a. a 
 
 /,*
 
 THE SECOND MRS. JIM 
 
 OP GALIF. LStRARY. tOS ANClM*
 
 4* 
 
 Mr*. 3fim 
 
 Stcpijcn <rouratJ 
 
 litf) a JTrontispirrr 6n 
 
 (Ernest J osbcrp 
 
 Boston 
 
 * * *
 
 Copyright, 1904 
 BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published May, 1904 
 
 Colonial 
 
 Eloctrotypad and Printed by C. H. Slmonds & Co. 
 Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
 
 TO 
 
 Jat&er anU Jflot&er 
 
 2126526
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTBR PAGE 
 
 I. A LONELY OLD MAID i 
 
 II. THE WEDDIN'-TRIP . . . .21 
 
 III. " DESPERIT' REMEDIES" ... 43 
 
 IV. A CURE FOR STRIKES .... 58 
 V. A FINGER IN THE PIE .... 77 
 
 VI. MANAGIN' JIM 107 
 
 VII. A MARTYR TO THE CAUSE . . .123 
 
 VIII. A WOMAN'S WILES . . . .145
 
 THE SECOND MRS. JIM 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A LONELY OLD MAID 
 
 ,' I says, *I won't marry you.' 
 Then I went on, { I s'pose you think 
 that I'm a lonely old maid, an' you're 
 only askin' me to marry you out of 
 your kindness of heart.' He started to 
 say somethin', but I says, 'Now don't in- 
 terrupt me. You've had your say an' now 
 I'll tell you a thing or two. If you think 
 
 [ - 1
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 I'm a lonely old maid, you're mightily 
 mistaken. I guess I'll have to tell you 
 first what an old maid is. Then I'll tell 
 you somethin' about loneliness an' bein' 
 lonely, an' I guess you'll change your 
 mind about me bein' one of that kind. 
 
 " 'An old maid is any livin' thing, male 
 or female, human or horse, cat, pig, or 
 chicken, that's so finicky, so p'ticular 
 about some one little thing that don't 
 really amount to much, that he don't pay 
 no attention to some of the really impor- 
 tant things of life. Take that cat out 
 there on the fence. I always call her my 
 "old maid" cat. She'll set an' wash her 
 face by the hour while her five kittens is 
 as thin an' hungry-lookin' as rails. If 
 she'd get out an' hustle, I'd be inclined 
 to respect her an' I'd drown some of the 
 
 [ 2]-
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 kittens to help her out, but goodness, 
 thinks I, "God help them that won't help 
 themselves." I won't help 'em. An' I've 
 got a hen that takes so long to find a place 
 to make her nestj that she don't get time 
 to lay no eggs. Then there's neighbour 
 well, I won't name no names, but he's the 
 worst "old maid" I ever see. He spends 
 all his time keepin' his fence an' the front 
 of his barn an' house lookin' fine so's folks 
 will say how smart he is, but you ought to 
 see the weeds back of his barn. Guess he 
 thinks it saves plantin' a willow wind- 
 break back there. Now they're good 
 samples of the real "old maid." So you 
 see that just not bein' married don't make 
 a body an "old maid." Why, it's born in 
 'em. As the book says, "Some folks is 
 born old maids, some is born widows, an' 
 
 [3 1
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 some few," mighty few, I'll tell you, "is 
 born men an' women." I don't under- 
 take to explain that about the "widows," 
 but I guess it means that just as some 
 folks is born so awful finicky (them's the 
 "old maids"), so others is born kind o' 
 palavery, an' soft-sawdery, an' always 
 shinin' up to people. Them's the 
 "widows." Not that I'd say anything 
 against real widows. There's some that's 
 all right, but when you stop to think 
 about it, them few is the kind that's born 
 "men an' women." ' 
 
 "An' then, when I was started, I kep' 
 right on. I don't remember jes' exactly 
 what I told him, but I'll tell you as near 
 as I can. 
 
 ' 'I don't s'pose you ever thought about 
 it, but do you know the reason why 
 
 [4]
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 there's so many unhappy marriages? It's 
 all because the folks don't think before- 
 hand, an' one of the "old maid" kind 
 marries another of the same kind, an' of 
 course they can't get along together. Or 
 two "widows" marries, an' they mighty 
 soon get tired of each other's palavery 
 ways. But you won't never find an un- 
 happy marriage when two of the "men 
 an' women" kind gets married. A 
 "widow" an' one of the "old maid" kind 
 may get along all right together, but you 
 join one of the "men an' women" kind to 
 one of the other kinds, an' there's sure to 
 be a pretty hard time for the one that's 
 "men an' women" kind. The "old maid" 
 or the "widow" can stand it.' 
 
 " 'Now I'm s'prised that you didn't tell 
 me you loved me. All the others did. 
 
 [5 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 An' some of 'em swore I was the first one 
 they ever loved, an' one or two of 'em had 
 been married for twenty years, too, when 
 their wives died. Well, thank goodness, 
 that shows you ain't the "widow" kind. 
 An' you never said anything about me 
 bein' the only one that could take hold of 
 your two boys, an' straighten 'em out. 
 That's another good proof that you ain't 
 the "widow" kind. 
 
 "'Now, let's see if you're the "old 
 maid" kind. "Old maid" men, when 
 they go sparkin', shine their shoes, an' 
 grease their hair, an' get fresh shaved, an' 
 buy a new buggy, an' tie ribbins on the 
 whip, an' all the time there's buttons off 
 their vests, an' the harness is tied up with 
 string on the off side where the sparkee 
 can't see it, an' their shoes ain't shined at 
 [6]
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 the heels, an' their necktie's pinned to- 
 gether, an' lots of little things like that. 
 Now, I can't accuse you of any of these 
 things, for you look just like you did 
 when your wife was alive, shoes never 
 even 'iled, shaved once on an election 
 bet, same old buggy that ain't been 
 washed since the big rain at camp- 
 meetin', hazel switch for a whip, an' so 
 on. Well, I'm glad you ain't the "old 
 maid" kind. I'm conceity enough to 
 think that I'm one of the "men an' 
 women" kind, an' I won't so much as 
 think of marryin' one of the other kinds. 
 No, I ain't thinkin' of marryin' you. 
 You seem to be one of the "men an' 
 women" kind, too, but I told you I 
 wouldn't, an' I'm goin' to stick to it. 
 'Now I'm goin' to say a little about 
 
 " '
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 loneliness. Yes, I know I'm talkin' a 
 good deal, but you see what you'd have 
 to stand if I married you. I don't get the 
 chance very often to free my mind. 
 You'll say now that shows I'm lonely, but 
 I think you'll understand when I get 
 through, that there's a great big differ- 
 ence between bein' alone, an' bein' lonely. 
 Some of the loneliest folks I know lives 
 in the same house right in the same fami- 
 lies with a lot of others, an' some of the 
 least lonely ones lives off in some little 
 house all alone. It ain't all in bein' 
 where other folks is, unless the other 
 folks is your kind of folks. I don't mean 
 "old maid" an' "widow" now. I mean 
 the kind of folks that thinks near enough 
 like you do to make it easy gettin' along 
 with 'em. Religion is the thing that 
 [8]
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 makes the most lonely lives, an' it makes 
 most of the other kind, too. You take a 
 great big family, where all the folks 
 thinks just alike except just one, an' if 
 that ain't the loneliest place in all the 
 world for that one, I miss my guess. 
 Then you take a little home where there's 
 just one, an' he gets along well all by him- 
 self 'cause he don't have no one to dispute 
 with about religion, or folks' characters, 
 or none of the disputin' subjects. Some- 
 times you find the other kind, that can't 
 agree with himself about religion. Rob- 
 inson Crusoe was that kind. He was just 
 as lonely as could be, an' only because he 
 couldn't agree with himself about relig- 
 ion, an', as I remember, he spoiled the 
 best part of his story stickin* in his own 
 worries an' disputes with himself. 
 
 [ 9 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 " 'Now, I agree pretty well with my- 
 self, so I don't get lonely. But say, did 
 you ever stop to think about how many 
 words there is that mean lonely, an' how 
 few to say the other thing? I hope it 
 ain't 'cause there's so many more lonely 
 folks than there is the other kind. Let's 
 see, there's lonesome, an' forlorn, and sol- 
 itary, an' desolate, an' friendless, but I've 
 never heard the word yet that means just 
 the other thing. 
 
 1 'So now I hope you won't go off with 
 the idea in your head that I'm a lonely 
 old maid, for if you've followed what 
 I've been tellin' you, I think I've shown 
 you that I'm not lonely an' I'm not that 
 kind.' 
 
 "Just then he broke in to say somethin' 
 I didn't quite catch. 
 
 [ 10]
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 " 'What's that? Oh, will I go to the 
 picnic next Wednesday with you? Well, 
 now, don't it seem to you that after I've 
 give you the mitten, you'd better not 
 waste any more time on me? Time flies, 
 you know. Hadn't you better tie ribbins 
 on your whip your switch, I mean? 
 There's lots of nice girls that won't get to 
 go to that picnic so you'll have plenty to 
 pick from. You won't, eh? Well, I'll 
 go then. Come early. 
 
 " 'Oh, don't you want to take some 
 cookies to those boys of yours? No, 'tain't 
 that I want 'em to get used to my cookin'. 
 I didn't know you had spunk enough to 
 think of that. You're more the "men 
 an* women" kind than I thought. No, I 
 won't think it over. An' you needn't plan 
 to "pop" again next Wednesday. What's
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 that? You won't come unless you can? 
 Well, you needn't come then. It'll save 
 me gettin' the dinner ready. You're 
 comin' anyhow, 'cause I promised, be 
 you? Well, I won't go. Comin' any- 
 how, be you? Well, if you do come, come 
 early.' 
 
 "On Wednesday morning I hadn't 
 hardly got my work done up when he 
 drove up. I'll tell you what I said, for 
 some way I remember pretty well every- 
 thing that was said and happened that 
 day. 
 
 "Land sakes, you did come early! 
 Why, I haven't got the work half done 
 up yet. How's the boys? In mischief, 
 as usual, I s'pose. Only thing I can see 
 for you to do is to hustle 'round an' get 
 some fool girl to marry you. I'm sorry 
 
 [ 12 ]
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 I told you about the "old maids" an' the 
 "widows," though, for I'm afraid it'll 
 make you too p'ticular. Well, it's too 
 late, now. No, you needn't hitch your 
 horse. I'll be right out. 
 
 " 'Now, I'm ready to start. Did the 
 boys like the cookies? I made an e^try 
 cake, when I was bakin' for the picnic, 
 you can take to 'em when you go home. 
 What's that? Seem to like my cookin', 
 do they? Well, anybody'd like somethin' 
 to eat after bein' starved like your boys is, 
 an' without anybody to care for 'em. 
 When your first wife cooked so nice, too, 
 an' then for them to come down to hired 
 man's cookin'. An' their pa off galli- 
 vantin' 'round to picnics an' such, so they 
 don't get no care to home. No, I won't 
 marry you, an' if you say another word 
 
 [ -3 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 about it before we get home to-night, I'll 
 get out an' walk. 
 
 " 'I guess the old cow won't get into 
 the garden while I'm gone. I do hate 
 fixin' the fences when she does break 
 through, so I put it off till she eats every- 
 thing I've got. You've got a good gar- 
 den? What's that to me? Do you want 
 me to get out an' walk? 
 
 " There comes Tom White's team be- 
 hind us. Drive slow so't I can talk with 
 his folks. Oh, I can talk with you most 
 any time, seems like. Say, you drive on 
 one side of the road, so Tom can drive 
 up beside us ; then we can visit all the way 
 to the picnic. We won't meet nobody, 
 an' it's easy to pull out if we do.' 
 
 "An' we drove on to the picnic-ground 
 a-visitin' away as fast as we could talk,
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 me an' Tom White. Tom's wife never 
 was much of a talker. 
 
 "After dinner when we was settin' 
 'round visitin', Jim suggested we take a 
 walk up the ravine. I remember just 
 what I said to him an' ev'rything about it. 
 
 " 'Now, what do you want to walk up 
 that old ravine for? Must think you're 
 young again, to go climbin' over those 
 rocks. You've never been there? Why, 
 that's so, you moved here after you was 
 married, didn't you? Well, you'd have 
 been there if you was raised around here. 
 All the young folks goes. It's the worst 
 place, or best place (accordin' to how you 
 look at it) for engagements, that ever I 
 heard of. Why, I remember one picnic 
 where there was either seven or eight ra- 
 vine engagements, an' all turned out 
 
 t '5 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 pretty well, too. Oh, yes, I s'pose I might 
 as well show you the ravine. Folks will 
 talk, though. An' I walk home to-night 
 if you say a word about "poppin','' 
 remember that. How many times have I 
 been up the ravine? I don't know. I 
 don't keep a notched stick. Most always 
 went up with some one of the "old maid" 
 or "widow" kind, though. 
 
 " 'Here's the place where the paths di- 
 vide. We'll take the middle one. Don't 
 many take that, 'cause the rocks is so 
 rough. But you can help me. I want to 
 show you the little waterfall. Most folks 
 that comes up here don't see that. They 
 turn off on one of the other paths. Look 
 out for rollin' stones. This is a bad place, 
 but you would come. I remember the 
 first time I came up here I didn't see the 
 [ 16 ]
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 waterfall. Didn't know there was one till 
 I'd been up here a dozen times, I guess. 
 An' I must have seen the waterfall about 
 a dozen times since that. It's an awful 
 pretty place, all water, an' moss, an' ferns, 
 an' greenery. An' it's too cold for snakes. 
 There's lots of snakes on the other paths. 
 That's why there's so many engagements. 
 The girl sees a snake, an' the man kills it, 
 an' cuts off the rattles for her. It works 
 sure. Always fetches the girl.' 
 
 "I was talkin' away as fast as I could to 
 keep him from proposin', for I knew he 
 was goin' to, when he slipped an' went 
 right down out of sight. I yelled, 'Oh-h-h, 
 Jim, what's the matter? Are you hurt? I 
 told you to look out for rollin' stones. 
 How can I get down to help you? Why 
 don't you answer?' 
 
 1 17]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 "I didn't hear a thing, so I slid right 
 down where he was, over brush an' rocks, 
 an' all. Then I says, 'Now I'm down 
 here, can't you speak? Thank goodness, 
 you can talk. Now, where are you hurt? 
 What is it? Talk louder. Oh, don't you 
 dare to go an' faint. Here, this cold 
 water will bring you round. It's the only 
 han'k'chief I've got with me, but I don't 
 care.' He muttered something. What? 
 Your ankle? Now, how am I ever to get 
 you out of here? Well, if you ain't an 
 exasperatin' man, takin' a woman to walk 
 up the ravine, an' then fallin' over the 
 cliff an' sprainin' your ankle! Here, stand 
 up! You're shammin'! Now walk!' 
 He tried to an' nearly fell over. I cried 
 out, 'Oh-h-h, don't look like that! Does 
 it hurt that bad? Give me your knife, I'll 
 [ 18 ]
 
 A Lonely Old Maid 
 
 cut your shoe! Is that better? Here, 
 wait a minute. Give me your han'k'- 
 chief. Is that all the han'k'chief you've 
 got with you? That ain't a han'k'chief at 
 all. An' your sock! Why, you'll have 
 corns an' blood-poison, an' I don't know 
 what all the matter with you. Wearin' 
 socks that ain't got either heels or toes! 
 Well, if you go 'round like this, goin' to 
 picnics, too, with such lookin' socks an' 
 han'k'chiefs, what must your poor boys 
 have to stand? An' they'll have corns all 
 their lives if their feet ain't easy now.' I 
 was busy wrappin' up his ankle for some 
 little while an' when I got done (I'd been 
 doin' some thinkin' too), I says real slow, 
 'Do you know, Jim, if I hadn't told you I 
 wouldn't marry you, I'd almost change 
 my mind?' He said somethin' I couldn't 
 
 19 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 catch. What d'you say? You put on the 
 best pair of socks you had? Well, Jim, if 
 you think you can stand it to wear whole 
 socks, an' to carry han'k'chiefs that ain't 
 rags, why well, you can tell your boys, 
 when you take 'em that cake, that they 
 might just as well begin to get used to my 
 cookinV " 
 
 [ 20]
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE WEDDIN'-TRIP 
 
 W HY, come right in, and take off 
 your things. I haven't seen you since 
 before I was married. I guess you was 
 the only one outside of the family that 
 knew I was goin' to be. Set down, do. 
 What's that? Came over to hear about 
 the weddin'-trip? Well, there ain't 
 much to tell, but I'll tell you what there 
 is. 
 
