Belles on their Toes

to Mother, who usually would see that we got what we wanted whether the budget could afford it or not. But Martha, ordinarily easy going, became furious when any of us worried Mother about money matters. And we found it was advisable, if we were going to expect favors from Martha in the future, not to go over her head.
    Whenever possible, and if the price were right, we did business with the United Cigar Store, which gave out coupons and certificates with each sale. The Cigar Store had a catalogue of premiums that included almost everything any of us wanted.
    There were such items as a Genuine Cowhide, Jet Black, Positively Guaranteed, Big League Catcher's Mitt, for 415 certificates. And the catalogue said that in addition to the mitt, a regulation big league baseball would be given away absolutely free, for a limited time only, to boys taking advantage of this amazing offer.
    Five yellow coupons equaled one green certificate, and we kept them in separate cigar boxes on Martha's dresser. Every couple of weeks, she'd call us into her room and we'd count what we had, putting rubber bands around each hundred coupons and each 20 certificates, and then figuring how long we'd have to wait until we had enough of them to redeem.
    Tom was a chain smoker, and usually bought his cigarettes by the pack, at whatever store happened to be handy. He was continually running out of them, and borrowing from the men taking Mother's course, or smoking butts from the ashtrays.
    Martha started buying cartons of his brand, at the United Cigar Store, and leaving them in the pantry. Whenever Tom took a pack, he'd put an IOU in the carton, and settle up with Martha on pay day.
    "I never thought you'd trv to make money off me, like in a company store," he'd grumble as he paid his bills.
    But Martha pointed out that she was selling him the cigarettes at cost—and that he was saving money by getting the carton rate. All she wanted was the certificates.
    Tom really was pleased by the convenience of Martha's "canteen," but he went out of his way to check and re-check her addition, and to question the authenticity of his IOUs.
    "That don't look like my writing," he'd say. "Where's that magnifying glass at?" Then, after he had paid with seeming reluctance and twice counted his change, he'd add: "Give me them IOUs so I can tear them up. I think some of these were the same ones you charged me for last week."
    Mother's students found out about the supply of smokes, and began patronizing the pantry. Later, Martha started stocking razor blades, which were another item Tom usually forgot to buy.
    The first premium we obtained with the certificates was a Mother's Day present, an ornate bedside lamp with a bright and dim switch. Mother used to say that Mother's Day was a ridiculous occasion, and that anyone who felt he had to give his female parent a special present, one day a year, must be trying to atone for 364 days of previous neglect.
    We thought, though, she was telling us that so we wouldn’t feel bad because we couldn't afford presents.
    It took 650 certificates for the lamp. Mother seemed startled when we presented it to her. But when she found that we hadn't spent our allowances for it, or dipped into the budget, she was as pleased as if she had invented Mother's Day herself.
    "When I think of you children saving those certificates for months, just so you'd have something to give me..." she began.
    "You don't believe we're atoning for other days of neglect, do you Mother," Lillian asked her anxiously.
    "No, I don't think that, dear," said Mother, and her voice broke. "I know how long you've been saving those certificates, and counting them at night, and... Well, I don't think there was anything to atone for."
    After that we got the catcher's mitt, an electric toaster, ice skates and skis, a cigarette lighter for Tom, and finally a bottle-capper.
    Martha decided on the bottle-capper so that the younger children could make their own soft drinks. The budget, in the past, hadn't been able to include root beer or ginger ale. But Martha knew the children were fond of soda pop, and would like to have it in the ice box to serve their friends. It still was out of the question for us to buy soft drinks at a store, because a case would have disappeared in a single afternoon. But if the children could make the drinks at home, the cost would be negligible.
    Old gin, rye, White Rock, syrup, and bluing bottles were rounded up from the neighbors' basements,