Kit Kittredge: An American Girl Page #2

Oh, what a pity. I had no idea.

Well, he lost his job months ago,|Lorraine.

They've been selling eggs just to get by.

- Will you excuse me?|You just let them go, okay?

Come on, let's go.

But my picture's not up|on the member-o-belia wall yet.

Florence.

Everybody's watching, Lou.

Betty Lou.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Come on.|- Where will they go?

I don't know.

I'm so sorry, Barbara.

There she is. How's my girl?

- Dad, Dad.|- Come here.

- What's the matter?|- Dad, look.

"The Stones lose their house."

And that's why my|favorite stories are fairy tales...

...because no matter how scary it gets...

...everybody always lives happily|ever after.

And often with some very nice outfits.

Thank you, Ruthie. Thank you.|Thank you, Ruthie.

Does, uh... Does anyone know|where Frances Stone is?

She's away.

Staying with family.

- Yeah, in a hobo jungle somewhere.|- Stop it, Roger.

Frances Stone is a good-for-nothing,|deadbeat egg seller...

...and everyone knows it.|She wore dresses made of feed sacks.

Roger. Ruthie, not another word.

Well, this seems like an opportune time|to let you know...

...that as a final class assignment|before summer vacation...

...we're going to help out|at a soup kitchen...

...where they provide food|for the poor and needy.

Uh, Roger.

My dad says that people|eat at soup kitchens...

...are hobos who feed off the government.|That's why we're in a depression.

I understand, Roger.

Therefore,|anyone who doesn't wish to help out...

...can write a 1500-word essay|on the history of volunteerism.

Roger's leading my team|for the soup kitchen.

Why, he's a nice boy.

He's a horrible boy. He just didn't want|to have to do that paper.

Mother, look. She's all alone.

Oh. Poor thing.

"Grace. Can't feed her anymore."

Can we take her?

Wha...? No.

She can be my birthday present for this year|and next year...

...and forever.

I'm sorry, sweetheart.

Wha...? What's that, Grace?

- Ha-ha-ha.|Mm-hm. Mm-hm.

Okay, I'll tell her.

She said she'll be very quiet|and only eat scraps...

- Mm-hm.|- And be the very best dog...

...you could ever hope to have.

Can we at least bring her home|for one teeny-weeny meaningless night?

How can you say no to that face?

Mother.

Please, please, please.

All right, but one night only.

She said yes. She said yes.|You're coming home.

I'll take care of you. Don't worry.

Help! Stop him!

Help, stop, stop him.|Help!

Stop him. Police.|What happened?

Did you see that? In broad daylight.

- He took my wallet.|- Are you all right?

Yes, ma'am.|- What color was your wallet?

It was red. My son made it for me.

Did you see that tattoo on his arm?

It was odd. Something like a bird, maybe.

It was so fast,|I didn't really get to see it all.

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