And I'm going to stop it. It's gone farenough." She faltered. "Oh, but Ishouldn't really be telling you this. It'snone of your business, anyway. But-it'sgone far enough."

They had reached Bovard Avenue,and Brynn saw the car slow up in frontof her home. "There! That's it! The thirdhouse from the corner!" The woman

screamed triumphantly, "No lights on!""I beg your pardon, but just exactly

who are you looking for?" asked Brynn,quite indignant by this time.

"Young lady, I am looking for a MissBrynn Roberts, who works for the Dwyerconstruction firm. I am Mrs. J. ConradDwyer, and I expect to find my husbandthere."

The SpoonMARY ALICE KESSLER

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Mary closed the big wooden doorcarefully and waited for the click thatlocked it. She walked slowly across thegravel schoolyard, kicking the largestrocks with her foot. She counted eachstep ... one ... two ... three ... four.On fifty, she climbed over the low ironfence surrounding the yard and stoodquietly as if she were listening for some-thing. Suddenly a shrill whistle cut thespring air and Mary tucked her arithme-tic book under her arm, tossed a long,black pig-tail over her shoulder andwalked slowly down the buggy wheel-scarred dirt street. Mary always waitedfor the factory whistle to blow before shestarted home. She knew that her motherwould be leaving the box factory then;she would meet her at the big spottedsycamore tree at the corner of KennyStreet; they would walk home together.That was the best part of the day forMary, even better than waiting in linewith Katie at Brogan's Pharmacy to buya penny's worth of red hots after eatingan egg sandwich in the cold, gray base-ment lunchroom. This was the beautifulpart of the day. The chalky blackboardand columns of figures and hard spelling-

words like "believe" and "receive," thefrozen-faced nun were the dull, gray partof the day. But walking home with hermother was Mary's special waited forpart of living at nine.

Mary cut across Dugan's junk yard,picking up an old coffee pot without a lidbecause they might be able to use it athome, and sat down on a gib, flat rockthat was near the sycamore tree. Hermother would be late today. She gotpaid on Tuesdays and Mary knew shewould stop in at the Dry Goods store tobuy something for her. It was a littleritual the way Mary's mother alwaysbought her a penny's worth of pencils ora piece of bright-colored ribbon for ahair bow on pay-day.

Mary listened to the sounds 'abouther. A horse whinied and she could hearthe old l1Qrse-pulled trolley weave alongon South Street toward town. She shiv-ered a little as the raw spring air blewhard through her faded, gingham dress,and then she looked up and saw hermother coming down the darkening street.She seemed so small as she hurried along,side-stepping the deeper wheel ruts,clutching a small tan paper sack in one

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hand. Mary stood up and ran to meether. She caught hold of her hand andsqueezed it as they turned down KennyStreet towards home.

"How was everything at school today,Mary?"

"Oh, it was fine. Sister said I playedmy scales better than anybody and Sarafell down during recess and broke herarm."

"Oh.""Isn't it pretty out tonight, Mama?

I don't mind going to school when it'swarm and we get to go out for recess."

"Yes, the seasons are come and gone.White or green we keep going and thelittle ones are happy like the new buds."

They walked a long way in the duskbefore Mary gathered enough courage tospeak again.

"Mama, Cecelia Doherty asked me toher birthday party and everybody's sup-posed to bring a present and what willI take?"

Nora Dunn kept walking fast.

"Never mind, Mary. I'll find yousomething and you'll be having it fixednice."

That night after Mary and her moth-er had dried the dishes they sat downtogether on the back porch steps. Thenight was so quiet and dark that the twospoke little. A gentle rain had begun tofall and a cool breeze was stirring thosespring smells that are so delicate andnostalgic. The earth smelled clean, thewet crocus buds, the silver splashes ofrain on the bottom wooden step, thesound of the drip, drip, drip of the cold,steady rain on the tin eaves - all thesesounds and smells swelled to a beautifulfeeling in Mary and she sighed heavilyas she thought of Cecelia's birthday party.

"I know what you can take to theparty, Mary. The spoon ... you know

the spoon Aunt Margaret gave me whenI was married. It's pure silver and itwon't be as if you're not giving somethingnew-bought. Silver is better when it'saged."

Nora Dunn got up slowly and wentinto the kitchen. Without lighting thegas lamp, she opened the china closetdoor and felt along the top shelf for avelvet box. When she had found it, shebrought it out onto the porch with herand went to the far end of the porch.The McMullen's next door had their lightsturned up ,and Nora opened the boxcarefully. There lay the spoon brownwith age and lack of use, lying on a darkvelvet mounting.

"I'll have to clean it up, Mary," shesaid, after turning it over several timesin her rough hand. "We've got nothingin the house."

She pulled her woolen shawl tightabout her shoulders and walked downthe steps to a small mound of sand nearthe back of the large wooden second handstore that hid the Dunn house from thestreet, and scooped up a handfull of thesoggy brown sand.

"Mr. Shaughnessy won't be mindingif I borrow some of his sand. It'll cleanthe spoon up fine and make it shine likeit used to."

Mary watched her mother clean thespoon. The dark-shawled figure bent lowover the tiny silver piece, scouring thesand through the gummy brown of yearswith the edge of her apron. At last sherose and even in the dark, Mary couldsee a glint of light from the "new" spoon.

The next Saturday, Mary spent thewhole morning in getting ready for theparty after she had gone over to Mr.Dohme's grocery store to tell him sheCOUldn't help with sacking the vegetablesbecause she had to help at home. Her

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mother told her she shouldn't say any-thing about the party because Mr. Dohmewouldn't' 'understand and it wasn't reallya lie because she would be helping athome. When she got home from thegrocery,she tied her long black hair upin rags, washed and ironed her whitedimity party dress, carefully ruffling theedges with the big flat-iron. The ironfelt so warm and good when she pickedit up off the wood stove with a holder,and it felt good to take a sudsy bath inthe big wash tub and look in the kitchenmirror and see -a face shiny with soapand happiness.

When 'she had put on everything buther dress, Mary threw her mother's bluewrapper about her shoulders and wentout into -the-back yard to pick a fewflowers for her hair. Mary thought thatthe back yard was prettier then usual.The red brick -walk was clean from thespring ratns and two neat rows of yellowand red tulips made it a fairy path. Asmall bed of pink and yellow and bluecrocus danced in the afternoon breeze,and the big pink splotch of japonica nearthe wooden store was so bright that itblinded Mary. Small clumps of grapehyacinths and daffodils were laced intothe tall grass and Mary stood solemnlybeneath a cloud of apricot blossoms that

etched their powdery white over the yardlistening to the murmur of flowers andwind and birds. At last she bent to picka stalk of tiny blue hyacinths, one yellowdaffodil bloom and a hard, red tulip bud.Inside the house, she tied them togetherwith a piece of string and laid the bou-quet by the spoon that her mother hadwrapped in tissue paper. She put on herwhite dimity dress very carefully, smooth.,ing the pleats gently, and put a drop oflavendar water behind each ear. Sheuntied the rags from her hair and brush-ed the blue-black curls into place, pinningthe cool, damp flowers at her left temple.Then she walked slowly to the mirror.She looked very pretty and clean, andMary made a little curtsy as she smiledand said, "I'm very glad that I was ableto come, Mrs. Doherty."

Mary picked up the spoon carefully,

locked the kitchen door and the front

door after her as she heard Katie call

from across the street. The two claspedhands as they met and began to walkdown the green-coated street toward thebetter section on Irish Hill.

"Mary, what are you taking to theparty?"

"I'm taking a pure silver spoon."And Mary felt sure it would be fitting.

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