 "You know, the day we went to the pic- 
 nic when Jim sprained his ankle or didn't 
 sprain it, I don' know which, an' dasn't 
 ask him for fear he'll think he was clever 
 
 [ 21 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 enough to fool me, well, that day was 
 Wednesday, an' when Jim begin talkin' 
 about our bein' married, I told him I'd 
 marry him two weeks from the next Sat- 
 urday, an' that would give me time to 
 pack up my stuff, an' give him time to tell 
 his boys, an' to let the hired man off for a 
 few days. It was just as well not to have 
 him around to put the boys up to mean- 
 ness an' to stir up the neighbour boys to 
 shivaree us. So I told Jim to be sure not 
 to tell him at all. An' then, too, the 
 weddin' would come at a time when it 
 wouldn't interfere with the farm work. 
 As to tellin' the boys, I asked Jim to 
 stop at my house when he went to 
 town the next Saturday, but not to say 
 nothin' to the boys about me till after 
 that.
 
 The Weddin'-Trip 
 
 "On Saturday he stopped an' I packed 
 up a fried chicken I had ready, an' some 
 cake. I didn't send the cake the day of 
 the picnic. Forgot all about it. An' I 
 had some preserves an' some other things 
 in the basket. An' I says to Jim, 'Now to- 
 morrow is Sunday. The hired man will 
 be away for the day. Now just set this 
 stuff before the boys, an' I guess they'll 
 enjoy it. Then you tell 'em that you're 
 goin' to be married, an' tell 'em that the 
 woman that you're goin' to marry sent 
 that cookin' for them to try. They're old 
 enough now to have things like that 
 talked over with 'em. Then you can go 
 on an' tell 'em that you're goin' to get 
 married on Saturday the week after next, 
 an' that you're goin' to take them an* me 
 
 [ 23 1
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 to town, an' you an' I'll be married first 
 an' then we'll all go to the circus.' 
 
 "He kicked a little at first, but I made 
 him practise till he could say all I told 
 him just as if he thought of it himself. I 
 told him, 'Don't you let the boys know 
 but what you thought of the whole thing 
 yourself. I know you wouldn't have 
 thought of takin' the boys, but let 'em 
 think you did. There ain't no reason why 
 the children should be left at home alone 
 all day, plannin' mean things to do, an' 
 doin' 'em, while their pa is off gettin' 
 married. I believe in takin' 'em along 
 an' makin' 'em have so good a time that 
 they'll look back on the day that their 
 stepmother comes as the beginnin' of 
 the best time they ever had in all their 
 lives. You can tell 'em not to say nothin' 
 [ 24 ]
 
 The Weddm'-Trip 
 
 about it, an' if they keep still, then 
 nobody won't stuff their heads full of 
 nonsense about stepmothers.' Seem's if 
 some folks don't have nothin' better to 
 do than try to make other folks' children 
 unhappy, anyway. The only reason why 
 stepmothers is hated so is just 'cause 
 gran'mothers an' hired men an' help an' 
 all the others without nothin' else to think 
 about, stuff the youngsters' heads full of 
 yarns. An' I told him as he drove off, 
 'Now, there ain't no reason why you 
 should come here again until the mornin' 
 of circus day. I'll have enough to do 
 packin' my stuff. An' don't bother about 
 the dinner. I'll see to that. Be here 
 early 'cause it's a long ride to town, an' 
 we want to get married before the parade 
 comes off, so's to have that off our minds.'
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 He kind o' kicked on not comin', but I'd 
 set my mind on it, an' so he agreed. 
 
 "I'd seen enough of stepmothers an' 
 boys in my time to know that I wasn't 
 goin' to have them boys feel toward 
 me the way some boys does toward step- 
 mothers. If they're handled right, from 
 the start, they can't help but come out 
 right, an' I made up my mind that I'd 
 do my best to handle 'em right. I was 
 sure Jim wouldn't interfere, 'cause he 
 said he was goin' to kind o' leave the 
 boys to me. They'd had a little too much 
 'pa' durin' the last year an' a half. An' I 
 went into the thing with my eyes wide 
 open. I knew if Jim tackled 'em Sunday 
 afternoon after they'd finished that fried 
 chicken, about bein' married, that they'd 
 agree, an' it's lots easier on the father, to 
 [ 26]
 
 The Weddin'-Trip 
 
 say nothin' of the stepmother, when the 
 children ain't raisin' objections. Then I 
 depended on the circus to do the rest. Jim 
 said they hadn't ever been to one, an' I 
 kind o' wanted to see it myself, so I didn't 
 see why all of us couldn't see it together. 
 An' I thought it no more'n fair that the 
 boys should have a chance to see their 'pa' 
 married. Then besides, ev'rybody knows 
 that if you really want to get to know a 
 couple of boys, all you have to do is to 
 take 'em to the circus, or county fair, 
 or anything of the kind that's handy. I 
 knew I'd know enough more about them 
 boys after that day was over to more than 
 pay for takin' 'em, an' knowin' is the big- 
 gest part of raisin', as you'll find with any- 
 thing, turkeys, or chickens, or boys. 
 "On the day of the circus, about half- 
 
 [ 27 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 past seven, the three drove up in a two- 
 seated buggy that Jim had borrowed for 
 the day. The boys was fixed up so they 
 looked pretty good, an' they was so un- 
 comfortable they could hardly set still, 
 for they had on their heavy woollen suits, 
 an' stiff shoes, for the first time in months, 
 I guess. The boys didn't get out, but Jim 
 came in an' carried out the big basket of 
 lunch an' dinner I had ready, an' then I 
 went over the old house just to look at it 
 for the last time. Ev'rything looked kind 
 o' bare, an' the boxes an' barrels made the 
 rooms look kind o' different, but I wanted 
 to say 'Good-bye' to the place just the 
 same. Then we went out an' Jim says to 
 the boys, 'She's the one that's goin' to be 
 your ma.' I'd told him not to use the 
 word 'mother' to the boys, 'cause maybe 
 [ 28 ]
 
 The Wed din' -Trip 
 
 they might want to think of me as their 
 'ma', an' of their dead mother as 'mother,' 
 an' there wa'n't no use in mixin' 'em right 
 at the start. I knew beforehand which 
 was which of the boys, Jimmie the oldest, 
 an' Frankie the other. I didn't want 
 either of the boys to ride in the seat with 
 me, 'cause it would spoil his whole ride, 
 so I says to Jim, 'Hadn't you better ride 
 in the back seat with me, an' let Jimmie 
 drive? Then we can talk better.' I knew 
 the boy was achin' to show off how well 
 he could drive, an' I knew by the way he 
 held the lines that he knew just what he 
 was doin'. Jim always drives a good 
 team. I s'pose he wants a team that can 
 make up for the time he loses with his 
 slowness. 
 
 "As soon as we was started, I told the 
 
 [ 29 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 boys they'd better take off their coats, an 1 
 shoes an' stockin's. There wa'n't any use 
 of their sufferin' all day. They'd suffer 
 enough when they got to town with their 
 shoes on. So they began to feel a little 
 more comfortable, an' I noticed, though I 
 didn't let them know I did, how they'd 
 turn around an' look at me. I didn't 
 blame 'em. I was goin' to study them that 
 day, why shouldn't they study me? If 
 you've got to live all the time in the same 
 house with folks, it's just as well to know 
 all you can about 'em. 
 
 "Pretty soon, I opened up the basket of 
 lunch. I knew they hadn't had much to 
 eat at home that mornin' 'cause Jim 
 couldn't cook very well, an' besides, they 
 hadn't had time. An' I thought they'd 
 better eat now while they was on the road, 
 [ 30 ]
 
 The Weddin'-Trip 
 
 'cause there'd be too much to see after 
 they got to town. They eat as if they 
 hadn't had a thing since the chicken I sent 
 
 'em. 
 
 "The circus was at the county-seat, an' 
 I don't believe that either one of the boys 
 had ever been to the place. All the town 
 they knew was just the little village three 
 or four miles away from their home. 
 
 "There was just crowds comin' in from 
 all directions, so the road got pretty 
 crowded, but there'd been a rain the 
 night before so the dust was laid, an' we 
 made good time. 
 
 "After awhile we got to town an' drove 
 up in front of a store. Jim wanted to get 
 somethin' before we was married, I don't 
 know what, the ring, maybe. We left the 
 boys settin' in the buggy, an' went into the 
 
 [ 31 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 store. They had plenty to see, an' Jimmie 
 had his hands full watchin' out for the 
 team. When we got into the store, Jim 
 said he wanted to go an' get shaved, but I 
 says, 'No, sir, we ain't goin' to wait for 
 that. If you can go all the time without 
 bein' shaved or havin' your whiskers 
 trimmed, you can get married without. 
 It's pretty near time for the parade, an' 
 we'll just have time to get married before 
 that. I don't want the boys to miss a thing 
 that they can possibly see to-day.' I was 
 glad he didn't say anything while we was 
 in the buggy about bein' shaved, 'cause 
 it's just as well that the boys shouldn't 
 know how their pa has to have things 
 said to him once in awhile. It kind o' 
 keeps their respect for him, don't you 
 think? 
 
 [ 32 ]
 
 The Weddin'-Trip 
 
 "The circus was to be at the fair- 
 grounds, an' the minister we went to lived 
 up that way, so we drove right up there, 
 an' was married, just the minister an' his 
 wife an' daughter an' the two boys bein' 
 there. Then they asked us to stay at their 
 house an' watch the parade from their 
 porch. It was a mighty good place, 'cause 
 the whole thing had to pass right by, an' 
 we watched it till it all got past, then we 
 went over on the other side of the block 
 an' watched it come back. I never see 
 two boys enjoy anything more than they 
 did that. We had hitched the team in 
 the minister's yard, an' after the parade 
 we drove up to where the circus tents was 
 up, to see the man walk the tight wire, an' 
 to see the girl go up in the balloon. I 
 thought the boys would go up, too, an' 
 
 [ 33 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 when we drove over in the shade of the 
 trees by the fair-ground fence to eat din- 
 ner they couldn't any more eat than they 
 could fly. I made 'em try, an' when they 
 got done there was some more of a hole in 
 the big basket of lunch I'd brought. Jim 
 had bargained with the minister to put 
 the team in his barn, so after we'd fin- 
 ished eatin', he drove off with the team 
 an' the two boys. I knew they'd rather be 
 with him, an' I waited at the gate for 'em 
 to come back. They got back pretty soon, 
 for we wanted to see ev'rything, beginnin' 
 at the side-show, an' takin' the rest in or- 
 der. We was about the first to go into the 
 side-show, an' we stayed there till we 
 heard the man callin', 'Menagerie now 
 open in the big tent.' Then we went in to 
 see the animals, an' stayed there till al 
 [ 34]
 
 The Weddin'-Trip 
 
 most time for the show to commence in 
 the ring. I had told Jim to get reserved 
 seats when we was down-town, so we had 
 plenty of time an' no hurryin', an' 'twas 
 worth all it cost extry. I thought we all 
 might as well be comfortable, bein' it was 
 the boys' first circus, an' my weddin'-day. 
 We just got into our seats when the show 
 began. Jim sat on one end of the row, 
 with Jimmie next to him, an 7 Frankie 
 next to me. They hadn't found time to 
 say much to anybody, either Jim or me, 
 their mouths was open so much of the 
 time. I had 'em leave their coats in the 
 buggy, 'cause it was so hot, but they had 
 to have their shoes on to keep from bein' 
 hurt when they was stepped on. So they 
 was fairly comfortable. 
 
 "We all enjoyed the show. It was the 
 
 [ 35 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 first big one I'd ever seen, an' Jim was 
 kind o' gettin' acquainted with his boys a 
 little. He seemed kind o' su'prised to hear 
 some of the things Jimmie could tell 
 about the animals in the menagerie. Read 
 'em in a book at school, an' remembered 
 'em, too. I thought the boys would split 
 laughin' at the clowns, an' I'd set an' 
 watch the boys half the time, an' Jim 
 some, an' the show the rest. I see pretty 
 near ev'rything, but it looked kind o' 
 different lookin' at it from the stand- 
 point of a stepmother with two boys to 
 raise. 
 
 "Finally, when the trained dogs come 
 on, Frankie could hardly stand it. I was 
 lookin' at somethin' goin' on in one ring, 
 an' Jimmie was talkin' to his pa, so 
 Frankie, when he see them little dogs on 
 I 36 ]
 
 The Weddin'-Trip 
 
 the platform in front of him, he says, 'Just 
 look at 'em, Jimmie,' but Jimmie was 
 busy, so he turns to me, 'Just look at 'em.' 
 I was busy lookin' at somethin' else, so he 
 grabs my hand, an' says, 'Just look at them 
 dogs, ma/ That brought me to, an' I 
 turned toward him, but I see he'd noticed 
 what he'd said, an' he looked kind o' 
 sheepish, and didn't look at me, so I per- 
 tended not to notice what he'd said, an' 
 pretty soon he felt all right again. In a 
 minute it slipped out again when he see 
 the dogs tumblin', an' thought I didn't 
 see 'em. I was too busy lookin' at the 
 ring at my end of the tent but I heard him 
 when he called me that. An' after that 
 it seemed to come as natural to him as you 
 please. 
 "After while, the men come 'round an' 
 
 [ 37 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 was sellin' tickets for the concert after 
 the show. Jimmie loves music, an' he 
 asked his pa if we was goin' to stay for 
 that. 'It's only ten cents, pa,' he says. Jim 
 said, 'Ask your ma,' an' Jimmie turned to 
 me, an' says, 'Can we stay for the con- 
 cert?' I didn't hear him, 'cause I was 
 lookin' hard at the girl swingin' by her 
 teeth, an' he says again, 'Ma, can't we stay 
 for the concert?' Then I told him, 'Yes,' 
 an' Jim got the tickets. 
 
 "While we was waitin' after the show 
 was over for the concert to begin, we all 
 got up to stretch ourselves, 'cause even 
 them reserved seats was kind o' hard, an' 
 when we sat down again, Jimmie was 
 next to me. He didn't have much to say 
 while there was any music goin' on, but he 
 talked as fast as could be whenever there 
 [ 38 ]
 
 The Weddin'-Trip 
 
 was anything else on the platform, an' 
 maybe it was wrong, but I was always 
 lookin' some other way or somethin' so 
 he had to say ev'rything over an' say 'Ma' 
 to catch my attention. I kind o' liked to 
 hear the sound o' that. 
 
