugged back most crazy with glad.

Uncle Nicolo came in and Concetta begged him to play the piccolo so they might dance to sellybrate. It is a fine father who can always have music in his pocket that his children may dance. I told Uncle Nicolo how my Mama that died said the neighbors called him Mr. Piccolo instead and he laughed a little for the first time in America I guess by his looks.

Isn’t it funny that my feet have not forgot the tarantella learned from my Mama that died while my head forgets many capitals of States in vacation? So Concetta and I were fine in love and danced it to each other like our Mothers usto, only Uncle Nicolo would have his sad thoughts again and forget to blow.

The Principal stood in the door and Dolly with her because Dolly had met her in a store and wanted to come. They begged and begged and coaxed and coaxed until Aunt Maddalena took her little shoes out of a chest and nobody could dance the tarantella like her. She looked old but danced young just as when all would walk miles to see the steps of her teeny feet.

O Mother, what do you think our dear Principal said--that her grand wonderful actress friend who visited us once at the school wants to learn the tarantella because she must dance it in a play named “Ibsen’s doll’s house” and nobody could teach her to do it like my Aunt Maddalena and the actress lady will pay Aunt Maddalena plenty of money to be taught. In that minute I got back my Italian proudness to think of that way-way-up-to-the-sky actress lady taking lessons off my Aunt.

O and Uncle Nicolo can buy that fruit stand and he was so glad he sang a long song which the Principal named grand opera. All the time he sang Dolly was scribbling with her pencil on the cuffs of my white waist but not so anybody would notice her much and then she whispered to me “Don’t send my limmyricks to the laundry.”

Next Uncle Nicolo played like he would break his cheeks and we all danced. Even the Principal made some whirls with Marietta.

We parted in joy and now I am home back at the school and happy happy! And I have looked in Dolly’s closet but I can’t find any limmyricks not to send to the laundry. I know all her clothes and she never said she wore any or what color.

Here is the poetry off my left cuff.

“There was an Aunt Maddalena
Whom Giovanna never had seena
She’s wrinkled and old
But her heart is fine gold
So her looks don’t count for a beana.”

Here is her poetry on my right cuff.

“There was a proud Cousin Concetta
Whose eyes were black as the jetta
She seemed full of hate
But that’s all a mistake
She’s so darling we’re glad to have metta.”

That’s the true just as if it wasn’t poetry, but all the rellytives in this big world dont = one precious darling Mother always first in the heart of

Giovanna.

GIOVANNA’S FIRST REMEMBERS

_Angelickal Mother of my gloryous new times_,

Such a hurry I got to put my first remembers in this letter because to-morrow we girls must fix them in compositions to oblige the Chair of Professor Sighkology who lectured to us in Assembly and I cannot make secrets with that Chair away from you who must ever be the Queen of all my deepmost thinks.

A senior said Professor Sighkology’s smile was Heavenly, but Dolly answered it was so impursynal it fell down between the desks. I never noticed which way flew his smile for wondering what sort of magic Chair to read my writing and put red ink on top of my mistakes. I’d like to see it only to feel that Chair staring at me without eyes would be worse than the evil eye of the old shoeman--I’ll tell about him when I get to his spot in my letter.

The girls are Odearing something dreadful about this composition (except Dolly who says hers will then be ready for her byography) but they don’t really mind--it’s just their Odear habit. Boosted up here as I am by your love and my orphan feelings not forgotten, I don’t see how they can fuss and fuss at nothing, I don’t indeed. But then a beggar of the street might peep in at the asylum window and hear the orphans Odear the same and say “What have those orphans all safe and fed got to Odear about?” and wonder at them just as I do at the Exclusives of this school.

No other girl here could make news to her mother of her first remembers since they had them together which we never could the ones I got now, because if I had been your daughter from the beginning all these first remembers would have been diferents. Anyway no daughter could belong any fiercer than I do now, _could_ they Mother? My days are trimmed up and deckorated with my thinks of you. And when I tell you these remembers we will belong some more for you to know all that passed with me in my years before I sewed by your side at the College Settlement where we used to take our first start with each other.

And even if we didn’t begin so early to belong, I hope we can finish up together and have our funerals the same afternoon. Sometimes I get scares in my bed to wonder if, you being older, God expects you to die first, but please live to be an aged lady and I won’t mind dying some young not to be left orphan again.

