What Happened To Alanna: Part Two Of Three

The story of Alanna and her raffle book continues, and we discover that the very lovable Mrs Church has her eyes set on the prize, much to Alanna's consternation. Written by Kathleen Norris.

Music by William King

Transcript

Hello,

It's Mandy here.

Thanks for joining me tonight.

We're going to be listening to part two of what happened to Alana by Kathleen Norris.

But before I start,

Please go right ahead and make yourself really comfortable.

That's great.

So we're rejoining Alana,

Just after her mother has had the idea of letting her run a raffle.

Part two.

The next day,

Alana trotted beside her father to Paul's big furniture store and after long hesitation,

Selected a little desk of shining brass and dull oak.

Now,

Said her father,

When they were back in his office and Teresa and Mrs.

Costello were eager for the matinee.

Here's your book of numbers,

Alana.

And here,

I'll tie a pencil and a string to it.

Don't lose it.

I've given you 200 numbers at a quarter each.

And mind,

The minute anyone pays for one,

You put their name down on the same line.

Ooh,

Said Alana in pride.

200!

That's lots of money,

Isn't it,

Dad?

That's $11 or $14,

Isn't it,

Dad?

That's $50,

Goose,

Said her father,

Making a dot with the pencil on the tip of her upturned little nose.

Ooh,

Said Teresa,

Awed.

Hatted,

Furred and muffed,

She leaned on her father's shoulder.

Ooh,

Dad,

Whispered Alana with scarlet cheeks.

So now,

Said her mother,

With a little nod of encouragement and warning,

Put it right in your muff,

Lovey.

Don't lose it.

Dan or Jim will help you count your money and keep things straight.

And to begin with,

We'll all take a chance,

Said the mayor,

Bringing his fat palm,

Full of silver,

Up from his pocket.

How old are you,

Mommy?

I'm 37,

As well you know,

Frank,

Said his wife promptly.

36 and 37 for you,

Then,

He wrote her name opposite both numbers.

And here's the mayor on the same page,

44,

And 12 for Tessie,

And 8 for this high binder on my knee here.

And now we'll have one for little Gertie.

Gertrude Costello was not yet three months old,

Her mother said.

Well,

She can have number one anyway,

Said the mayor.

You make a reduced rate for one family,

I understand,

Miss Costello.

I don't,

Chuckled Alana,

Locking her thin little arms about his neck and digging her chin into his eye.

So he gave her full price,

And she went off with her mother,

In a state of great content,

Between rows and rows of coffins,

And cases of plumes,

And handles and rosettes,

And designs for monuments.

Mrs.

Church will want some chances,

Won't she,

Mother,

She said suddenly.

Let Mrs.

Church alone,

Darling,

Advised Mrs.

Costello.

She's not a Catholic,

And there's plenty to take chances without her.

Alana reluctantly assented,

But she need not have worried.

Mrs.

Church voluntarily took many chances,

And became very enthusiastic about the desk.

She was a pretty clever young woman,

Of whom all the Costellos were very fond.

She lived with a very young husband and a very new baby,

In a tiny cottage near the big Irish family,

And pleased Mrs.

Costello by asking her advice on all domestic matters,

And taking it.

She made the Costello children welcome at all hours,

In her tiny shining kitchen,

Or sunny little dining room.

She made them candy,

And told them stories.

She was a minister's daughter,

And wise in many delightful,

Girlish,

Friendly ways.

And in return,

Mrs.

Costello did her many a kindly act,

And sent her,

Almost daily,

Presents in the most natural manner imaginable.

But Mrs.

Church made Alana very unhappy about the ruffled desk.

It so chanced that it matched exactly the other furniture in Mrs.

Church's rather bare drawing room,

And this made her eager to win it.

Alana,

At eight,

Long familiar with raffles and their ways,

Realised what a very small chance Mrs.

Church stood of getting the desk.

It distressed her very much to notice that lady's growing certainty of success.

She took chance after chance,

And with every chance,

And with every chance,

She warned Alana of the dreadful results of her not winning.

And Alana,

With a worried line between her eyes,

Protested her helplessness afresh.

She will do it,

Dad,

The little girl confided to him one evening,

When she and her book and her pencil were on his knee.

And it worries me so.

Oh,

I do hope she wins it,

Said Teresa ardently.

She's not a Catholic,

But we're praying for her anyway.

And you know,

People who aren't Catholics,

Dad,

Are apt to think that our fairs are pretty money-making,

You know.

And if only she could point to that desk,

Said Alana,

And say that she won it at a Catholic fair.

But she won't,

Said Teresa,

Suddenly cold.

I'm praying she will,

Said Alana.

Oh,

I don't think you ought,

Do you,

Dad,

Said Teresa gravely.

Do you think she ought,

Mummy?

That's just like her pouring her holy water over the kitten.

You oughtn't to do those things.

I ought to,

Said Alana,

In a whisper that reached only her father's ear.

You suit me whatever you do,

Said Mayor Costello.

And Mrs Church can take her chances with the rest of us.

Mrs Church seemed to be quite willing to do so.

When at last the great day of the fair came,

She was one of the first to reach the hall in the morning.

To ask Mrs Costello how she might be of use.

Now,

Wait a minute then,

Said Mrs Costello cordially.

She straightened up as she spoke from an inspection of a box of fancy work.