 "Well, after while,, the whole thing 
 was over, an' though we tried to stop in 
 the menagerie tent to look at the animals, 
 they drove us out of there, an' we walked 
 down the street to where the team was. 
 The boys an' their pa hitched up, an' we 
 started home. As soon as the boys climbed 
 into the buggy I told 'em to take off their 
 shoes an' rest their feet, so they wouldn't 
 be so sore they couldn't walk on 'em the 
 next day. Frankie was ridin' with me, 
 an' Jim and Jimmie was in the front seat. 
 The horses was a little too excited for 
 
 [ 39 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 Jimmie to handle, an' besides it would be 
 gettin' dark before we got home, an' Jim 
 would have to drive then. We opened up 
 the basket, an' then the boys ate when they 
 could find time between their talk, an' we 
 had a mighty happy time for awhile. 
 Then I noticed Frankie wasn't sayin' so 
 much, an' I slid my arm around him 
 where he sat up stiff an' half asleep, bob- 
 bin' around with the joltin' of the buggy. 
 Pretty soon he snuggled down next to me, 
 an' was sound asleep, an' I'd feel him sigh 
 once in awhile, he was so tired an' ex- 
 cited. An' I could almost guess what his 
 dreams was, for my head was runnin' 
 over full of pink an' green girls, an' big 
 bears, an' weddin'-rings, an' cute little 
 dogs, an' bands, an' 'Get your concert 
 tickets,' an' 'Lemo, lemo, ice-cold lemo!' 
 [ 40 ]
 
 The Wed din' -Trip 
 
 After awhile Jimmie dozed off, an' we 
 drove on in quiet. The teams ahead an' 
 behind turned off, one by one, an' soon we 
 was left alone on the road. I was half 
 dozin' myself as I hugged Frankie up 
 close to me, an' Jim was noddin' on the 
 front seat. 
 
 "At last, the horses turned out, an' 
 stopped in front of a gate. Jim climbed 
 out, wakin' Jimmie in doin' so, an' we 
 drove up to a house. Jim got out again, 
 handed the lines to Jimmie, an' said, 
 'Hold 'em, I'll be out in a minute.' He 
 lifted Frankie down, an' the boy waked 
 up as his feet struck the ground. Then 
 Jim unlocked the door, an', scratchin' a 
 match, lit the lamp. Frankie came in with 
 me, an' with his eyes about half shut, 
 started for the stairs. As he opened the 
 
 1 41 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 door, he said, 'Goo' night, ma;' then I 
 heard him stumblin' up the steps. 
 
 "I dropped into a rockin'-chair, for I 
 was dead tired. It's no small day's work 
 for a woman of my age to ride twenty-five 
 miles, get married, an' go to the circus all 
 in one day. 
 
 "Pretty soon Jimmie came in just ahead 
 of his pa, an' he dropped his shoes in the 
 corner, threw his hat on a chair, an' with 
 the words, 'Goo' night, pa, goo' night, 
 ma,' he stumbled up the stairs after 
 Frankie. Then Jim came in an' dropped 
 into a chair, an' pulled off his shoes. 
 'Well, I guess our weddin'-trip's over,' 
 he says." 
 
 [42
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 "DESPERIT' REMEDIES" 
 
 WELL, well, I'm glad to see you. 
 Come right in an' take off your things. 
 You're well, ain't you? You're lookin' 
 pretty well. Seems like I ain't seen 
 nobody for weeks. Just the boys an' Jim 
 to talk to, now the hired man's gone. An' 
 the boys ain't been just the most happy 
 folks the last while. They've been feelin' 
 kind o' sick. What's the matter? Oh, 
 nothin' serious. But I've been settin' here 
 chucklin 7 to myself just a-thinkin' how 
 the two o' 'em got their come-uppance. 
 You know when I came here when we 
 
 [43 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 was married, the boys (they're fourteen 
 an' twelve), seemed to feel all right 
 toward me, an' called me ( Ma,' an' I like 
 'em real well. But you see while Jim 
 didn't have nobody but hired men 
 around, the boys had been kind o' 
 neglected, an' I noticed somethin' was up 
 soon's I come here. 
 
 "Pretty soon, one day I smelled t'bacco 
 on Jimmie's clo'es. The hired man wasn't 
 here then, an' the boy hadn't been off to 
 the neighbours, though one or two of the 
 neighbours' boys had been over here, an' 
 Jim don't smoke, so I knew Jimmie was 
 beginnin'. Well, I don't know as you 
 knew it, but I hate t'bacco. You knew it, 
 did you? Well I made up my mind to 
 let Jimmie break himself of smokin' just 
 as quick as I could. Didn't take me very 
 [ 44 ]
 
 Desperit' Remedies 
 
 long either to make up my mind how to 
 do it. One evenin' (we didn't have no 
 help, you know) one evenin', Jim an' the 
 boys come home from work. The hired 
 man was away for a few days. They'd 
 been at some light work that day, so I 
 knew they wouldn't be so awful hungry. 
 But when they got home, there I was in 
 the kitchen, settin' on the floor, moanin' 
 with the earache. I'd started to get sup- 
 per, an' had just got it where nobody else 
 couldn't take hold of it an' get nothin'. 
 You know how supper is, or any meal. 
 If you leave it at just the right time, 
 nobody else can't take hold an' get any- 
 thing, without startin' all over again. 
 Well, I'd just got to that time, when the 
 earache come on. 
 
 "The boys come rushin' in soon's they 
 
 [45 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 got the horses unharnessed, an' there I 
 was, settin' on the floor, with my head 
 wrapped up in a flannel rag. I must have 
 been a sight, but I didn't care, so long 
 as I carried out my plans. There I set an' 
 moaned, an' groaned, an' Jim an' the two 
 boys flew 'round like chickens with their 
 heads cut off, tryin' to relieve me. But 
 there wa'n't nothin' they could do for 
 me. There was just one thing I wanted. 
 Just one thing I knew would cure me. 
 Sweet ile, you say? No, not that. It was 
 to have t'bacco smoke blowed in my ear. 
 Now Jim don't smoke. He can't stand 
 the stuff. He got too much once when 
 he was little. 
 
 "Right while I was in the midst of it 
 came a rap on the door, an' thinks I to 
 myself, There's one of those old ped- 
 [46]
 
 Desperif Remedies 
 
 dlers. All week when I've wanted some 
 new tins they haven't showed themselves 
 an' now when I don't want nobody around 
 an' 'specially when I don't want nobody 
 to come in that can smoke, I'll bet he's 
 come.' But it was just a little neighbour 
 girl come over to borrow somethin'. 
 
 "I kept a-settin' there a-howlin' an' 
 moanin', an' sayin', ( I wish there was a 
 man around this place. Nobody to smoke 
 when I get the earache, an' it's the only 
 thing that'll cure it. If I only had a pipe 
 but, no, I can't blow in my own ear, 
 can I? What am I goin' to do?' An' I 
 kept on cryin' an' moanin'. Jim offered 
 to go for the doctor, but I wouldn't hear 
 to it, an' began scoldin' about how next 
 time I got married I was goin' to marry 
 a man, an' not an old granny that was 
 
 [47]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 'fraid to smoke for fear of smellin' his 
 breath up. 
 
 "Pretty soon I see Jimmie tryin' to 
 screw up courage to say somethin', an' I 
 says, What is it, Jimmie? What was you 
 goin' to say?' He looked kind o' side- 
 ways at his pa, an' says, 'I got a pipe, but 
 I ain't got no smokinV Well, you skip 
 out in the wood-shed,' says I, 'an you'll 
 find a bag of t'bacco hangin' on the 
 rafters, the middle one. I brought it 
 along for sheep-dip.' 
 
 "In a minute he come back with the 
 bag an 7 a corncob pipe he'd bought off the 
 hired man. The t'bacco I'd smelled on 
 his clo'es didn't smell as if 'twere very 
 strong, an' I thought he must have got 
 hold of something mild. But there 
 wa'n't nothin' mild about the stuff I had 
 [48]
 
 Desperif Remedies 
 
 out there in the wood-shed. It smelled 
 like burnin' rubber, an' ol' boots, an' 
 shoein' horses. I wrapped my head up 
 tight, except just the one ear, so's I 
 couldn't smell the awful stuff, an' Jimmie 
 started out bravely, but I wasn't relieved 
 till I see that the boy was gettin' all he 
 could stand, an' just a little more. Then 
 I come 'round pretty quick, an' flew 
 'round an' got supper, an' called 'em in. 
 They'd gone out to do the chores, then. 
 But Jimmie didn't come. What was the 
 matter, you say? Oh, I knew what was 
 the matter with him, an' soon as I could, 
 I started out to find him. 
 
 "I found him in the barn, doubled up 
 on a pile of sacks. He didn't have strength 
 enough to tell me to go away, but I knew 
 he wanted to. It wasn't dark yet, so I 
 
 [49 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 could still see what he looked like. An' 
 I knew by his looks that the earache 
 wasn't the only thing that t'bacco had 
 cured. I never see such a lookin' boy. 
 You know how freckled Jimmie is. Well, 
 all I saw was those copper-coloured 
 freckles of his on a kind o' olive-green 
 background. You've heard of people 
 turnin' green with envy. Well, Jimmie's 
 wasn't envy. 
 
 "As you can guess, Jimmie wasn't very 
 good company for several days, an' he 
 ain't acted just the same since. I think it's 
 an improvement. He never suspected me, 
 though, an' I heard him tellin' the new 
 hired man the other day that he wasn't 
 goin' to smoke. He guessed if his pa 
 could get along all his life without 
 smokin' he could. An' he guessed his pa 
 [ 50 ]
 
 Desperit' Remedies 
 
 was just as good as anybody's pa, smoke 
 or no smoke. Then I knew he'd broke 
 himself. 
 
 "I didn't worry about Frankie. He's 
 the littlest one. He's twelve. I kind o' 
 thought when the time come for Frankie 
 to learn to smoke I could let him break 
 himself like Jimmie did. If not the same 
 way, some other just as good. There's lots 
 of ways for doin' things when your whole 
 heart's set on doin' 'em. Now Frankie is 
 always snoopin' 'round. He never used 
 to come into the kitchen when there was 
 anythin' b'ilin' on the stove but what he'd 
 lift the cover to see what it was. That is, 
 when I didn't see him. Of course, he 
 stopped pretty quick when I see him. 
 
 "One day about a week after Jimmie 
 got his fill of t'bacco, Jim heard Frankie
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 tellin' the hired man that he bet he could 
 smoke an' not get sick like Jimmie did. 
 Jim told me an' I knew it was time to let 
 Frankie break himself of the t'bacco 
 habit. Of course, I won't break people 
 of their habits; if a body can't break a 
 habit himself, I ain't a-goin' to break it 
 for him. Oh, yes, I'll do what I can to 
 help him, but I won't go so far as to do 
 the breakin'. 
 
 "Well, I smelled t'bacco on Frankie's 
 clo'es one day, an' I knew the time had 
 come. So that night just before supper, 
 when he came runnin' in from the barn, I 
 happened to be in the butt'ry, so he didn't 
 see me, an' he spied a kittle on the stove, 
 b'llin' away, with the cover tight down 
 over it. I wasn't lookin', so Frankie ups 
 an' lifts the cover, an' sticks his nose down 
 [ 52 ]
 
 Desperit' Remedies 
 
 to smell. Now, of course, I might have 
 put up a sign, 'This Here Stuff is T'bacco, 
 Bern' B'iled for Sheep-Dip,' but I didn't 
 think it was necessary to advertise the f act, 
 an' besides, them that keeps their noses 
 out of narrow cracks don't usually get 
 'em pinched. But Frankie certainly got 
 his pinched, or worse, for when I come 
 out of that butt'ry, there he laid on the 
 floor, with his eyes shut, a-hollerin' at the 
 top of his lungs. I got him fixed up, so his 
 eyes quit smartin', but by that time the 
 t'bacco steam began to get in its work 
 an' he was sicker'n ever Jimmie was. 
 Both of 'em got the dose on empty 
 stomachs, too, so they got it for keeps. 
 You know desperit' diseases needs des- 
 perit' remedies. 
 
 "So I've been a-chucklin' to myself 
 
 [ S3 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 ever since, thinkin' how them boys have 
 saved me all the worry about their ever 
 gettin' to usin' t'bacco. Why, they're 
 worse than Jim, now. They can't even 
 ride to town behind a man that's smokin' 
 without bein' sick. 
 
 "You know when I first said somethin' 
 to Jim about their beginnin' to smoke, he 
 says, Well, I'll thrash it out of 'em. You 
 just let me ketch 'em usin' the stuff, an' 
 I'll fix 'em.' 'Thrash nothin', says I, an' 
 I ups an' tells him about an old neighbour 
 of ours years ago that didn't believe in 
 thrashin'. He said that there wasn't a 
 thing in this world that thrashin' was 
 good for but just to make young ones go 
 an' do again the thing they was bein' 
 thrashed for doin'. This old man had a 
 son named Joe, the laziest boy I ever set 
 [ 54 ]
 
 Desperit' Remedies 
 
 eyes on. He wouldn't work. Money 
 couldn't hire him to work, except just 
 when he wanted to. Finally the old man 
 says, 'Joe, I'm goin' to make a gentleman 
 out of you. From now on you're not to do 
 one stroke of work, an' if you do, I'll 
 thrash you.' Well, Joe forgot that, an' 
 one day when the whole farm was hustlin' 
 to get in some hay before it rained, the 
 boy went out to the field to help. The old 
 man see him at work, an' he come down 
 the field on the run. 'See here,' he says, 
 'didn't I tell you not to work? You'll 
 spoil your clo'es, an' get your hands all 
 rough. Remember what I told you?' An' 
 he took that boy over to the fence corner, 
 an' if he didn't tan his hide, I'll miss my 
 guess. But it didn't do no good. Next 
 week his brother an' him was goin' fishin', 
 [ 55 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 an' Joe pitched in an' helped his brother. 
 The old man caught him again, an' Joe 
 was sore for a week. That made Joe mad, 
 an' he began to work on the sly just to 
 show his pa he could work if he wanted 
 to. You know the old man would see the 
 work done, an' know that the hired man 
 didn't do it, an' Bill that was Joe's 
 brother didn't do it, so Joe must have 
 done it, but he wouldn't thrash him un- 
 less he caught him at it, so Joe got to doin' 
 more an' more without the old man's 
 findin' it out, an' a boy can do a heap 
 when he thinks he oughtn't to, so the old 
 man got more work out o' him than if he 
 was s'posed to be workin'. An' I guess the 
 old man got so he couldn't see quite so 
 sharp when he found the boy was really 
 workin'. But anyway he kept up the 
 [ 56]
 
 Desperit' Remedies 
 
 thrashin' long enough so Joe turned out 
 one of the best workers I ever see, an' 
 he's got just about the best-lookin' farm 
 around the whole county, now. I don't 
 know whether he keeps to his father's 
 way of bringin' up boys, or not, but he's 
 got a big family of 'em. 
 
 "Well, I told Jim this, an' he agreed to 
 let me have my way, an' so far as I can 
 see, it came out all right, for habits is like 
 horses. Them that others breaks for you 
 ain't half so well broke as them you break 
 for yourself." 
 
 [57]
 
 vt ^, ^ -^ ^ ^ . ^ ^^-^-SfaSg. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A CURE FOR STRIKES 
 
 GOOD mornin'. Thought I'd just 
 drop in an' set an' visit awhile. Jim had 
 to come to town to stay all day, an' the 
 boys is off to school, so I didn't have 
 nobody to talk to, nor much work to do. 
 Work? Why, I've got it all arranged so 
 my work ain't very heavy. We don't keep 
 a girl, but the hired man's gone now, an' 
 there's just four of us to cook for. An' 
 the boys helps. Goodness, yes. Before 
 we was married, Jim an' I talked it over. 
 Yes, I s'pose I did do most of the talkin', 
 but anyway, we agreed that the boys was 
 [ 58 ]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 to help in the house all they could, when 
 we didn't have a hired girl. Jim said 
 they wouldn't, but gracious, Jim don't 
 know his own boys well enough to know 
 what they'll do, an' what they won't do. 
 I never have any trouble gettin' 'em to do 
 things. So now, they're lots of help. 
 
