Chapters (30)
- OH, MONEY! MONEY!
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- Contents
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- Chapter I - Exit Mr. Stanley G. Fulton
- Chapter II - Enter Mr. John Smith
- Chapter III - The Small Boy at the Keyhole
- Chapter IV - In Search of Some Dates
- Chapter V - In Miss Flora's Album
- Chapter VI - Poor Maggie
- Chapter VII - Poor Maggie and Some Others
- Chapter VIII - A Santa Claus Held Up
- Chapter IX - "Dear Cousin Stanley"
- Chapter X - What Does it Matter?
- Chapter XI - Santa Claus Arrives
- Chapter XII - The Toys Rattle Out
- Chapter XIII - The Dancing Begins
- Chapter XIV - From Me to You with Love
- Chapter XV - In Search of Rest
- Chapter XVI - The Fly in the Ointment
- Chapter XVII - An Ambassador of Cupid's
- Chapter XVIII - Just a Matter of Begging
- Chapter XIX - Still Other Flies
- Chapter XX - Frankenstein: Being a Letter from John Smith to Edward D. Norton, Attorney at Law
- Chapter XXI - Sympathies Misplaced
- Chapter XXII - With Every Jim a James
- Chapter XXIII - Reflections—Mirrored and Otherwise
- Chapter XXIV - That Miserable Money
- Chapter XXV - Exit Mr. John Smith
- Chapter XXVI - Reenter Mr. Stanley G. Fulton
"Why—er—yes; her name will be entered as the daughter of the man who married the Widow Blaisdell, probably. Why?"
"Nothin'. I was only thinkin'. I hoped she was. Aunt Maggie don't have nothin' much, yer know, except her father an' housework—housework either for him or some of us. An' I guess she's had quite a lot of things ter bother her, an' make her feel bad, so I hoped she'd be in the book. Though if she wasn't, she'd just laugh an' say it doesn't matter, of course. That's what she always says."
"Always says?" Mr. Smith's voice was mildly puzzled.
"Yes, when things plague, an' somethin' don't go right. She says it helps a lot ter just remember that it doesn't matter. See?"
"Well, no,—I don't think I do see," frowned Mr. Smith.
"Oh, yes," plunged in Benny; "'cause, you see, if yer stop ter think about it—this thing that's plaguin' ye—you'll see how really small an' no-account it is, an' how, when you put it beside really big things it doesn't matter at all—it doesn't REALLY matter, ye know. Aunt Maggie says she's done it years an' years, ever since she was just a girl, an' somethin' bothered her; an' it's helped a lot."
"But there are lots of things that DO matter," persisted Mr. Smith, still frowning.
"Oh, yes!" Benny swelled a bit importantly, "I know what you mean. Aunt Maggie says that, too; an' she says we must be very careful an' not get it wrong. It's only the little things that bother us, an' that we wish were different, that we must say 'It doesn't matter' about. It DOES matter whether we're good an' kind an' tell the truth an' shame the devil; but it DOESN'T matter whether we have ter live on the West Side an' eat dinner nights instead of noons, an' not eat cookies any of the time in the house,—see?"
"Good for you, Benny,—and good for Aunt Maggie!" laughed Mr. Smith suddenly.
"Aunt Maggie? Oh, you don't know Aunt Maggie, yet. She's always tryin' ter make people think things don't matter. You'll see!" crowed Benny.
A moment later he had turned down his own street, and Mr. Smith was left to go on alone.