We could only get into this hall this hour gone,

My dear,

And t'was a sight after the sun's banquet last night.

It'll be a miracle if we get things in order for tonight.

Father Crowley said he'd have three carpenters here this morning at nine without fail,

But not one's come yet.

That's the way.

Oh,

We'll fix things,

Said Mrs Church,

Shaking out a dainty little apron.

Alana came briskly up and beamed at her.

The little girl was driving about on all sorts of errands for her mother and had come in to report.

Mother,

I went home,

She said in a breathless rush,

And told Alma four extra were coming to lunch,

And here are your big scissors,

And I told the boys you wanted them to go to Uncle Dan's for greens.

They took the buckboard,

And I went to Keezer's for the cheesecloth,

And he had only 18 yards of pink,

But he thinks Kelly's have more,

And there are the tacks,

And they don't keep spool wire,

And the electrician will be here in ten minutes.

Alana,

You're the pride of my life,

Said her mother,

Kissing her.

That's all now,

Dearie.

Sit down and rest.

Oh,

But I'd rather go round and see things,

Said Alana,

And off she went.

The immense hall was filled with the noise of voices,

Hammers,

And laughter.

Groups of distracted women were forming and dissolving everywhere around chaotic masses of boards and bunting.

Whenever a carpenter started for the door or entered it,

He was waylaid,

Bribed,

And bullied by the frantic superintendents of the various booths.

Messengers came and went,

Staggering under masses of evergreen,

Carrying screens,

Rope,

Suitcases,

Baskets,

Boxes,

Japanese lanterns,

Freezers,

Rugs,

Ladders,

And tables.

Alana found the stage fascinating.

Lunch and dinner were to be served there for the five days of the fair,

And it had been set with many chairs and tables,

Fenced with ferns and bamboo.

Alana was charmed to arrange knives and forks,

To unpack oily hams and sticky cakes,

And great bowls of salad,

And to store them neatly away in a green room.

The grand piano had been moved down to the floor.

Now and then an audacious boy or two banged on it for the few moments that it took his mother's voice or hands to reach him.

Little girls gently played the Carnival of Venice,

Or Echoes of the Bull,

With their scared eyes alert for reproof.

And once two of the big sodality girls came up,

Assured and laughing and dusty,

And boldly performed one of their convent duets.

Some of the tired women in the booths straightened up and clapped,

And called,

Encore!

Teresa was not one of these girls.

Her instrument was the violin.

Moreover,

She was busy and absorbed at the Children of Mary's booth,

Which by four o'clock began to blossom all over its white draped pillars and tables,

With ribbons and embroidery,

And tissue paper,

And cushions and aprons and collars,

And all sorts of perfumed prettiness.

The two priests were constantly in evidence,

Their cassocks and hands showing unaccustomed dust.

And over all the confusion,

Mrs Costello shone supreme.

Her brisk,

Big figure,

With skirts turned back,

And a blue apron still further protecting them,

Was everywhere at once.

Laughter and encouragement marked her path.

She wore a paper of pins on the breast of her silk dress.

She had a tack hammer thrust in her belt.

In her apron pockets was string and wire and tacks.

A big pair of scissors hung at her side,

And a pencil was thrust through her smooth black hair.

She advised and consulted and directed,

With the priest.

It was to be observed that her mild,

Well father,

It seems to me,

Always won the day.

She led the electricians a life of it.

She became the terror of the carpenters' lives.

Where was that young lady that played the violin going to stay?

Send her up to Mrs Costello's.

Heavens,

We were short a tablecloth.

Oh,

But Mrs Costello had just sent Dan home for one.

How on earth could the male quartet from Tower Town find its way to the hall?

Mrs Costello had promised to tell Mr Costello to send a carriage for them.

She came up to the Children of Mary's booth about five o'clock.

Well,

If you girls ain't the wonders,

She said to the tired girls,

In a tone of unbounded admiration and surprise.

You make me ashamed of my own booth.

This is beautiful.

Oh,

Do you think so,

Mother?

Said Teresa,

Wistfully,

Clinging to her mother's arm.

I think it's grand,

Said Mrs Costello,

With conviction.

There was a delighted laugh.

I'm going to bring all the ladies up to see it.

Oh,

I'm so glad,

Said all the girls together,

Reviving,

Visibly.

And the pretty things you've got,

Went on the cheering matron.

You'll clear eight hundred if you'll clear a cent.

And now put me down for a chance or two.

Don't be scared,

Mary Riordan,

Four or five.

I'm going to bring Mr Costello over here tonight,

And don't you let him off too easy.

Everyone laughed joyously.

Did you hear of Alanna's luck?

Said Mrs Costello.

When the bishop got here,

He took her all around the hall with him.

And between this one and that,

Every last one of her chances is gone.

She couldn't keep her feet on the floor for joy.

The lucky girl.

They're waiting for you,

Tess,

Darling,

With the buckboard.

Go home and lay down a while before dinner.

Aren't you lucky,

Said Teresa,

As she climbed a few minutes later into the back seat with Jim,

And Dan pulled out the whip.

Alanna,

Swinging her legs,

Gave a joyful ascent.

She was too happy to talk.

To be continued.

Reviews

So much tenderness from these characters. Thanks Mandy🙏🏻

I continue to really enjoy your readings. Thank you, Mandy!