 "I tell you it pays to start right when 
 you're gettin' married. That's one trouble 
 with gettin' married young, 'specially 
 for girls. They don't know what they 
 want, nor how to get it if they do know. 
 But you take a middle-aged woman an' 
 let her get married, an' she's a mighty 
 poor stick if she don't know just what she 
 wants, an 7 get it. I'll admit there's one 
 advantage in gettin' married young. If 
 you're goin' to be happy, you'll be happy 
 lots longer, but then, there's this disadvan- 
 
 [59]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 tage, if you ain't goin' to be happy, you've 
 got that much more time to be miserable 
 in. But when you get married at middle 
 age, if you're goin' to be happy, you can 
 be twice as happy, 'cause you know better 
 how to be happy, an' you know enough to 
 have an easier time, an' if you ain't goin' 
 to be happy, you won't be quite so mis- 
 erable as if you didn't know how to have 
 an easy time, an' you won't be miserable 
 so long. 
 
 "Yes, I set the boys to work the first day 
 after I came. I told Jimmie he could help 
 with the dishes an' cookin' mornin's an' 
 noons the first week, an' Frankie would 
 help at night, an' they could turn about 
 the next week. First thing Jimmie said, 
 Why, I never helped cook in my life, an' 
 I don't like to wash dishes.' Well,' said I, 
 [ 60]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 'who's goin' to do the cookin' an' washin' 
 dishes when you boys goes campin' 
 over to the lake?' Now the boys had 
 never been, an' I knew they was just crazy 
 to go. 'Oh, ma,' they says, 'can we go? 
 Goody!' It was a day's ride to the lake, 
 an' they couldn't ketch nothin' when they 
 did get there, but some of the older boys 
 of the neighbourhood had been several 
 years before, an' the young boys was all 
 crazy to go. Says I, 'What I counted on, 
 was that you an' Frankie would learn to 
 cook so that when you do go you won't 
 have to eat cold victuals all the time, like 
 the boys did last time. An' you know the 
 cook's always boss on a campin' trip. An' 
 your pa said that he thought in August 
 sometime you could be spared.' 
 
 "Well, I didn't have no more trouble 
 [ 61 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 with them boys about cookin', an' now, 
 they always do the dishes. It's all in get- 
 tin' boys started right, an' then keepin' 
 'em on the right track by keepin' some- 
 thin' ahead to look forward to. Only rea- 
 son any boy ever got off the track is just 
 'cause his folks didn't care enough, or 
 didn't have gumption enough, to keep 
 him lookin' forward to somethin' all the 
 time. It's easy enough to drive a hungry 
 cow behind a wagon-load of feed if she 
 don't get a chance to ketch up, only you 
 got to watch out that somebody else don't 
 give her the feed you ought to give her. 
 
 "Then, too, I been gettin' some new 
 things to make my work easier. Washin'- 
 machine, an' flat-irons, an' a lot of things. 
 Before we was married, when Jim was 
 talkin' about his bank-account, I says, 
 [ 62 ]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 'When you go to town for the license, just 
 bring along another check-book. Then 
 when I need anything I won't have to ask 
 you for money.' Course when I got 
 married, half he had was mine, an' I 
 wasn't goin' to skimp myself an' try to get 
 along on the butter an' egg money, like so 
 many women do. 
 
 "That's another trouble with gettin' 
 married young. The poor girls know how 
 hard up they be, an' that both of 'em have 
 to skimp an' save all they can, an' so the 
 fool wife does the housework, an' makers 
 the butter, an' tends the garden, an' 
 maybe feeds the pigs, an' always gethers 
 the eggs, an' takes care of the chickens an' 
 turkeys, an' picks the fruit, an' cans it, 
 an' maybe helps milk, an' cut an' husk 
 corn, all so's to save money, an' how much
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 does her husband skimp himself? He has 
 a hired man to help him, an 7 for his wife 
 to do the cookin' an' washin' for, an' he 
 works fourteen or sixteen hours a day. 
 An' he always has money to spend when 
 he goes to town. But his wife! How 
 much money does she get to spend? Just 
 what comes from the butter an' eggs, an' 
 that she takes to run the house on. Instead 
 of turnin' that money into the common 
 fund, an' then drawin' out what she needs, 
 she gets along on that little egg an' butter 
 money, an' the man gets into the bad habit 
 of thinkin' that's all she needs. So it comes 
 harder an' harder to get anything more 
 than that out of him. An' by an' by when 
 the children come, there's the children's 
 clo'es, an' her own, an' dozens of other 
 things, all to come out of that egg an' but- 
 [ 64]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 ter money. Well, you've seen so many 
 cases just that way that I don't need to tell 
 you about 'em. 
 
 "Now I made up my mind that I 
 wasn't goin' to depend on the egg an' 
 butter money. That was goin' into the 
 common fund, an' the household ex- 
 penses was comin' out of that same fund. 
 Oh, it was new for Jim, but you know 
 there's two times to get a man to agree to 
 things, an' of course, after he's agreed to 
 'em, it's a poor stick of a woman that can't 
 make him hold to 'em. One of the two 
 times is when he's just married. That 
 does for young married men. The other 
 time's when he's courtin'. That's the 
 time to get things out of widowers. So 
 Jim an' I understood just how things was 
 goin' to be run before I even set the day. 
 
 [ 65 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 I told him that when I said what he 
 should plant on the 'hill forty,' or the 
 'corner eighty,' he could tell me how to 
 run things in the house, an' not before. 
 Henpeckin' him? Not much! An' 
 besides, if a man is henpecked right, he 
 don't know it, an' thinks it's fun. 
 
 "Yes, both the boys is in school now. 
 You thought Jimmie wasn't? Oh, that 
 didn't last long. Come school-time last 
 month, an' Jimmie said he wasn't goin' 
 to school. Just had a girl for school- 
 teacher, an' he'd stay out an' help 'round 
 the farm, an' then go the winter term. So 
 Frankie went alone the first day. The 
 next day was rainy an' Frankie started 
 out alone. Soon's the breakfast dishes 
 was cleared up, I says to Jimmie, 'I'm 
 glad it's rainin' to-day. You can't do 
 [ 66 ]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 anything outdoors, an' I want you to help 
 me.' It was just pourin', but Jim had to 
 go to town on business, an' so we was left 
 alone. We started up-stairs to that big 
 room over the kitchen, you know. It had 
 been used for a storeroom, an' my plan 
 was to clean that. We moved ev'rything 
 out, an' then we started to scrubbin', 
 down on our hands an' knees. Queer 
 time to scrub, you say? Oh, we never 
 used to go in there, so it wouldn't get 
 tracked up, an' I says to Jimmie, 'This'll 
 make a fine place to spread out the feath- 
 ers from the beds to air, while we wash 
 the ticks.' Well, just after we got started 
 scrubbin', I had to go down an' tend to 
 my bread, an' I left Jimmie down on his 
 hands an' knees, scrubbin' away. There's 
 one good thing about both those boys.
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 Like their pa in that; if they once get 
 started doin' a thing they don't stop till 
 they get it done. I had just got my bread 
 in the oven, when I heard a shout outside. 
 I stepped out on the porch, an' there was 
 one of the neighbours' boys on horseback. 
 'Got anything to send to the boys?' says 
 he. 'I've been to town an' got to go right 
 by the schoolhouse on the way home.' 
 There's just Frankie,' says I. 'Jimmie 
 didn't want to go this term.' 'Oh, I 
 didn't know. I hain't started yet. 
 Where's Jimmie?' says he. I told him 
 he was doin' some scrubbin' for me, an' 
 you ought to have seen that boy's face. It 
 broadened out into a grin like an apple, 
 cracked in roastin'. Then he said, 'Well, 
 I thought maybe you'd been bakin' an' 
 wanted to send somethin' to the boys. It's 
 [ 68 ]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 quit rainin' now. But Jimmie scrub- 
 bin'!' An' he turned that horse an' went 
 off down that road lickety-larrup. 
 
 "Pretty soon, down come Jimmie, an' 
 I must say he'd done the scrubbin' well. 
 I had a good dinner ready, an' we had 
 a right good time there that afternoon. 
 It was rainin' harder again, an' Jimmie 
 read to me while I worked. Jimmie had 
 rather read any time than eat, but they 
 didn't have a single thing 'round that 
 house to read when I went there. I had 
 some things packed away in my boxes, 
 though, but I hadn't unpacked hardly 
 anything yet. I got out some papers, 
 though, for Jimmie, an' he reads fine for 
 a boy that ain't had no more chance than 
 he has. 
 
 "After while, Frankie come home, an'
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 if he wasn't a sight! Mud from head to 
 foot, all over his clo'es, an' all the buttons 
 off his waist, an' most of 'em off his pants. 
 I asked him what was the matter, an' he 
 said, 'Bill Jones' (he was the neighbour 
 boy that stopped at the house) 'Bill Jones 
 come to school this afternoon an' said 
 that Jimmie, our Jimmie, couldn't come 
 to school 'cause he had to stay at home an' 
 scrub the floors. I told him he lied, an' 
 he said he see him. An' then he tried to 
 lick me for sayin' he lied, but he couldn't, 
 an' he's bigger'n me, too.' 
 
 "Then Jimmie says, 'Oh, ma, was that 
 who you was talkin' to this mornin'? I 
 was goin' to ask you an' I forgot. You 
 didn't tell him what I was doin', did 
 you?' I told him I had, an' he felt so bad 
 he almost cried. Just then their pa come
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 home, an' so they had plenty to do with 
 the chores an' unharnessin', an' all. 
 
 "Next mornin' Jimmie come in when 
 Frankie was gettin' ready for school an' 
 said, 'Ma, put up dinner for me, too. I 
 ain't goin' to have the boys think I have 
 to stay at home to do scrubbin'.' I went 
 an' got out a tablet an' lead-pencil I'd 
 been savin' an' put 'em with his dinner- 
 pail, an' when he started lookin' for his 
 slate, I said, 'You'd better not take that. 
 I hear this teacher's goin' to have a class 
 in algebray. You've been clear through 
 your arithmetic, hain't you?' 'Yes, 
 twice,' says he. He likes that best of any- 
 thing except just readin'. 'Well, then, if 
 you're studying algebray, an' I guess you 
 might as well go into the class if they is 
 one, you don't want to be usin' a slate an'
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 pencil like a primer class boy. An' I got 
 an old algebray in one of my boxes if they 
 use that kind.' 
 
 "After he'd got started I called him 
 back an' told him that seein's the next 
 week Tuesday was his birthday, if he 
 wanted half a dozen of the neighbours' 
 boys to come to spend the evenin', I'd 
 make candy. I guess they hadn't ever 
 made much of birthdays. 
 
 "Then he started off on the run, to 
 catch up with Frankie, an' I guess he run 
 all the way to school, for he was one of the 
 first ones there, the teacher told me after- 
 ward, an' when she got there he was 
 holdin' one of the biggest boys down on 
 the ground (he'd finished with Bill 
 Jones) an' was sayin', 'Yes, I was scrub- 
 bin' yesterday an' I learned how to do it 
 [ 72 ]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 so well that you'll have to do a lot of it 
 yourself to get clean.' Then he'd scrub 
 the boy's face with mud, an' fill his ears. 
 That put an end to the boys sayin' any- 
 thing about scrubbing 
 
 "Well, the next Tuesday come 'round, 
 an' we had an early supper, so's to have 
 time to get things ready, for the boys was 
 comin' early. Pretty soon, they all come, 
 seven of 'em, three families, Bill Jones 
 among 'em. They'd all forgotten or at 
 least didn't say nothin' about the scrub- 
 bin'. I made candy, an' the boys cracked 
 nuts, an' I never see boys have a better 
 time. After while, Jim went to bed, an' 
 the boys was playin' games in the kitchen, 
 so I slipped away. I come back soon, an' 
 when the boys quieted down after a game 
 of blind man's buff, I says, 'Jimmie, don't 
 
 [73 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 you want to show the boys your birthday 
 present?' His eyes stuck out. 'That's so,' 
 says I, 'I forgot to show it to you. Just 
 go up-stairs. The boys can go with you, 
 an' you'll find it in the old storeroom. 
 There's a light up there.' They all 
 started, Jimmie ahead. I heard 'em all 
 talkin' all the way up the stairs. Then I 
 heard the door opened into the store- 
 room. Not a sound for a second, then if 
 Babel itself wasn't turned loose, I don't 
 know what it was. 
 
 "What they saw when they opened the 
 door, was that great big room, with a 
 little fire in the fireplace ; an' on one side 
 of the room was a bed, with a rug in 
 front. In front of the fireplace was a lit- 
 tle round table with a good big lamp on 
 it all lit, an' an easy rockin'-chair beside 
 [ 74]
 
 A Cure for Strikes 
 
 it. On the table was a book, 'Robinson 
 Crusoe,' opened at the picture of Crusoe's 
 findin' the footprint, an' on a little book- 
 case on the wall was two or three others, 
 Wood's Natural History,' an' 'Arabian 
 Nights,' an' 'Pilgrim's Progress,' an' 
 'Treasure Island,' an' some old back 
 numbers of Youth's Companion, sewed 
 together. On the floor beside the fire- 
 place was a wood-box, on one side ; on the 
 other was a box of nuts, with a hammer 
 stickin' up in it, an' an old flatiron fas- 
 tened up on one corner. An' last, but the 
 first thing the boys saw, was over the fire- 
 place, a pair of deer horns that used to 
 be my brother's, an' on 'em rested the rifle 
 that Jimmie had been teasin' for so long. 
 Below that hung a sign, 'This room pre- 
 sented to Jimmie on his i5th birthday.* 
 
 [7$ ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 "Pretty soon, I heard the door opened 
 at the head of the stairs, an' heard Jim- 
 mie say, 'Just look around, fellers, I'll be 
 back in a minute.' Then I heard him 
 come runnin' down the stairs. He come 
 runnin' across the kitchen to where I was 
 pickin' up an' cleanin' the candy dishes, 
 an' I could see his eyes just shinin', an' all 
 he says was just, 'Oh-h-h, Mother,' but 
 he put his arms around my neck, an' 
 pulled my head down an' kissed me right 
 on the lips, an' I felt more'n paid for all 
 the trouble I'd taken." 
 
 [76]
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 " /"* 
 VjOOD afternoon. Yes, I've come 
 
 to spend the time while Jim does some 
 buyin' he's got to do. Why, I ain't seen 
 you since away last fall, when I was here 
 just after Jimmie's birthday. An' there's 
 so many things happened since then, that 
 I don't know just where to begin to tell 
 you about 'em. But I'll begin with our 
 school-teacher, an' the way things has 
 been goin' at school. 
 
 "You know, we had a girl teacher last 
 fall, an' both the boys went, an' they got 
 so they liked her pretty well. This win- 
 
 [ 77 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 ter we got a man teacher, couldn't have 
 a girl 'cause the school has always been 
 so tough. Why, ev'ry winter till this one 
 for a long time the teacher's been carried 
 out, an' that always broke up the school. 
 An' I s'pose if it hadn't been for me the 
 school would have been busted up the 
 same way this winter. But it wasn't. I 
 made up my mind that our boys had lost 
 enough schoolin' just through the mean- 
 ness of some of the big boys, an' since they 
 have only seven months in the year, take 
 it all in all, there's no use of their losin' 
 any of it. An' then it ain't very good for 
 the boys an' girls, even if they don't have 
 nothin' to do with the carryin' out, just 
 to see things smashed up the way they 
 usually is. I know I don't want Jimmie 
 an' Frankie to see any more of that kind 
 [78]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 o' rumpuses. They're just old enough 
 now so they're likely to get the notion into 
 their heads that any property, just 'cause 
 it don't belong to any one man, can be 
 smashed up without it bein' wrong, an 7 
 I don't intend they'll see any of that sort 
 of thing. They're pretty willin' to stay 
 at home nights, now Jimmie has his room 
 just the way he wants it, an' they have 
 plenty to read. An' if they stay in nights, 
 then school is about the only place for 'em 
 to learn devilment, an' there's no need of 
 'em learnin' it there. I told Jim right 
 at the start that our boys was goin' to stay 
 at home nights unless we all went out to- 
 gether. It's just as much fun for the 
 young folks if they an' their folks goes to- 
 gether if only they're used to it, an' it's 
 lots better for their bringin' up. 
 
