He Fell In Love With His Wife by Edward Payson Roe (best books to read for students TXT) đ
- Author: Edward Payson Roe
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The two men now withdrew from the table to the fireside and lighted their
pipes. Mrs. Watterly stepped out for a moment and Tom, looking over his
shoulder to make sure she was out of ear shot, said under his breath, âBut
suppose you found a woman that you could love and obey, and all that?â
âOh, of course, that would make everything different. I wouldnât begin with a
lie then, and I know enough of my wife to feel sure that she wouldnât be a
sort of dog in the manger after she was dead. She was one of those good souls
that if she could speak her mind this minute she would say, âJames, whatâs
best and right for you is best and right.â But itâs just because she was such
a good wife that I know thereâs no use of trying to put anyone in her place.
Where on earth could I find anybody, and how could we get acquainted so that
weâd know anything about each other? No, I must just scratch along for a
short time as things are and be on the lookout to sell or rent.â
Tom smoked meditatively for a few moments, and then remarked, âI guess thatâs
your best way out.â
âIt aint an easy way, either,â said Holcroft. âFinding a purchaser or tenant
for a farm like mine is almost as hard as finding a wife. Then, as I feel,
leaving my place is next to leaving the world.â
Tom shook his head ruefully and admitted,, âI declare, Jim, when a feller
comes to think it all over, you ARE in a bad fix, especially as you feel. I
thought I could talk you over into practical common sense in no time. Itâs
easy enough when one donât know all the bearinâs of a case, to think
carelessly, âOh, he aint as bad off as he thinks he is. He can do this and
that and the tâother thing.â But when you come to look it all over, you find
he canât, except at a big loss. Of course, you can give away your farm on
which you were doing well and getting ahead, though how you did it, I canât
see. Youâd have to about give it away if you forced a sale, and where on
earth youâll find a tenant whoâll pay anything worth consideringâBut thereâs
no use of croaking. I wish I could help you, old feller. By jocks! I believe
I can. Thereâs an old woman here whoâs right smart and handy when she canât
get her bottle filled. I believe sheâd be glad to go with you, for she donât
like our board and lodging over much.â
âDo you think sheâd go tonight?â
âOh, yes! Guess so. A little cold waterâll be a good change for her.â
Mrs. Wiggins was seen, and feeling that any change would be for the better,
readily agreed to go for very moderate wages. Holcroft looked dubiously at
the womanâs heavy form and heavier face, but felt that it was the best he
could do. Squeezing Mrs. Watterlyâs cold, limp hand in a way that would have
thawed a lump of ice, he said âgoodby;â and then declaring that he would
rather do his own harnessing for a night ride, he went out into the storm.
Tom put on his rubber coat and went to the barn with his friend, toward whom
he cherished honest good will.
âBy jocks!â he ejaculated sympathetically, âbut you have hard lines, Jim.
What in thunder would I do with two such widdy women to look after my house!â
Chapter IX. Mrs. Mumpson Accepts Her Mission
As Holcroft drove through the town, Mrs. Wiggins, who, as matters were
explained to her, had expressed her views chiefly by affirmative nods, now
began to use her tongue with much fluency.
âHi âave a friend âherhabouts,â she said, âanâ sheâs been a-keepinâ some of my
things. Hiâll be âolden to ye, master, hif yeâll jes stop a bit hat the door
whiles hi gets âem. Hif yeâll hadvance me a dollar or so on me wages hitâll
be a long time hafore I trouble ye hagain.â
The farmer had received too broad a hint not to know that Mrs. Wiggins was
intent on renewing her acquaintance with her worst enemy. He briefly replied,
therefore, âItâs too late to stop now. Iâll be coming down soon again and
will get your things.â
In vain Mrs. Wiggins expostulated, for he drove steadily on. With a sort of
grim humor, he thought of the meeting of the two âwiddy women,â as Tom had
characterized them, and of Mrs. Mumpsonâs dismay at finding in the âcheap
girlâ a dame of sixty, weighing not far from two hundred. âIf it wasnât such
awfully serious business for me,â he thought, âit would be betterân going to a
theater to see the two go on. If I havenât got three âpeculiar femalesâ on my
hands now, Iâd like to hear of the man that has.â
When Mrs. Wiggins found that she could not gain her point, she subsided into
utter silence. It soon became evident in the cloudy light of the moon that
she was going to sleep, for she so nodded and swayed about that the farmer
feared she would tumble out of the wagon. She occupied a seat just back of
his and filled it, too. The idea of stepping over, sitting beside her, and
holding her in, was inexpressibly repugnant to him. So he began talking to
her, and finally shouting at her, to keep her awake.
His efforts were useless. He glanced with rueful dismay over his shoulder as
he thought, âIf she falls out, I donât see how on earth Iâll ever get her back
again.â
Fortunately the seat slipped back a little, and she soon slid down into a sort
of mountainous heap on the bottom of the wagon, as unmindful of the rain as if
it were a lullaby. Now that his mind was at rest about her falling out, and
knowing that he had a heavy load, Holcroft let the horses take their own time
along the miry highway.
