The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1910-09-11

eyes of We start clean out Of yer head,
gain at what we've seen a hundred
times before. Wash the dishes an be
quick about it, fer I'll be wantin we
to take little Barney down on the bank
a spell"
AS Mary Cannon said, Nannette had
seen the proceedings a hundred times
before. yet it had not lost interest for
her. She liked to see the men free
the mules and draw the boat by the
heel line to the bank. 1t was fun to
watch Patrick Cannon ambling along,
putting at the ubiquitous pipe, with
his hat size too small set jauntily on
the side of his head, calling out orders
to his men. But she knew too well
what failure to heed Mary Gannon's
strident voice would mean, so she took
her head down out of the manhole
where she had been watching the un-
loading and went downstairs to the
Kitchen where she began scraping the
dishes clean.
1t was a hot August day and the
little boat kitchen was close and
stuffy. The table stood under the
hunks where Tim Joyce and her father
slept Just across from it was the
coohstove in which a coal fire was
roaring for it was Saturday morning
and Mary Cannon was getting ready to
bake pies for Sunday dinner
Nannette did hurry with the dishes,
partly because she was afraid of slap
from Mary Gannon's broad hand but
mostly because she wanted to get out
of the Kitchen The heat was almost
unbearable, and great beads of per-
spiration stood on her forehead. AS she
worked she thought of the kitchen at
home where there were no berths over
the table; where the floor was covered
with blue thing and was always cool
and sweet, for Nannette had not always
lived with Mary Cannon, nor in the
old days had her father been boat
man.
Their home had been in that lovely
region of southern France which balmy
winds from the Mediterranean make an
eternal summer land. 1t was in the
vineyard and flower country where
grapes were grown for French wines
and flowers for Partisan perfumes, in
quaint stone house set among chest
nut trees 1t was very old house
The stones were green with moss that
many hundred years had spread upon
them and to them honeysuckles and
jasmines hung ropes of bloom. In front
was the gulf of Lyons, shining like a
sapphire in the SUM- behind, dreaming
under a sky that seldom knew a cloud
the blue peaks of the Cevennes, Nan
nette thought the sun must love the
mountains. for 1T always wore it's love-
Hest colors when it touched the sum
mits.
The father worked all day in the
garden, among roses that were made
into perfume for the ladies of Paris.
Sometimes Nannette and the mother
helped him pick the blossoms and
spread them on trays to dry, but the
STOPPING hurt the mothers back, and
Nannette always pricked her fingers
with thorns, so they did not stay in the
garden very long at time.
The mother had a wonderful stock
which she used to tell to the little girl
when she grew tired Of play.
Often they sat under the jasmine in
the doorway and watched the big ships
go up and down the gulf. Nannette
wondered If she would ever go on those
vessels to some far land, and when she
asked her mother, she told her that
a little girl can go wherever her
thoughts take her. Even though she is
washing dishes and scrubbing tiles in
the kitchen. she may be fine lady in
a great hall
Nannette always remembered this,
and often when Mary Cannon scolded
and the boat kitchen was cluttered