 [ 79 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 "As soon as school started, I began 
 askin' the boys about the teacher. I 
 wanted to know what 'kind of a man he 
 was. It makes lots of difference how the 
 boys has to be treated at home if you 
 know how they're treated at school. An' 
 it pays for the folks to know the teachers 
 they get for their youngsters. A real 
 good man can do more harm in a school 
 with his goody-goody ways, if the folks 
 at home don't know how to work against 
 him, than a common ord'nary man can. 
 I'd rather have a common ord'nary man, 
 bad as he may be, that's real wide-awake, 
 an' up to all the young ones' meanness, 
 than any of your good, meek, half-asleep 
 kind, that don't know how to handle the 
 boys, an' thinks they're all as good as he 
 is. The boys will get more real meanness 
 [80]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 from tryin' to get ahead of, an' gettin' 
 ahead of, this kind, than they'll ketch 
 from one of the other kind. 
 
 "An' it pays to know the teachers for 
 other reasons. Maybe the teacher will 
 get in a fix sometime an' just need some- 
 body that is on the outside lookin' on, to 
 tell him a thing or two, an' it don't never 
 hurt a young man to have somebody older 
 to give him a word or two of advice. Of 
 course, the advice has got to be give to 
 him in a nice little capsule of flattery or a 
 sugar-coated pill, like other bitter medi- 
 cines is give in nowadays. 
 
 "Well, all I could find out was that the 
 teacher was one of those young men who 
 was savin' up money to go to school on, 
 goin 7 to be a doctor, an' school-teachin' 
 was the only job he was strong enough to 
 [ 8. ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 do an' the quickest way to save up money. 
 He wasn't very big, an' he wasn't the kind 
 of a man that can bluff out a crowd of 
 great big husky country boys, so I kind o' 
 feared for him. He lived over to the 
 county-seat, an' couldn't get home at all 
 except when some farmer from our way 
 was goin' in on a Saturday. I pumped 
 the boys ev'ry night, an' tried to piece to- 
 gether all I could hear. I couldn't make 
 much out, an' so I made up my mind I'd 
 see the fellow. On Saturday Jim was 
 goin' to town to the county-seat, so I told 
 Jimmie Friday mornin' to tell the teacher 
 that, if he wanted to go, he should come 
 over to our house an' stay all night an' go 
 in with Jim the next day. I reckoned I 
 could get pretty well acquainted with 
 him in one evening an' then I wanted our 
 [ 82 ]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 boys to get to know him better. I might 
 have had him to board at our house, but 
 there's such a thing as knowin' the 
 teacher too well, an' I didn't want our 
 boys to do that, so I said I couldn't board 
 him, an' besides I didn't want the job of 
 boardin' another an' puttin' up a separate 
 dinner ev'ry day. This havin' the teacher 
 around may be all rightj but it ain't just 
 the same as bein' alone, an' the boys get 
 to knowin' him too well, an' he knows 
 them, an' they feel that he knows all 
 about when their pa thrashes 'em. That's 
 other folks' boys where the teacher 
 boards, not ours, 'cause ours hain't needed 
 it since Jim an' me was married. An' it 
 kind o' hurts a boy's pride to have his ma 
 pet him when the teacher is around, an' 
 yet he ought to have a certain amount of 
 
 [ 83 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 pettin'. So I didn't want him as a regu- 
 lar boarder, but I knew I could get to 
 know him pretty well in one evenin', an' I 
 thought after one week of school he'd be 
 about ready to let out, 'specially when it 
 was the first time he'd ever been away 
 from home. 
 
 "On Friday afternoon, Jim was out in 
 the field huskin' corn. It was the first 
 week in December, but it was pretty 
 fairly warm, an' he didn't have much left 
 to do. Got most of it done in the warm 
 weather in October, but rains come on, 
 so he had some left. I went out to take 
 him some hot cookies right out of the 
 oven. He does like 'em so well, an' there 
 he was, all alone, half a mile away from 
 the house, an' it wasn't the warmest work, 
 huskin' that frozen corn, either. No, I 
 [84]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 don't usually bake Friday afternoons, but 
 I hadn't noticed that the cookie jar was 
 empty till after noon that day, an' the 
 boys always look kind o' as if they was 
 cheated if they don't find plenty of fresh 
 cookies in the jar when they visit it when 
 they think I don't know. An' I don't see 
 no use of disappointin' 'em. They'll 
 have disappointments enough in this 
 world later on, without their havin' too 
 many now, an' I ain't goin' to disappoint 
 'em needlessly, so I baked later than 
 usual. 
 
 "It was after four before I started out, 
 an' I stood there talkin' to Jim for some 
 time, an' after while I see the boys 
 a-comin'. There was a little slender fel- 
 low with 'em, that I knew must be the 
 teacher, an' I thought to myself, 'How 
 
 [85 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 long will he last when Jack Smith an' 
 Bill Wood start in to school?' Why, 
 either one of them was twice as big as he 
 was, an' he didn't look as if he had any 
 too much strength for his size. But Bill 
 an' Jack hadn't started in to school yet. 
 They never did till after the others had 
 got nicely started. Then they came in an' 
 kept the whole class back till they got 
 ready to bust up the school, but when I 
 see him a-comin' along with my boys, not 
 lookin' much bigger or older than Jim- 
 mie, I just made up my mind that he was 
 goin' to teach out the term if anything I 
 could do would help him to do it, an' I 
 was pretty sure I could do somethin'. 
 
 "I waved to the boys (Jim hadn't got 
 away with all the cookies) an' they all 
 climbed over the fence. I shook hands 
 [86]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 with the teacher an' then gave 'em all a 
 cookie apiece, an' that boy looked as 
 pleased as our boys did. We was standin' 
 there talkin', an' Jim had just thrown 
 down the last shock when I see a mouse 
 run across the ground under where the 
 shock had been. The teacher saw it an' 
 quicker'n I ever thought he could move 
 he'd dropped on the ground in front of it 
 an' caught it. He looked up at me from 
 where he was kneelin', an' says, 'This is a 
 new one. I never saw this kind before.' 
 An' then he went on to tell an' show all 
 about the little thing, that laid tremblin' 
 in his hands. I could see the boys was in- 
 terested, an' 'specially Frankie, whose 
 eyes just shone, as the little teacher went 
 on to tell how the mice lived in the sum- 
 mer an' winter, about their nests, an' what
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 they lived on, an' how their enemies 
 chased 'em, an' before he got through, the 
 whole plan for breakin' up the carryin'- 
 out scheme came to me. The boys hadn't 
 talked much on the way home. Didn't 
 have anything to say to the teacher, an' 
 he felt a little shy at goin' to a new place, 
 but now, the three were as friendly as 
 could be, an' we all had a jolly time as we 
 went home to supper on the big wagon- 
 load of corn. 
 
 "At supper an' after supper I kep' him 
 a-talkin' on outdoor things, an' he 
 seemed to know all about how things 
 lived an' I could see plainer than ever 
 just how he was goin' to win his way 
 through that term of school. 
 
 "The next day after he an' Jim had 
 started for town, I got Jimmie to tellin' 
 [ 88 ]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 about the carryin'-out the year before. 
 He didn't see it, nor Frankie either, 
 'cause they had the mumps then, but he 
 knew all about it, an' it was just as I 
 thought. Bill Wood an' Jack Smith al- 
 ways came late in the mornin's, an' if the 
 teacher said anything, they sassed him, 
 an' finally they got all the other boys to 
 help carry him out an' to keep him out 
 for one day. That broke up the school. 
 Jimmie said that those biggest boys was 
 goin' to start a week from the next Mon- 
 day, an' so I arranged my plans. 
 
 "The next week I told Jimmie an' 
 Frankie together to ask all the boys in 
 school that was thirteen or over to come 
 to our house on Friday night to make 
 candy, an* I sent a note to the teacher, too, 
 askin' him. I didn't tell Jimmie that
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 I asked the boys so they could get 
 acquainted with the teacher, 'cause there 
 wasn't no use of scarin' 'em away. They 
 was all glad enough to come. Ever since 
 Jimmie's birthday he'd had more visitors, 
 an' the boys always seemed to think I was 
 different from their own folks. Of course 
 I was, but their folks ought to have had 
 sense enough not to let 'em find it out. It 
 don't pay to let your boys get to thfnkin' 
 you ain't quite so good to 'em as somebody 
 else's folks is to him. But most of the 
 other folks never thought anything about 
 tryin' to keep the boys at home, an' was 
 glad enough to get 'em off out of the 
 way. 
 
 "They all came, every last one of T em, 
 on Friday night, an' the teacher, too, but 
 they shut up like clams, an' so did he. 
 [ 90]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 They didn't have much to say till we got 
 to makin' candy, an' then I got him to 
 tellin' about how different kinds of sugar 
 is made. The boys got kind o' interested, 
 an' when he switched off from that an' 
 began tellin' 'em about some fun he had 
 one spring makin' maple-sugar in the big 
 woods over beyond the county-seat where 
 the wolves still howl at night, an' the 
 farmers can't keep sheep at all, on 
 account of 'em, I saw he had the boys 
 where I wanted 'em. Pretty soon he 
 mentioned the birds in the woods in 
 sugar-makin' time, an' I broke right in. 
 I hated to spoil his story, but this was just 
 the chance I wanted. I asked some kind 
 o' foolish questions. You know a man 
 never feels like tellin' a woman anything 
 until she shows how big a fool she can be
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 by askin' questions that don't mean any- 
 thing, an' then he explains in a toplofty 
 way. Well, I wanted the boys to com- 
 bine with the teacher answerin' me, an' I 
 got just what I wanted, for they all begun 
 to talk at once, an' went on namin' birds 
 that stayed all winter, an' got all worked 
 up. Then I got 'em switched off onto 
 somethin' else, an' the teacher got started 
 on that, an' they were all breakin' in an' 
 askin' questions, an' generally feelin' 
 good an' friendly when I sprung my 
 plan r 
 
 "Says I, Why, these are all new things 
 to me. An' to most of us, I guess. Why 
 can't we have a little club to meet here 
 Friday nights, an' talk over this kind o' 
 things? Le's see, there's fourteen of us 
 here. That'll make a good number, an' 
 [ 92 ]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 we can meet here, in Jimmie's room, just 
 as well as not.' Then Frankie broke in, 
 'An' we can have it secret an' have pass- 
 words an' grips.' Well, that brought 'em 
 all around. If you want to get hold of a 
 boy of the age of them boys, just get up a 
 club with passwords an' grips, an' badges, 
 an' maybe a secret whistle, an' if all the 
 boys don't fall over themselves to get in, 
 I'll miss my guess. 
 
 "So we organized the club, an' we give 
 it a name. I can't tell you what it is, 
 'cause it's secret, but we, Jimmie, an' Bill 
 Jones an' me, made out a constitution, 
 an' made nominations for the officers. 
 Maybe we did have a lot to do with gettin' 
 it runnin', but somebody had to, an' I 
 didn't want the boys to have the idea that 
 the teacher had very much to do with 
 
 [ 93 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 startin' it. We nominated Eddie Harris 
 for president. He was one of the quiet 
 kind, but I knew he belonged to the Good 
 Templars, an' so knew a little about run- 
 nin' such things. The boys, Bill an' 
 Jimmie, kicked at givin' it to him, but I 
 told 'em they had to have somebody that 
 knew somethin' about runnin' things like 
 that, an' there wasn't nobody else that 
 knew but the teacher an' me, an' neither 
 one of us could hold office accordin' to 
 the constitution, nor vote neither. I kind 
 o' thought that since we was goin' to have 
 an election ev'ry month, some of the other 
 boys might get it into their heads to run 
 for president, an' they'd think since 
 Eddie got the office by bein' a Good 
 Templar, that they'd have to join the 
 Temple an' so learn how to run things. 
 [ 94 ]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 An' there wasn't one of 'em there that 
 'twould hurt to join. If they took the 
 pledge now maybe they'd stick to it, an' it 
 would keep 'em out o' mischief at least 
 while they was in it. An' I thought 
 maybe the Temple could hold onto 'em 
 when once it got 'em, an' that was worth 
 tryin 7 . 
 
 "The constitution was adopted just as 
 we had it, an' the officers elected. Then 
 the teacher said since we didn't have any- 
 thing in the constitution about badges, 
 he'd like to furnish 'em for the club. 
 Since we were to study birds, an' such 
 things, he knew of something that would 
 be all right. It wasn't anything to wear, 
 but we could carry 'em in our pockets, an' 
 he didn't think anybody else would have 
 any like 'em around here. The boys all 
 
 [95 1
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 cheered him at this offer, an' then I 
 made another suggestion. Says I, 'We've 
 made our plans for a weekly meetin' for 
 Friday nights. Why can't we have what 
 we might call a field meetin' Sunday 
 afternoons from three to five? Most of 
 you will be through your dinners after 
 church and Sunday school by that time, 
 an' it'll give us two hours in the woods an' 
 fields, an' let you all got home in time for 
 the chores. The teacher can tell us about 
 the things we see, that we don't know, 'an' 
 we can start from here.' They all finally 
 agreed, though some of 'em thought their 
 folks might object, but I knew if the folks 
 thought they was with the teacher an' so 
 long as they wasn't around in the way at 
 home those Sunday afternoons, it 
 wouldn't make no difference to the folks 
 [96]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 where they was. Then the teacher said 
 he could have the badges ready for Sun- 
 day, 'cause he was goin' to town the next 
 day. ' 
 
 "It was pretty late that night when the 
 meetin' broke up. Must have been 
 eleven, an' I told the boys to say to their 
 folks that I wouldn't let 'em stay that late 
 again. An' I warned 'em not to let out 
 the secrets of the club an' so they all went 
 home feelin' as big as could be, the whole 
 eleven of 'em, the teacher feelin' good 
 over the different way the boys treated 
 him, an' the boys all proud of bein' in the 
 club right from the start, an' plannin' on 
 things they was goin' to do. 
 
 "All the boys was on hand Sunday 
 afternoon, an' it was a beautiful day. We 
 spent two hours in the woods, studyin' 
 
 [97]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 empty birds' nests, an' tryin' to see how 
 many of 'em we could tell by the way they 
 looked in winter, an' the teacher gave us 
 all our badges. He'd collected different 
 kinds o' coins once, an' he had a lot of 
 those old white cents with an eagle on 
 'em. You remember 'em, don't you? 
 'Bout war time, I guess. An' he give each 
 of us one of 'em. Only one of the boys 
 had ever seen one of 'em, an' they was all 
 as careful of 'em. An' some of the boys 
 was tellin' about brothers that was comin' 
 to school next week, an' wanted to join, 
 but we'd set the limit on numbers at fif- 
 teen who could vote, an' so only three 
 could get in, an' I advised the boys to wait 
 till they'd been runnin' a month or so be- 
 fore they took in the other three. 
 "On Monday mornin' Bill Wood an' 
 [98]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 Jack Smith showed up at school about 
 half-past ten, an' tried to take the back 
 seats just like they always had, but the 
 teacher told 'em if they came late they'd 
 have to take seats farther front, 'cause the 
 back seats was taken by them who had 
 been there right along. They wasn't 
 ready to do their mean tricks the first day, 
 so they took seats farther front, but they 
 tried their best to stir things up all week. 
 Luckily it rained one or two days an' they 
 never pretended to go to school except in 
 nice weather, so the teacher didn't have 
 them to bother him all the time. They 
 tried to lead the other boys around like 
 they used to, but they all had so much to 
 think about with their club plans, an' 
 showin' each other their badges, an' 
 
 C 99 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 givin' the grip, that they didn't have no 
 time to bother with these big bullies. 
 
