Rufus M. Read Free Page A

exclaimed the lady. "Where'd you come from? Didn't I send you home? No, I don't live here and neither do you. Come now, out with you, young man. I mean it." The lady called all boys "young man" and all girls "Susie." She came out of the little room and she opened the big brown door again. "There," she said. "Come back on Thursday."
    Rufus's eyes filled up with tears.
    "Here's this," he said again, holding up his application in a last desperate attempt. But the lady shook her head. Rufus went slowly down the steps, felt around in the bushes for his scooter, and with drooping spirits he mounted it. Then for the second time that day, the library lady changed her mind.
    "Oh, well," she said, "come back here, young man. I'm not supposed to do business when the library's closed, but I see we'll have to make an exception."
    So Rufus rubbed his sooty hands over his face, hid his scooter in the bushes again, climbed the granite steps, and without circling the light he went back in and gave the lady his application.
    The lady took it gingerly. "My, it's dirty," she said. "You really ought to sign another one."
    "And go home with it?" asked Rufus. He really didn't believe this was possible. He wiped his hot face on his sleeve and looked up at the lady in exhaustion. What he was thinking was: All right. If he had to sign another one, all right. But would she just please stay open until he got back?
    However, this was not necessary. The lady said, "Well now, I'll try to clean this old one up. But remember, young man, always have everything clean—your hands, your book, everything, when you come to the library."
    Rufus nodded solemnly. "My feet, too," he assured her.
    Then the lady made Rufus wash his hands again. They really were very bad this time, for he had been in a coal pile, and now at last she gave Rufus the book he wanted—one of the Palmer Cox Brownie books. This one was
The Brownies in the Philippines.
    And Rufus went home.
    When he reached home, he showed Mama his book. She smiled at him, and gave his cheek a pat. She thought it was fine that he had gone to the library and joined all by himself and taken out a book. And she thought it was fine when Rufus sat down at the kitchen table, was busy and quiet for a long, long time, and then showed her what he had done.
    He had printed RUFUS M. That was what he had done. And that's the way he learned to sign his name. And that's the way he always did sign his name for a long, long time.
    But, of course, that was before he ever went to school at all, when the Moffats still lived in the old house, the yellow house on New Dollar Street; before this country had gone into the war; and before Mr. Abbot, the curate, started leaving his overshoes on the Moffats' front porch.

2. A Trainload of Soldiers

    Now the Moffats lived in a tiny little house set far back from the street on Ashbellows Place. And Rufus could write and print the
offat
part of
Moffat
as well as
Rufus M.
He could do this with either hand, his right hand or his left hand. Moreover, he was knitting a washcloth for the soldiers because now this country had joined the war. And Mr. Abbot, the young curate, left his overshoes more and more often on the Moffats' front porch as he thought up more and more reasons for coming to call. First it was cassocks Mama must sew for him. Then it was about the bazaar.
    Of course, the real reason probably was that he hoped to find Sylvie at home. Maybe he hoped to marry her someday. All the Moffats thought this would not be surprising since she had the prettiest voice in the whole choir and did not sing fluttery like Mrs. Peale. So that was why Mr. Abbot's overshoes were on the porch so often. He always wore his overshoes, in rain or shine, because his work carried him far afield, through muddy fields and lots.
    As for Sylvie, she was going to the Art School, where she had won a scholarship. She was dancing and singing in every play that was put on for the soldiers. Moreover, she was working