Why I Wrote Comedy                               13

Mrs. Pincus did not attempt to hasten my dressing in the usual
way although she did not omit the usual tweaking of my ears. She
even permitted me to wear the new ribbon my mother had brought
me the night before. I drew back suspiciously from an attempted
pat. Mrs. Pincus might have changed her mind before her hand
rested on my hair.

All day I was unusually silent in the kindergarten. Since I was
excused from any of the games that required much exercise, because
of my back, I had plenty of time to brood on my decision to tell my
mother the truth. When she came that night, she sullenly refused to
return the "good evening" that Miss Fannie extended her. Her lips
began to tremble. I was afraid she would cry and 1 did not want Miss
Fannie to see my mother cry! So on the pretense of having her help
me locate my coat and tam o' shanter, I took her to the wardrobe
closet and told her the truth.

She was so stunned that for a moment, she could do nothing but
stare at me.

"You tell the truth?" she said.

"She's got the ribbons too," I added.

This was too much. My mother rushed from me with the tale of
my tortures to Miss Fannie and Miss Rachel.

"Now, if you can't trust a religious woman who wears a wig,
whom can you trust?" she tearfully demanded.

One of the mothers who had crowded about her, told her of a
Mrs. Forman who lived in a rear house opposite who would be glad
to have us board with her.

My mother immediately went across with the woman to meet
Mrs. Forman, who proved to be a litde woman of fifty with curling
black bangs over her forehead. She had a long nose and thin little
pale lips that she sucked continually. She put her arms around me
and asked my mother where she had gotten such a pretty daughter.

My mother left me in her care and went to get our belongings
from the basement of Mrs. Pincus. In about a half hour she
returned, her cheeks streaked with tears and her eyes blazing with