 "On Friday night we laid out the work 
 for the club for the winter. The teacher 
 an' I had kind o' taken that in hand, an' 
 each of the boys, or sometimes two to- 
 gether, had somethin' to work up. Bill 
 Jones an' one of the other biggest boys 
 had a list of all the birds they saw in the 
 school district in December; another two 
 had to make a list of all the trees in a lit- 
 tle grove near the schoolhouse, an' so on. 
 An' the teacher told 'em that he'd met a 
 friend in the county-seat the Saturday be- 
 fore, an' that this man was goin' to s'prise 
 the club with* somethin' if they kept run- 
 nin' in good order for a month, an' did 
 good work/ 
 
 "On Sunday afternoon we had a big 
 [ 100 ]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 storm, so we had our field meetin' in- 
 doors, an' most of the boys was there. ' 
 
 "On Monday the big boys who wasn't 
 members of the club tried to stir up the 
 club members, but they couldn't make 
 any headway at that, an' they didn't have 
 nerve enough to carry out the teacher 
 alone, an' they wasn't sure the boys 
 wouldn't help the teacher instead of 
 workin' against him, so they wasn't very 
 good-natured an' handled some of the lit- 
 tle fellows pretty rough on the way home 
 that night. 
 
 "On Tuesday night both of our boys 
 come home lookin' as if they had been 
 run through a thrashin'-machine, an' 
 when they got over their excitement so 
 they could tell about it, this is what we 
 heard: 
 
 t
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 "At recess that afternoon, when some 
 of the club boys was off in one corner 
 talkin' about club plans, an' showin' their 
 badges, an' tryin' the grips, just to keep 
 'em in mind, one of the big boys that had 
 just come to school walked over to the 
 crowd of club boys, an' pickin' out the 
 .littlest one, that happened to be Frankie, 
 he began goin' through his pockets, an' 
 after findin' the eagle cent, he put it in his 
 pocket an' walked off. Now Frankie 
 ain't afraid of nothin' that walks, an' 
 while I don't believe in boys fightin', I'm 
 glad he ain't. So Frankie, just as the fel- 
 ler stepped out the door, run an' jumped 
 up on his back (he wouldn't have caught 
 him that way if he could have got him 
 any other), an down they both went, the 
 thirteen-year-older an' that big hulkin' 
 [ 102 ]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 seventeen-year-older in one pile. Jimmie 
 heard Frankie yell for him, an' come 
 a-runnin', an' one of the other big boys, 
 not club members, come, too, an' then all 
 the club boys come, an' one other outsider, 
 an' they had it hot an' heavy there for a 
 while. The teacher tried to stop 'em, but 
 there wasn't any stoppin' till those three 
 big fellows, all that there was there that 
 day, was so completely licked that they 
 sneaked off home, givin' up Frankie's 
 badge first, though, an' they never even 
 came back for their books, .i 
 
 "That fight made the folks, or some of 
 'em, at least, kind o' down on the club, but 
 all the boys came to meetin' just the same, 
 though they wasn't a very good-lookin' 
 lot, with their black eyes, an' scratched 
 faces, an' all they could talk about was 
 [ 103 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 that fight, an' I knew if the club didn't 
 hold together another day that the 
 teacher wouldn't be carried out that win- 
 ter. 
 
 "But the club did hold together, an' 
 when, after we'd been runnin' just a 
 month, the teacher's friend from town 
 come out an' give a talk on birds, with 
 magic-lantern pictures, all in our big 
 kitchen, the boys was the proudest lot of 
 youngsters. An' the next week when the 
 county paper come out an' published 'A 
 List of Birds Observed in School District 
 No. 6, Town of West Grove, during the 
 Month of December, by Mr. William 
 Jones and Mr. Henry Williams,' you 
 couldn't touch those boys with a ten-foot 
 pole, unless you happened to be in the 
 
 [ 104 ]
 
 A Finger in the Pie 
 
 club yourself, an' was goin' to have your 
 own list published soon. 
 
 "An' our Sunday field days was just 
 fine, an' I learned a lot about weeds in 
 winter, an' birds in winter, an' mice, an' 
 all such things, in winter, an' boys all the 
 time, just from trampin' 'round the fields 
 with that club, an' when along in January 
 the teacher told us one night that he 
 wouldn't be with us after that term as he 
 had a school nearer home that paid better 
 for the next term, but he'd be willin 1 to 
 come out for Sunday afternoons if the 
 boys wanted to keep up the club, of course 
 they did, so we're goin' to have our club 
 meetin's all spring. 
 
 "An' the last day of school, we're goin' 
 to have the first exhibition they've had in 
 our district since eight years ago.
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 Couldn't have no exhibition last days 
 when the last days depended on the time 
 the teacher got carried out. But now, the 
 G. O. C. of the Sixth School District, 
 Town of West Grove, will have full 
 charge of an annual exhibition to be held 
 at the schoolhouse of that district on the 
 third Friday in February, an' I wanted 
 to ask you to come out to visit for awhile 
 an' be there for that. Mr. William Jones 
 is president of the club, an' has charge of 
 the affair, an' our Jimmie is goin' to be on 
 the program. It's all a secret yet, but 
 you'll like it. Maybe I did plan it, now 
 you say so, but don't you think a mother 
 ought to have a finger in the pie?" 
 
 I 106]
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MANAGIN' JIM 
 
 WHY, how do you do? Come in. 
 It seems good to see somebody again, now 
 that Jim an' I's all alone. Oh, yes, we've 
 been that way ever since school started up 
 in town. An' we don't have the hired 
 man in the house any more. I told Jim 
 when we was first married that I thought 
 it was better to get a hired man that was 
 married an' let him live in the old house 
 on the place, than to have a happy-go- 
 lucky, here-to-day-an'-away-to-morrow 
 young fellow, that never would be 
 around when we wanted him, an' would 
 [ 107 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 always be puttin' the boys up to tricks, or 
 leadin' 'em into mischief of some kind. 
 An' when I reminded him that the boys 
 got to smokin' from the hired man, he 
 agreed with me, so now we have an old 
 settled-down married man, an' it saves 
 my work cookin' for an extry one, an' 
 then there's a good workin' woman handy 
 if I need anybody to help with the work. 
 Of course it costs a little more, an' the 
 older man maybe can't get quite so much 
 work done, but what he does do is better 
 done, an' it makes lots of difference with 
 the boys about meanness, an' gettin' bad 
 habits. 
 
 "But we don't see enough of 'em now 
 
 so we can tell whether they're any meaner 
 
 or not. They're away from Monday 
 
 mornin' till Friday night, ev'ry week. I 
 
 [ 108 ]
 
 Managin* Jim 
 
 had a nice job gettin' Jim to let 'em go, 
 but they're goin', an' he's as proud of 'em 
 now as can be. You see when the school 
 started this fall at home here, I made up 
 my mind there wasn't no use of the boys 
 goin'. Our country schools don't amount 
 to much, an' of course we can't expect 
 'em to when we don't pay no kind o' 
 wages. Teachers don't get much more 
 than enough to pay their board, an' so 
 anybody that's any good as a teacher, like 
 the man we had last winter, just quits an' 
 gets a town school somewhere. An' then 
 when boys gets along to fourteen an' six- 
 teen like Frankie an' Jimmie, they learn 
 lots more meanness than anything else. 
 Of course, they have time to, 'cause them 
 that's regular has to wait an' drag along 
 for them that stays out half the time, so 
 [ 109 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 it's just as well to get the boys into town 
 school where they'll have to hustle to 
 keep up. The main worth of goin' to 
 school anyway is the hustlin' to keep up. 
 It never does the boy any good to go to 
 school that's way ahead of his classes an' 
 has time to set an' plan deviltry. Of 
 course Frankie an' Jimmie are bright 
 enough, but they haven't had the regular 
 work like they get in town, so they'll have 
 their hands full. 
 
 "An 7 then I wanted Jimmie to see a lit- 
 tle bit of town lite so he'd feel how much 
 better the country was, an' want to stick 
 to the farm. He's just fitted for that. 
 Frankie always said ever since he was a 
 little feller that he was goin' to be a doc- 
 tor, so I knew he ought to have as good a 
 
 [
 
 M ana gin Jim 
 
 chance as he could so's to get ahead the 
 faster. 
 
 "But Jim kind o' balked when I sug- 
 gested it. Of course, we was alone when 
 we talked the thing over. We agreed 
 when we was married never to talk any- 
 thing over before the boys that we might 
 disagree on, without havin' it settled be- 
 forehand, 'cause I didn't think it was a 
 good thing for them to hear any argu- 
 ments we might have. If they sided with 
 their pa, they'd think I was stubborn, an' 
 if they sided with me, an' I knew they 
 most always would, they'd think their pa 
 was stubborn. So it was fairer to their 
 pa than to me. * 
 
 "Well, Jim didn't think he could spare 
 the boys. It would mean hirin' another 
 hand, an' then he couldn't spare the 
 
 E in ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 money. Board in town cost ready money, 
 an' he didn't have any too much. An' 
 besides, he was plannin' on buyin' the 
 'joinin' farm as soon as he could, so the 
 two boys could each have a good place 
 when we stepped out. I could see he 
 wasn't to be convinced, an' I never waste 
 words arguin'. Thinks I, Words is just 
 words, an' when you've said it, why, 
 you've just said it, an' it's got to be done 
 yet, but if you do it, why, then it's done.' 
 So I told him I didn't think he'd treated 
 me fair in not lettin' me know he was 
 countin' on buyin' that place. Of course 
 I did know it, though he hadn't never 
 told me. 'Tain't just the things that a 
 man tells a woman that she knows. If it 
 was, we'd all be the biggest know-nothm's 
 you ever see. But I wanted him to feel
 
 Managin' Jim 
 
 that he hadn't been fair, an' I told him 
 I could have helped him if I'd only 
 known it. I hadn't been near as savin' as 
 I might have been, an' ev'ry cent counts 
 twice when it comes to savin'. 
 
 "I didn't say nothin' more about the 
 boys goin' to school. I'd started the sub- 
 ject long enough ahead so we would have 
 plenty of time to settle the thing before 
 school opened, but the next day, when I 
 did the bakin' for the next week, I cut 
 down on the cake and cookies, an' ev'ry- 
 thing except just what we had to have. 
 When we came to set down to the table 
 to supper there wasn't any cake, or any 
 preserves, the first time at supper we 
 hadn't had both on the table since we was 
 married. Jim looked kind o' red when 
 I told the boys, when they asked if I 
 
 [ "3 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 hadn't forgot something that their pa had 
 just been tellin' me about some plans for 
 us all that he was makin', an' if they was 
 to go through all right, we'd all have to 
 help, an' the best way we could do it was 
 to cut down on things like cake that take 
 so much butter an' so many eggs. The 
 boys wanted to know what it was an' I 
 told 'em about the farm, not the school. 
 Frankie didn't look very cheerful at the 
 idee of havin' a farm of his own. He 
 hates farm work, an' it don't seem as if he 
 can ever do any work right in the field, 
 but you let him doctor a sick chicken, or 
 a calf, an' he's perfec'ly happy. I told 
 'em that I hadn't known till just a little 
 before about the plan, or I wouldn't have 
 been so reckless in cookin', an' I went on 
 talkin' about how nice it would be for all 
 [ "4 ]
 
 Man agin' Jim 
 
 of us to work together savin'. It wouldn't 
 be so hard on any of us that way. They 
 agreed to it, an' seemed to stand goin' 
 without all right, but Jim never seemed 
 to get enough to eat without just the 
 things that we didn't have on the table 
 any more, so he didn't get along so well 
 as the boys. 
 
 "Then on Friday mornin' Jim said to 
 me, 'Hadn't you better bake to-day so we 
 can go to town to-morrow?' I'd made 
 him understand before this that if he 
 planned on my goin' to town on Satur- 
 day, bakin' day, he'd have to let me know 
 beforehand that we was goin', so I could 
 do my bakin' Friday, though my work 
 was lots lighter now that I didn't have 
 cakes or pies to make. I told him I 
 couldn't afford to go. Says I, 'If I go
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 now, I'll have to have the hired man's 
 wife to help me get the work done next 
 week, an' we can't afford to hire.' Jim 
 didn't say no more, but he stayed to home 
 himself on Saturday an' the boys had to 
 stick pretty close to their work that day. 
 On Saturday night I counted up what we 
 saved by goin' without some of the things, 
 an' the boys looked as if they felt pretty 
 happy over it, but Jim didn't even thank 
 me for tryin' to save. ' 
 
 "Just a week from the next Wednesday 
 came the Old Folks' Picnic at the county- 
 seat, an 7 Jim, I knew, was plannin' on 
 goin'. He hadn't never missed a picnic 
 since they started havin' 'em fifteen years 
 before, an' when he mentioned it to me 
 that Saturday night, he looked kind o' 
 s'prised when I told him that I'd planned 
 [ 116]
 
 Managin Jim 
 
 on doin' some colourin' that day, that 
 bein' the only day I could borrow the big 
 kittle an' I couldn't afford to hire the col- 
 ourin' done. An' besides, I didn't think 
 we could all afford to go. We couldn't 
 go without the boys, that was understood. 
 Why, it meant the loss of the work of four 
 an' the team for one whole day if we 
 went, an' ev'ry cent counted toward that 
 'joinin' farm. 
 
 "Jim didn't say no more about the 
 picnic then, but he wasn't quite the most 
 pleasant person to live with all week. 
 Seemed as if cake an' preserves an' such 
 had been keepin' him sweet. On Thurs- 
 day mornin' he went to town on business. 
 After he was gone, I fixed up a bundle of 
 dress goods an' went down to one of the 
 neighbours. She had a waist pattern that 
 
 c "7]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 I wanted to use, an' she was pretty clever 
 at cuttin' out dresses. I always make my 
 own waists, but I can't never get the skirts 
 to hang right, so I hire them made. 
 Change work with this neighbour, or 
 somethin'. When I got the waist cut out 
 I started home, but I wasn't goin' to lug 
 that bundle back through the sun an' dust, 
 so I says, Til leave this here an' when 
 Jim goes past you send it up by him. 
 Just say there's the stuff you said you'd 
 send up.' 
 
 "Well, I got back an 7 started dinner, 
 an' after while Jim come drivin' up. I 
 went out to meet him, for I needed some 
 of the groceries he had, an' he handed 
 down the bundle. He looked at me kind 
 o' queer, an' says, 'What's this? Mis' 
 Jones said to tell you it was the goods she 
 [ 118 ]
 
 Managin' Jim 
 
 was goin' to send up.' I said, 'Oh, just 
 some sewin' I'm goin' to do.' He looked 
 mad, an' asked, 'You ain't doin' any 
 sewin' for her, be you? You needn't 
 think you're goin' to take in sewin'!' An' 
 he started to take the bundle out of my 
 hand, but I walked into the house. I 
 knew he'd been thinkin' all the way up to 
 the house that somethin' was wrong with 
 that bundle (it would take him about that 
 long to get as stirred up as he was) , an' I 
 was just as well pleased that he did think 
 I was sewin' for the neighbours to save 
 money for that 'joinin' farm, even if it did 
 hurt his pride to have his wife take in 
 
 sewin 7 . 
 
