The second year was different. Next summer, early, when the
cherries had set their green beads and the laylocks had quit
blooming, there came two young ladies. They came of an evening,
and talked to Paw and Maw as they sat on the doorsill with their
shoes kicked off and their bare toes resting themselves.

First Paw and Maw wouldn't talk to them because why would these
pretty young ladies come mixing around with strangers? Paw and
Maw allowed they had something up their sleeves. But the ladies
patted Georgie, the baby then, and held him; and Cissy crept
closer and closer, because they smelled so nice. And then they
asked Maw if they couldn't take Cissy in their car and pay her as
much as she earned picking. She was to help them invite the
children to a place where they could be safe and happy while
their grown folks worked.

Cissy couldn't hardly sense it; but Maw let her go, because she
was puny. The teachers got an old schoolhouse to use; and church
folks came to paint the walls; and P.W.A. workers made chairs and
tables; and the church ladies made curtains. The teachers got
icebox, stove, and piano from a second-hand store.

Yet, at first, it was hard to get people to send their children
even to this beautiful place. They'd rather risk locking them in
at home, or keeping them at the end of the onion row. That first
morning, the teachers gathered up only nine children. Those nine
told what it was like, and next day there were fifteen, and by
the end of the summer "upwards of forty-five."

Cissy told about the Center as she might tell about fairyland.