How strange that Dolly and I were babies in the world at the same time and her with a nurse of white cap and apron to ride her in the Park and embroidery dresses and her rattle silver, so no angel could guess she would ever be chums with the brown tenement baby which grew up me. And you, Precious Mother, were in the world too and God had you waiting for me like a grand surprise hid way back on the top cubboard shelf.

Dolly read a book out of the library so her composition is very intelleckchewel. She writes about her infantyle conceps but they were too much style for a Dago tenement kid so I am very sure I had none.

O Mother, wouldn’t it be fun if we could remember way far backer than we can and not forget how it feels to be teeny in laps and pull hair and talk guggy guggy? But no--we must grow to some bigness before memory sprouts in us.

Dolly’s earlyest reckylection is shook in church for badness to go sit on the pulpit steps and hug and kiss her new hat with the minister up there preaching how wicked is vanity. Can’t you just see her looking dear and cute and funny like anything?

I will tell you my own very firstest remember I got. I never knew there was any me in this world until the day the saloon burned across our street. All stands in my head just like a picture only myself I cannot see though I feel I am in the middle of it and little to hold on that way to the back of the chair where my Papa lifted me up to look. He was an awful handsome man of big black mustash. I can see very plain my Mama that died and hear her prayers of scare that our house would not burn also. All the front of that picture is blazing fire close close till it seems as if I could reach it with my hands. I had not then my “dawn of conshus fear” but jumped and danced on the chair like a little crazy with joy of the big red and yellow flames.

Dolly’s best scare was on a ghost which never skooted in at the window all white with eyes green and ringing its hands and moaning fierce to fly her off into the dark, but of nights she lay on her little bed expecting and expecting that ghost which the nurse said would come if she did not go quick to sleep, and she could not for scare of the ghost. It was all just a wicked lie of that nurse so she could run talk with her bow over the fence.

My first afraid was on that old Dago shoeman. He pozest the evil eye and always plenty of work because the neighbors had scares of what would fall on them if another should mend their shoes. He sat close to the door in his little shop where I must pass on errands to the grocery. My Mama that died hung a charm about my neck to keep off his bad looks; also she showed me how to make horns with my hand but I must hold my horny hand at my back for politeness. With the charm and horns I felt safe when I was in the house just going to start, but soon as I heard his hammer tinky tinky I would go slow and slow grabbing my charm and making my horns and shake and shake and whisper little prayers and creep soft on my tippy toes till I was half past and then run like crazyness.

Dolly says her scare was worse than mine because the old shoeman stayed in his shop and didn’t go flopping round into windows. I told her but he was really in the world and the ghost was not, and she answers that’s the eyedentickle reason for the ghost to be worst.

I never dreamed that richness living upstairs and downstairs in its house could think of anything to want and not get it and there Dolly and I had the same wish which was a new baby in the family, girl for choice. Poorness got waited on up in Heaven and richness didn’t, so my going-to-be-chum Dolly had to stay an only like she was.

I wish she could have had hers too. She needed it worse than me because I was not quite an only on account of Tony. I never noticed when he came. He was in our house not so big as I when I first thought about him. He was too big though to make a good baby and wouldn’t play it anyway. All the girls my size on the tenement doorstep had babies to tend, so it was no good form to be without and I must ever play old maid which is very stupid with no children to lick. It was only nice when the hand organ would come to our block because a baby is awful heavy to dance with for several tunes while an old maid can dance all tunes very free and glad.

My best friend was named Katy. She was proud to be Irish and no Dago. Her father was a man of pollyticks who could shake hands with the alderman just whenever he pleased, and the alderman got him a job to sweep the dirt of the streets into a great big dustpan with a long handle. Katy was so haughty for that she would not be much friends with Dago kids but with me yes, because we had the other front tenement to look on the street and lived in good style with always something to pawn when there was not money enough for the rent. So she liked me at home but not at school--there she walked at recess with her arms around the Irish and not me. But after school she was my friend again and said the rest in our tenement were ginneys and could not sit on the top step along with us.

One day when Katy got home from school she found a bran new baby in her house and she was stucker up than ever because it was a sister which is more stylish than brothers and it was blonde white with teeny gold curls like no other baby in that tenement. I was its old maid Aunt and must hold it most all the time while Katy was busy chasing kids off the top step.