 "At dinner he didn't say no more about 
 the thing 'cause the boys was around. Of 
 course, if he'd asked me I'd have told him
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 that it was a waist that I was makin* for 
 myself, though I might not have told him 
 I was makin' it just to wear to that Old 
 Folks' Picnic. But I was, just the same. 
 But he didn't ask me, an' he kep' on 
 gettin' more an' more stirred up about my 
 sewin' for the neighbours, just to save 
 money so as to buy another farm. If he'd 
 seen the goods he'd have known, if he'd 
 been a woman, that I wasn't sewin' for 
 Mis' Jones, for she couldn't wear that 
 colour, but he didn't see the goods, an' if 
 he had, bein' a man, he wouldn't have 
 thought about such a little thing as 
 colour. 
 
 "I didn't see nothin' of Jim all after- 
 noon except when he come in from the 
 field an' hitched up the team an' drove 
 over to the neighbour's that owned the 
 [ 120 ]
 
 Managin' Jim 
 
 farm that he was countin' on buyin'. He 
 got back just before supper, an' he looked 
 a little less grumpy than he did at noon. 
 We sat down to the table, an' it did look 
 kind o' bare without cake or cookies, or 
 sauce or preserves, or anything except 
 just the most common things, that we just 
 had to have. We hadn't had any cake for 
 almost two weeks, now, an' sauce only 
 once when we had company. Jim looked 
 around over the table, an' then he says 
 more'n I ever heard him say at one time 
 before, 'Ma, I guess we might as well 
 have all we want to eat, now, again. I 
 told Hawkins this afternoon that we 
 wouldn't want his farm, wouldn't have 
 no use for it. An' to-morrow, you can do 
 your bakin' for that picnic next Wednes- 
 day, 'cause on Saturday we're goin' to
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 town, all of us, to get the boys some clo'es, 
 an' to arrange for a boardin'-place for 
 'em so's to be ready when school begins. 
 An' you can send Mis' Jones' sewin' back 
 an' tell her you ain't goin' to do it.' An' 
 then I said, for of course I had to have 
 the last word, 'Why, pa, that sewin' is the 
 waist I'm makin' to wear to the picnic 
 next week.' " 
 
 [ 122 ]
 
 ^ 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A MARTYR TO THE CAUSE 
 
 vjOOD mornin', I'm right glad to see 
 you. Thought since Jim had to come 
 over here to attend court that I'd come 
 along and spend the day. Oh, yes, I'm 
 well. You heard I was sick? Yes, the 
 report got around. I did have to have 
 some help for awhile, but we're all all 
 right again. The boys? Oh, they're both 
 well. Frankie is in the high school in 
 town. Stays in from Monday till Friday. 
 Jimmie's helpin' to run the farm. 'How 
 old is he?' did you say? Oh, Jimmie's 
 nineteen, now, an' Frankie seventeen. 
 
 [ 123 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 He wants to be a doctor, an' so we're 
 givin' him the chance. Jimmie wants to 
 stay on the farm, an' he's doin' right well, 
 too. Jim seems to be gettin' so he don't 
 care if he don't work. Talks about 
 movin' to town, an' I expect he'll want to 
 give up the farm to Jimmie as soon's he 
 gets married. 
 
 "Oh, no, he ain't thinkin' of gettin' 
 married, now. He was thinkin' pretty 
 serious awhile ago, but he's got all over 
 that. Of course, he wouldn't have got 
 married right away, he's so young, but 
 he would have got engaged, an' he's the 
 kind that don't back out of anything when 
 he gets started, so I s'pose he'd be wantin' 
 to get married pretty soon if I hadn't been 
 sick. An 7 that's what I come to tell you 
 about. It seems so good to have one place 
 [ 124 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 where I can come an 7 talk without it's 
 bein' spread all over the township. Of 
 course, it comes handy to have things 
 spread once in awhile, but this ain't one 
 of 'em. An' it's no fun talkin' to Jim 
 about it, for he don't seem to understand. 
 But Jimmie's different. He can under- 
 stand, but this ain't a subject that it's best 
 to talk to him about 
 
 "What am I talkin' about? Well, 
 ain't I goin' to tell you just as soon as I 
 can? Now I'll start at the beginnin'. 
 Last year when Jimmie come back from 
 town school, an' made up his mind to stay 
 on the farm, he found we had some new 
 neighbours. They was a whole parcel of 
 'em, mostly girls, with a shif'less, ol' 
 t'bacco-furnace of a father, an' a dragged- 
 out, washed-out, ol' mother, an' the whole 
 [ 125 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 lot of 'em went slantin' along like as if 
 they was leanin' up against the wind. An' 
 I kind o' suspected they had consumption, 
 the whole kit an' bilin' of 'em, but I 
 wasn't sure, an' I ain't yet. But the girls 
 all looked slick's could be, when they was 
 fixed up. All had yaller hair, an' pink 
 cheeks, an' blue eyes, that's bright an' 
 pretty now, but just you wait till they've 
 been through what their mother has, or 
 any other woman that lives on a farm, an' 
 they'll have that same dragged-out, 
 white-eyed look that their mother has. 
 "That's one trouble with boys gettin' 
 married. They don't look far enough 
 back even to see the mother. The girl 
 herself is the whole thing with them, an' 
 three-fourths of the time they don't seem 
 to think that 'like mother, like daughter, 
 [ 126 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 like father, like son,' an' when they ain't 
 happy after they're married, they blame 
 ev'rybody but themselves. Just s'pose 
 they was out buyin' horses. Wouldn't 
 they expect to get a crib-bitin', kickin' 
 colt if the mother was a cribber an' a 
 kicker, an' the colt had been raised with 
 the mare? An' yet they don't use half 
 the judgment in pickin' out their wives 
 that the commonest fool does in buyin' 
 his horses an' cattle. If it's good payin' 
 policy to have pedigree cattle, an' regis- 
 tered horses, an' even pigs, why, in the 
 name of common sense, ain't it a good 
 payin' policy to know what your wife's 
 folks was, whether they was the kind that 
 starved out ev'rywhere they ever lived, or 
 whether they really had gumption 
 enough to do things an' make a livin'P 
 
 1 127]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 An' you can't depend on the kind o' 
 houses the folks live in to tell anything 
 about it. Some of these here log cabins 
 back in the woods turns out better pedi- 
 greed youngsters than some of your swell 
 houses in town. You've just got to use 
 your common sense 'cause the finest regis- 
 tered cattle don't always have the best 
 stables. That is, use what's a woman's 
 common sense! Seems like that's a man's 
 uncommon sense. Well, it seems as if 
 when I get started on this subject I never 
 can stop, an' I don't get the chance to talk 
 very often on it, for Jim just laughs, an' 
 of course I can't talk to the boys. There's 
 things that it's just as well not to talk 
 to the boys, but that don't mean that you 
 mustn't impress it on 'em some other way. 
 
 [ 128 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 But I'll go back to what I was tellin', 
 now. 
 
 "When Jimmie come home, he found 
 these new neighbours. They'd moved in 
 on the next farm, the Hawkins one, you 
 know, the one we didn't buy, an' was 
 pretty well acquainted before ever Jim- 
 mie come home to stay. Then he went to 
 one of their parties, an' pretty soon his 
 little drivin' mare an' new top buggy was 
 workin' nights an' Sundays, an' even then 
 it seemed as if they couldn't keep up. Of 
 course, I knew all the time what was 
 goin' on, an' while of course I knew it was 
 one of the new folks, I hardly thought 
 that Jimmie would be such a fool as to 
 take the least likely one of the whole lot. 
 But that's just like a boy, looks is all they 
 think about. Well, of course, I'd been
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 over to visit 'em, an' I kep' my eyes open. 
 Any woman that thinks anything of her 
 sons keeps her eyes open when there's 
 girls around that there's any danger of 
 her boys takin' a shine to. An' I noticed 
 when there was any work to be done, that 
 the oldest girl was called on to do it, an' 
 that the one that Jimmie was so sweet on 
 was late in comin' down to meals, an' she 
 went 'round the house till 'leven o'clock 
 with her shoes unfastened, an' her hair 
 wasn't combed till the dinner-bell rang, 
 one mornin' I was there. I don't believe 
 in that sort of thing, an' my boys ain't 
 used to it, at least not since I've been their 
 ma, an' I knew that Jimmie didn't ever 
 see that side of the girl's character. 
 
 "Jimmie kep' on gettin' worse an' 
 worse smit, an' finally I made up my 
 [ 130 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 mind it was time to do somethin'. They 
 wasn't engaged yet, I knew that, but they 
 was just on the point of bein'. Anybody 
 with any kind o' eye can tell when a 
 young couple is just on the point o' bein' 
 engaged. I don't know just how it is, but 
 if you ever see a couple together, or see 
 one of 'em when the other is spoken of, 
 you can always tell. 
 
 "One week I wrote to my sister an' 
 asked her to come an' see me the next 
 week Thursday. I knew she'd get there 
 about ten in the mornin', an' then I began 
 carryin' out the rest of my plan. I got 
 Jim to arrange the farm work so that 
 Jimmie could be around the house for 
 two or three days just before my sister 
 come, not loafin', but workin' near 
 enough the house so he could come in
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 two or three times in the forenoon, an' 
 the same in the afternoon. 
 
 "On Monday mornin' after Jim had 
 gone to town with Frankie, I was taken 
 sick so I couldn't do anything. I rung 
 the dinner-bell for Jimmie an' then went 
 into the house an' dropped onto the 
 lounge in the settin'-room. He come in 
 on the run, an' found me stretched out on 
 the lounge, an* he had to help me to the 
 bedroom. I wasn't so sick as I was just 
 weak. I told him I'd been havin' such 
 spells for some time before, for he was 
 awful scared, an' wanted to go for the 
 doctor. Then I told him that all we 
 needed to worry about was for some one 
 to do the work till my sister come on 
 Thursday. I had felt the spell comin' 
 on, so I'd written for her. But we'd have 
 [ 132 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 to have some one to do the cookin' an 7 
 look after me a little, 'cause the men had 
 their work to do around the farm. So I 
 told him to go over an' see if Jennie 
 couldn't come over an' stay till my sister 
 come. I said somethin' about that she 
 ought to be willin' to come, an' Jimmie 
 blushed like anything. But he started 
 off, so as to have her back by dinner-time. 
 After he was gone, I got up an' hid away 
 some more of the bakin' I'd done the 
 Saturday before, thinkin' it just as well 
 that Jimmie should have a plenty of his 
 girl's cookin'. You know since Jimmie 
 had been workin' on the farm, we didn't 
 have any hired man, so I couldn't get the 
 hired man's wife to help out. 
 
 "She came back with him, an' they 
 found me in bed, restin' a little easier 
 [ 133 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 than when he went away, but it was pretty 
 near time for Jim to be home, an' Jimmie 
 had left some work that had to be fin- 
 ished, so they both had to go to work. It 
 was kind o' lonesome layin' there flat on 
 my back, but I'm willin' to suffer in a 
 good cause, an' if that wasn't one I never 
 see one. The girl had her conceit right 
 with her an' went to work to get a big 
 dinner. I could smell it when she come 
 in to see how I was gettin' along. I hated 
 to have so much good victuals go to 
 waste, an' yet I thought of my plans, an' 
 I can give up a good deal to have my 
 plans go through. 
 
 "Jim come just before dinner, an' for 
 
 a minute was pretty badly scared, but I 
 
 calmed him down, an' finally persuaded 
 
 him not to think he had to go for the doc- 
 
 [ 134 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 tor. I told him we could get along all 
 right till my sister come, an' then she'd 
 bring me 'round all right. 
 
 "Jennie looked smart an' chipper as 
 could be at dinner, an' I guess it wa'n't 
 more than half spoiled, an' besides there 
 was some of my bakin' left, but I knew 
 that would run out at supper-time. Then 
 she would have to make bread or biscuits. 
 I hoped she'd try both. I could hear 
 Jimmie come in ev'ry once in awhile 
 durin' the afternoon an' stop an' talk a 
 while with the girl, an' finally after what 
 seemed like days, supper-time came. All 
 I had was tea an' toast, an' the tea was too 
 weak an' the toast was cold. But I re- 
 membered the other martyrs, an' thought 
 how glad I ought to be to get even that 
 much. Before gettin'-up time next 
 
 [ 135 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 mornin', I made up my mind that most 
 of them that's what they call 'chronic in- 
 valids' is really sick, so sick of layin' 
 'round that they're so weak they can't 
 get up. 
 
 "I don't think breakfast went off so 
 very well the next mornin', for I smelled 
 things burnin', an' Jim come in after 
 eatin' an' he looked kind o' drawn-like 
 an' dissatisfied. I kind o' pitied him, but 
 still I thought I was sufferin' for his boy, 
 so why shouldn't he? Jimmie come in 
 several times in the forenoon, to see me, 
 he said, but he spent more time in the 
 kitchen than with me. I was feelin' bet- 
 ter in the afternoon, but thought I'd bet- 
 ter stay in bed. I had some of my own 
 cookin' where I could get at it, so I wasn't 
 so bad of! as the others. I noticed Jim- 
 [ 136 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 mie looked as if he wasn't really enjoym' 
 his meals, an' I pitied him, but I thought 
 he could stand a few days now better than 
 all his life afterward. Kind o' like havin' 
 a tooth pulled. It hurts like ev'rything 
 for a minute or two, but that's lots better 
 than havin' to stand the toothache for a 
 year or so. 
 
 "Wednesday come and went, an' Jen- 
 nie still tried to keep things goin'. I no- 
 ticed Jimmie didn't come to the house 
 quite so often. An' both him an' Jim 
 looked hungrier than ever. On Thurs- 
 day mornin' I was feelin' so much worse 
 that I had Jim stay in with me while the 
 young folks had breakfast. This meal 
 was the turnin'-point of my whole 
 scheme, so I was anxious it should go all 
 right. An' it went. When she called 
 [ 137]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 Jim to breakfast he said he was goin' to 
 stay with me, an' I told him my sister 
 would be there so he could take Jennie 
 home before noon, an' my sister could 
 cook better'n I could. 'If it was only half 
 so good, I wouldn't be kickin', after these 
 last few days,' says he. 
 
 "I had the room doors open so I could 
 hear from the dinin'-room, an' I couldn't 
 hear nothin', so I had to get up to see how 
 things was goin'. I peeked through the 
 crack of the door, an' there the two sat, 
 Jennie at the head of the table, an' Jim- 
 mie across from her. Jimmie looked as 
 slick as a tin whistle. He always did. 
 From the time he was little he was always 
 just so p'ticular. He used to ask me to put 
 on faded patches on his faded overalls in- 
 stead of new pieces, so they wouldn't 
 [ 138]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 show so. He wasn't proud, but they 
 didn't look so well. He didn't care for 
 their bein' patches, but he objected to the 
 contrast. An' he was always just so. 
 But Jennie, she hadn't half combed her 
 hair, an' her shoes was unbuttoned, an' I 
 could see two buttons off her waist in the 
 back, an' I noticed Jimmie didn't look 
 at her very often. He would try to drink 
 some of the coffee, which couldn't have 
 been very hot, 'cause it didn't steam like 
 it, an' then he'd draw a long breath an' 
 try one of the biscuits. That seemed to 
 be worse than the coffee, so he'd try some 
 of the fried potatoes. My, how mussy 
 they looked in the dish! He passed his 
 cup back once for some more coffee. He 
 liked coffee, an' I didn't see how he could 
 stand it, but I guess he thought he had to 
 
 [ 139 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 drink it anyway. An' before she could 
 fill the cup she had to brush back some 
 stragglin' hairs that looked as if they was 
 goin' to get into the cup, an' I see Jimmie 
 scowl, an' I thought what a great big dif- 
 ference it makes whether you see 'the 
 light hair fluffin' 'round her face' when 
 you're settin' beside her on a moonlight 
 night, or on a mornin' from across the 
 breakfast-table. 
 
