spoke slowly. “Aunt Millie,” she said, “do you ever feel funny about…you know…having to buy crushed bread and broken cookies and all?”
“Everything we bought’s perfectly good,” said Aunt Millie. “It may not look perfect, but none of it’s rotten or spoiled. It’ll taste fine, you’ll see.”
“I meant,” Kit faltered, “it’s…hard to be poor in front of people.”
“Being poor is nothing to be ashamed of,” said Aunt Millie stoutly, “especially these days, with so many folks in the same boat.”
Kit shook herself. How silly she was being! Of course Aunt Millie was right. Kit knew she should be proud of Aunt Millie’s thrifty ideas. Wasn’t that the whole point of the Almanac? Kit turned her thoughts to her book. Which section should I put these new grocery shopping ideas in? she wondered. “Cooking” or “Miscellaneous Savings”?
Grace
“What’ll it be?” asked Kit.
“Come downstairs,” Stirling said, smiling. “You’ll see.”
Kit finished her cleaning and then went downstairs. The front door was open. Mother, Dad, Stirling, and Aunt Millie were standing outside, gathered around a wooden crate.
Dad grinned at Aunt Millie. “You’ve outdone yourself this time,” he said.
Kit gasped. The crate was full of chickens! Live, squawking, white-feathered chickens! Kit knelt next to the crate. “Are they ours?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Aunt Millie. “I swapped for them. Remember that bag of apples? I cut out the bruises, made pies, and traded them.”
“You swapped pies for chickens?” asked Dad.
“Well, I threw in a few other things, too,” said Aunt Millie.
“Are we…are we going to eat the chickens?” asked Kit, who had already fallen in love with the fat, noisy, cluck-cluck-clucking birds.
“Heavens no!” said Aunt Millie. “We’re going to sell their eggs.”
“Who’s going to sell their eggs?” asked Mother.
Aunt Millie put one hand on Kit’s shoulder and the other on Stirling’s shoulder. “My partners here,” she said, “will go door-to-door selling the eggs.”
Mother looked dismayed. “The children will be selling eggs to our neighbors?” she asked. “As if they were…peddlers?”
“Folks are always glad to buy fresh eggs,” said Aunt Millie. She turned to Kit and Stirling. “Come on, partners. Let’s get these hens settled. The sooner they are settled, the sooner they’ll lay eggs, and the sooner we’ll be in business.”
Stirling looked sideways at Kit. “‘Chickens,’” he murmured.
Kit grinned and nodded. That would be the name of the newest section of Aunt Millie’s Waste-Not, Want-Not Almanac.
Dad built a chicken coop behind the garage. Mother had put her foot down and insisted that the chicken coop must not be visible from the house. Of course, it was still possible to hear and often smell the chickens from the house. Kit knew that this distressed Mother, who was not happy about the chickens in the first place. Kit heard her say to Dad, “I do wish Miss Mildred had asked us before she hatched this chickens-and-eggs idea.”
Everyone else was delighted with the chickens, especially Kit herself. The chickens weren’t very smart, but they were cheerful. They made Kit laugh the way they clucked so excitedly all day long. Kit enjoyed feeding them. She scooped out handfuls of feed from the big cloth feed sack and scattered it on the ground. Often, as she fed the chickens, Kit felt like a farm girl living out in the country long, long ago.
Sometimes it seemed to Kit that she was leading two completely different lives. One life was at home with Aunt Millie and her quirky, economical, country ways that Kit wrote about in the Almanac. Her other life, at school, was entirely separate. Except for Ruthie and Stirling, none of Kit’s classmates knew anything about her “waste-not, want-not” life at home. Kit wondered what they’d think if they did.
The weather, in spring’s fickle way, turned cold and rainy. The rain was good news for the vegetable patch, which had a crew cut of green sprouts. But it was not good news for Kit and Stirling, who were planning to go on their very first egg-selling expedition this very afternoon. The rain was not good news for Mother and Mrs. Howard, either, because for the first time in a long time, the garden club ladies were coming for a meeting.
Inviting the garden club ladies had been another of Aunt Millie’s ideas. Mother was reluctant. She liked things to be just so for the garden club meetings. Of course, there had been no money or time for such fussing since Dad lost his job and the boarders arrived. The meetings could never again be as fancy or elaborate as those in the old days. For one thing, Mother had sold a great deal of her good silver. But Aunt Millie had insisted they could still have a fine party. “You leave it to me,” she had said. “I’ll use energy instead of money.”
And sure enough, when Kit saw the room set up for the party, she knew that Aunt Millie had pulled off another one of her amazing surprises. She had washed the best linen tablecloth and napkins to make them dazzling white, then starched and ironed them into stiff perfection. She had polished the one remaining silver candleholder until it gleamed. She made peach pies and apple pies that were works of art. No one would know the peaches came out of dented cans and the apples were bruised. And no one would ever guess that her dainty tea sandwiches were made of crushed bread with the crusts cut off and wilted watercress she’d made crisp by soaking it in cold water overnight. Aunt Millie had dusted, polished, and swept the house till it shone, despite the gloomy weather outside.
Mother and Mrs. Howard, who was quite perked up by the idea of the party, placed a gorgeous bouquet of irises from the garden on the table. Then Mother stood back to survey the whole room.
“Miss Mildred,” said Mother with a big, genuine smile. “Thank you very much for everything you’ve done. It all looks beautiful.”
“It’s just a matter of making the best of what you’ve got,” said Aunt Millie. She shooed Mother out of the room, saying, “You skedaddle now. Go get yourself beautiful for your ladies.” Then Aunt Millie turned to Kit and Stirling. “You two skedaddle, too. Go sell those eggs. When you’re done, come see me. I’ll have some goodies for you from the party.”
So Kit and Stirling went out into the rain. Kit pulled the wagon while Stirling kept an eye on the eggs. Aunt Millie had divided them into groups of six, which she had