Left to her own devices by Holcroftâs absence, Mrs. Mumpson had passed what
she regarded as a very eventful afternoon and evening. Not that anything
unusual had happened, unless everything she said and did may be looked upon as
unusual; but Mrs. Mumpson justly felt that the critical periods of life are
those upon which definite courses of action are decided upon. In the secret
recess of her heartâsupposing her to possess such an organâshe had partially
admitted to herself, even before she had entered Holcroftâs door, that she
might be persuaded into marrying him; but the inspection of his room, much
deliberate thought, and prolonged soliloquy, had convinced her that she ought
to âenter into nuptial relations,â as her thought formulated itself. It was a
trait of Mrs. Mumpsonâs active mind, that when it once entered upon a line of
thought, it was hurried along from conclusion to conclusion with wonderful
rapidity.
While Jane made up Mr. Holcroftâs bed, her mother began to inspect, and soon
suffered keenly from every painful discovery. The farmerâs meager wardrobe
and other belongings were soon rummaged over, but one large closet and several
bureau drawers were locked. âThese are the receptercles of the deceased Mrs.
Holcroftâs affects,â she said with compressed lips. âThey are moldering
useless away. Moth and rust will enter, while I, the caretaker, am debarred.
I should not be debarred. All the things in that closet should be shaken out,
aired, and carefully put back. Who knows how useful they may be in the
future! Waste is wicked. Indeed, there are few things more wicked than
waste. Now I think of it, I have some keys in my trunk.â
âHe wonât like it,â interposed Jane.
âIn the responserble persition I have assumed,â replied Mrs. Mumpson with
dignity, âI must consider not what he wants, but what is best for him and what
may be best for others.â
Jane had too much curiosity herself to make further objection, and the keys
were brought. It was astonishing what a number of keys Mrs. Mumpson
possessed, and she was not long in finding those which would open the ordinary
locks thought by Holcroft to be ample protection.
âI was right,â said Mrs. Mumpson complacently. âA musty odor exudes from these
closed receptercles,. Men have no comprehension of the need of such
caretakers as I am.â
Everything that had ever belonged to poor Mrs. Holcroft was pulled out, taken
to the window, and examined, Jane following, as usual, in the wake of her
mother and putting everything to the same tests which her parent applied.
Mrs. Holcroft had been a careful woman, and the extent and substantial
character of her wardrobe proved that her husband had not been close in his
allowances to her. Mrs. Mumpsonâs watery blue eyes grew positively animated
as she felt of and held up to the light one thing after another. âMrs.
Holcroft was evidently unnaturally large,â she reflected aloud, âbut then
these things could be made over, and much material be left to repair them,
from time to time. The dresses are of somber colors, becoming to a lady
somewhat advanced in years and of subdued taste.â
By the time that the bed and all the chairs in the room were littered with
wearing apparel, Mrs. Mumpson said, âJane, I desire you to bring the rocking
chair. So many thoughts are crowding upon me that I must sit down and think.â
Jane did as requested, but remarked, âThe sun is gettinâ low, and all these
thingsâll have to be put back just as they was or heâll be awful mad.â
âYes, Jane,â replied Mrs. Mumpson abstractedly and rocking gently, âyou can
put them back. Your mind is not burdened like mine, and you havenât offspring
and the future to provide for,â and, for a wonder, she relapsed into silence.
Possibly she possessed barely enough of womanhood to feel that her present
train of thought had better be kept to herself. She gradually rocked faster
and faster, thus indicating that she was rapidly approaching a conclusion.
Meanwhile, Jane was endeavoring to put things back as they were before and
found it no easy task. As the light declined she was overcome by a sort of
panic, and, huddling the things into the drawers as fast as possible, she
locked them up. Then, seizing her motherâs hand and pulling the abstracted
woman to her feet, she cried, âIf he comes and finds us here and no supper
ready, heâll turn us right out into the rain!â
Even Mrs. Mumpson felt that she was perhaps reaching conclusions too fast and
that some diplomacy might be necessary to consummate her plans. Her views,
however, appeared to her so reasonable that she scarcely thought of failure,
having the happy faculty of realizing everything in advance, whether it ever
took place or not.
As she slowly descended the stairs with the rocking chair, she thought,
âNothing could be more suiterble. We are both about the same age; I am most
respecterbly connectedâin fact, I regard myself as somewhat his superior in
this respect; he is painfully undeveloped and irreligious and thus is in sore
need of female influence; he is lonely and downhearted, and in womanâs voice
there is a spell to banish care; worst of all, things are going to waste. I
must delibârately face the great duty with which Providence has brought me
face to face. At first, he may be a little blind to this great oppertunity of
his lifeâthat I must expect, remembering the influence he was under so many
yearsâbut I
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