 "Then Jimmie'd try to talk. I always 
 made the boys talk at meals. I don't be- 
 lieve in folks settin' down an' feedin' 
 themselves as if they was stuffin' the busi- 
 ness end of a thrashin'-machine. An' all 
 Jennie could say was just nothin', an' gig- 
 gle, only she didn't feel much like gig- 
 glin' now, she was so cross. Then Jimmie 
 gave up an' sat tryin' to eat an' not sayin' 
 [ 140 ]
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 a word, an' I thought again, how much 
 different the same giggle sounds when 
 you hear it in the moonlight or on Sunday 
 afternoon, when ev'rybody's careless an' 
 happy, an' when you set opposite that 
 same giggle at the breakfast- table ev'ry 
 day. 
 
 "Finally Jim made such a fuss that I 
 was afraid the young folks would hear 
 him, 'cause I wouldn't go back to bed. 
 Why, do you know, he really thought I 
 was sick all the time, an' I didn't dare 
 tell him what I was tryin' to do for fear 
 he would give it away? So I went back 
 to bed, an' Jimmie come in to see how I 
 was before he went off to work. He 
 looked hungrier than ever, an' I pitied 
 him. I almost wanted to reach under the 
 pillow an' give him some of the cookies,
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 that I had to nibble on between times, but 
 I thought it better not to. Then he 
 started off to work, an' I knew that he 
 was quite cured when I see him start off 
 to the other end of the farm in spite of 
 what his father had planned for him to 
 do near the house. 
 
 "About ten o'clock sister drove up, all 
 alone, an' she brought me 'round in short 
 order. Or at least that was what Jim 
 thought. Of course I told her what was 
 up. An' she cured me right away, an' at 
 eleven Jim started home with Jennie, an' 
 right glad she was to get away. Then we 
 pitched in, an' if we didn't have a rousin' 
 old dinner for those two men when they 
 come to answer the bell! Jimmie was as 
 pleased as could be to see me up an' 
 around. An' he looked mighty relieved
 
 A Martyr to the Cause 
 
 when he looked around an' didn't see 
 nobody but just our own folks. He didn't 
 say a word, but he didn't need to, from 
 the way he eat. I really thought he'd die, 
 an' Jim was just as bad. They both eat 
 till I thought even the table wouldn't be 
 left. 
 
 "How did it come out? Oh, Jimmie's 
 buggy stayed in the shed, an' his mare in 
 the pasture the next Sunday, an' the next 
 week Jennie went to a picnic with an- 
 other fellow, so Jimmie didn't feel as if 
 she was breakin' her heart over him. 
 
 "I tell you the best way to cure love- 
 sick young folks is just to plant 'em side 
 by side an' let 'em see each other, in fair 
 weather, an' foul weather, sun an' rain, 
 an' if they can stand that for a few days, 
 
 [ '43 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 they can stand it for a lifetime. Most 
 people can't keep on their company man- 
 ners more than a day at a time, an' after 
 that day is the time that does the work." 
 
 [ 144 ]
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A WOMAN'S WILES 
 
 W HY, good afternoon. I'm awful 
 glad to see you. Haven't seen you to have 
 a visit with, since I don' know when. 
 Two years, is it? Well, several things 
 has happened since then. Of course, if 
 you lived over in our neighbourhood, 
 you'd know all about 'em. At least the 
 neighbours there think they do. But I 
 came over just to free my mind. I've just 
 got through about the hardest plan to 
 work that I ever undertook. You know 
 how hard it is to do anything without 
 tools that you can depend on. Well, it's
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 a sight harder to do with tools that thinks 
 they know what they're doin' all the time, 
 an' you're afraid they'll go ahead an' 
 spoil all your plans. 
 
 "You know I've always taught the 
 boys to come to me whenever they got in 
 trouble. Real trouble, I mean. Oh, no, 
 I make 'em stand the little things by 
 themselves, but whenever I see 'em 
 worryin' for some little time, I usually 
 manage to give 'em the chance to tell me 
 about it, an' if I can't help 'em out, well, 
 they're pretty near past helpin', though I 
 do say it myself. 
 
 "Jimmie had been kind o' blue an' 
 fidgety an' tired-lookin' for some little 
 time. All right again? Well, you just 
 wait till I get through an' you'll know. 
 I stood it havin' him around that way 
 [ 146 ]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 till I thought it was pretty near time for 
 him to come to me. I see one day he was 
 tryin' to arrange it so we could have a 
 good talk together, so I planned for him 
 to take me to town. I don't know of a 
 better place to talk than in a buggy. An' 
 then I kind o' think Jimmie's more used 
 to talkin' on such subjects as he was goin' 
 to talk about, when he's out drivin'. So 
 we started out for town, an' as soon as we 
 got started, he begun. I don't remember 
 just what he said, but the substance was 
 that he wanted my advice about a girl that 
 he'd been goin' with, an' he thought she 
 was the only one for him, an' she seemed 
 to like him, but when he popped the ques- 
 tion she give him the mitten, an' the poor 
 boy was all broke up. He kind o' stam- 
 mered an' got so mixed up that I had to 
 
 c
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 guess about half he was tryin' to say, but I 
 knew most of it before so it didn't make a 
 difference. Of course, I couldn't let him 
 know that I knew it at all, 'cause it's just 
 as well sometimes that the men should 
 think we women's as slow an' dull as they 
 be. I kep' on askin' questions, an' he kep' 
 on feelin' worse an' worse. I knew the 
 boy was pretty badly smit, an' I thor- 
 oughly approved of the girl. Of course, 
 I knew her. There ain't a girl in our part 
 of the county, nor many in other parts 
 that I don't know. An' I know whether 
 they ever look at my boys, too, an' I know 
 ev'ry one of their families back as far as 
 when they first come to the county, any- 
 way. Why, .a mother's got to know them 
 things. How's her boy goin' to be happy 
 if she don't see that he gets the right girl? 
 [ 148 J
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 Of course, I never interfere when a boy's 
 in love, but it's just as well not to let him 
 get in love with a girl that ain't the right 
 one. I don't know what boys does that 
 ain't got no mothers, or is so far away 
 from 'em that the mothers can't know the 
 girls the boy knows. But usually, if the 
 boy is right smart, he'll look around an' 
 find a second mother, who'll kind o' take 
 the place of the one that's gone, or ain't 
 there, an' help him out when he needs 
 help. 
 
 "As I was sayin', I knew the girl. I'd 
 been to a picnic once where she was. Pic- 
 nics? Of course we go to picnics, as long 
 as we can stand to ride in rockin'-chairs 
 in the backs of wagons, or can stand to be 
 up an' dressed long enough to get to the 
 picnic place an' back, an' I have heard of 
 
 [ '49 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 one old man who always had a cot took 
 along in the back of the wagon, so, if he 
 had to, he could lie down all the way 
 home. What's picnics for but to go to? 
 An' do you think the young folks is goin' 
 to have all the fun? Well seems as if 
 I couldn't stick to what I'm tellin' to-day 
 to save my neck. One reason's 'cause I'm 
 feelin' so good. Why? Oh, just you wait 
 till I get done, an' you'll know. 
 
 "Well, at this picnic that I was at, this 
 girl that Jimmie liked so well started in 
 gettin' the tables set for dinner. I could 
 see by her business-like way that she knew 
 what she was doin'. I'd never met her 
 before, but I knew her folks back for 
 three generations. She took right hold, 
 an' she ran things. She didn't boss 'round. 
 My, no! That ain't the way to run things! 
 [ '50 ]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 She just started the poor sticks that wasn't 
 any good at helpin' off after water an' 
 ferns to decorate the table, she said. I 
 knew that it was just to keep 'em out of 
 the way. An' the worst old crank in the 
 lot she got to makin' sandwiches. I heard 
 her tell this one that she could cut the 
 nicest, thinnest, even slices, an' that old 
 crank just swallowed it all in, an' believed 
 it. Catch anybody gettin' 'round me that 
 way. She just kept things goin' that way 
 till she had the dinner all fixed, an' the 
 folks down to the table, an' she played 
 those folks off against each other (the old 
 crabbed ones, I mean), till she got 'em all 
 seated 'round the table-cloth, so that each 
 one thought he was the one person in that 
 crowd that was bein' honoured by the way 
 the seats was placed.
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 "I saw she had her eye on Jimmie, so 
 as soon as dinner was over, an' I heard 
 her say, Well, I helped get the dinner on. 
 Somebody else can get it picked up,' I 
 calls Jimmie an' says, 'I want some of that 
 peppermint that's growin' down by the 
 spring in the next pasture. Will you get 
 me some?' He looked kind o' as if he 
 had some other plans, but he said he 
 would. I thought it just as well that she 
 shouldn't think she could whistle, an' 
 have Jimmie come, like as if he was a 
 puppy. 
 
 "I saw him start off, an' then I got to 
 visitin'. There was some folks that lived 
 over where I used to, an' I had about 
 twenty years of ketchin' up to do, an' I 
 had to hear all about all the folks that 
 had died, an' got married, an' all, since 
 [ 152 ]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 I'd left there. Then one old man got 
 started on a long-winded yarn (I thought 
 nobody else would ever get a chance to 
 talk again) an' I began thinkin' about 
 how that girl, after she'd got the dinner, 
 just walked out an' left the rest to do their 
 share. An' I made up my mind then an' 
 there that she was the right kind. There's 
 the awfully willin' kind that'll work an' 
 work an 7 never seem to know when 
 they've got their share done. Then 
 there's the kind that knows when they've 
 done their share, an' stops when they get 
 it done. That's the kind I like. I believe 
 it's as wrong to do more than your share 
 of work as it is to shirk your share. One 
 way, you cheat somebody else out of the 
 chance to do their share, an' the other you 
 force somebody else to do your share. 
 [ 'S3 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 An' I don't know but cheatin' is the worst 
 of the two. I know I'd rather do the 
 shirkin'. An' I could see that she knew 
 when she'd done her share. 
 
 "Come time to start gettin' ready to go 
 home, an' somebody began yellin' for the 
 young folks to come back. We all come 
 in wagon-loads, so there wasn't to be any 
 leavin' the young folks to come home in 
 their buggies when they got ready, an' be- 
 sides most of us had our chores to do. 
 Well, I begun to look around for Jimmie. 
 I never needed to look for Jim. If he 
 ever even got out from under my feet, I 
 was glad enough. Frankie was in town, 
 in the doctor's office studyin'. Pretty soon 
 I see Jimmie comin' up the hill, an' who 
 should be with him but that girl, an' as 
 I live, he didn't have a sprig of pepper- 
 
 [ 154]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 mint. I didn't say anything when he 
 come up, but that girl, she looked at me 
 kind o' sassy like, an' I could have 
 hugged her right then an' there, when she 
 said, 'I guess Jimmie forgot all about the 
 peppermint, but here's some I brought 
 for you,' an' she pulled out from the front 
 of her shirt-waist a little smitch with 
 about three leaves, an' handed it to me. 
 Jimmie didn't have nothin' to say all the 
 way home, an' he'd shut up like a clam 
 if I so much as mentioned peppermint 
 for awhile. 
 
 "So you see I knew the girl, an' I felt 
 as bad as Jimmie did about it, only I 
 knew it was the best thing for him that 
 she wouldn't have him first askin'. It's 
 lots more worth while havin 7 anything if 
 you have to work an' scheme an' contrive 
 
 [ 155 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 for a year or so gettin' it, than if it falls 
 into your arms first thing. 
 
 "I told Jimmie that the best thing he 
 could do was to keep away from her. Of 
 course, he didn't want to. I told him, of 
 course, that I thought there was nicer 
 girls, an' girls that would make him bet- 
 ter wives, an' that he ought to remember 
 that he was goin' to have the farm, an' 
 that he'd be one of the best catches in the 
 county, so he ought to look around, an' 
 not get snapped up by somebody that 
 didn't have anything at all. Maybe I 
 stretched the truth, when I said what I 
 did about better wives, an' nicer girls, but 
 if a mother ain't got the right to stretch 
 the truth for her boy's sake, who has, I'd 
 like to know ? 
 
 "Then I began real serious-like askin' 
 [ 156 ]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 him if he'd ever stopped to think what it 
 means to get married, an' to give up all 
 the flirtations with other girls, an' just 
 stick to one. An' if he thought this girl 
 was the one girl that he'd like to set down 
 to breakfast with, an' dinner an' supper, 
 too, for the rest of his life. 'Just think,' 
 says I, 'there's three hundred an' sixty- 
 five days in a year, an' three meals in the 
 day, an' you'll live at least fifty years, so 
 you'll have to set down to the table with 
 her just about, let me see, fifty times 
 three hundred an' sixty-five, is about 
 eighteen thousand, an' three meals a day 
 is about somethin' over fifty thousand.' 
 I'd worked it out beforehand, so I had it 
 all ready. I watched him close when I 
 said that about settin' down to the break- 
 fast-table, but he didn't seem to suspec' 
 
 [ 157]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 nothin', so I went on. I talked pretty 
 plain to him. It was right I should. I 
 owed it to the boy an' to myself to do it. 
 'An' say the first three hundred an' sixty- 
 five days, there'll be just you two at the 
 breakfast-table, if you don't have no 
 hired man boardin' with you, an' after 
 that, there'll be a new little face ev'ry 
 year or so, an 7 some of the faces will be 
 like yours an' some like hers, an' there'll 
 be sickness, an' sorrow, an' some happi- 
 ness mixed in with it. Maybe a 
 good deal of happiness if she's the 
 right one, but there'll be mighty little 
 if she's the wrong one.' An' all through 
 it Jimmie was as solemn as an owl, an' 
 said when I got done, 'Mother' (he's 
 called me mother most always since 
 he was fifteen), 'I've thought out all that, 
 [ 158 ]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 an' there's just one girl that I want, an' 
 I'm goin' to have her if I can get her, an' 
 if you can help me, all right, I want you 
 to do it, but if you can't, I'll go it alone, 
 but I'm goin' to keep on tryin'.' ' 
 
 "Well, when I see he was in earnest, I 
 told him I'd help him all I could, an' told 
 him I thought he might make his plans to 
 be married Christmas time, but not to say 
 nothin' about it to nobody. Only one 
 thing he must do, he must keep away 
 from the girl, an' if he happened to meet 
 her, he must act kind o' cool, an' as if he 
 thought he could stand it if she didn't care 
 for him. He almost refused, but I says, 
 'All right, then, no weddin' for Christ- 
 mas,' an' then he come 'round, mighty 
 quick. Only he said he didn't think he 
 could act that way, an' I told him it was a 
 
 [ 159 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 case of got-to, nothin' else. Seems so 
 queer to me that men can't act an' put on 
 as if they was just the exact opposite from 
 what they is, when a woman has to do it 
 all the time. 
 
 "He seemed to feel lots cheered by our 
 ride, an' the next Sunday afternoon I 
 sent him away over to the other side of 
 the county. No special errand, but 
 there wa'n't no use his hangin' 'round 
 that girl, an' the drive wouldn't hurt him. 
 Of course, he thought the errand was a 
 do-or-die matter, or he wouldn't have 
 felt like goin'. 
 
 "On Tuesday the next week I put on 
 my things an' went over to one of the 
 neighbours, that knew this girl's folks 
 pretty well, related some way, I guess. I 
 just dropped in to visit awhile, an' to get 
 [ 160 ]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 a pattern for a new kind of apron she had, 
 an' of course I wanted to start the good 
 work. Now I've always thought this 
 neighbour was a good spreader. Just as 
 you're the other kind. When I want a 
 thing kept, an' I'm pretty near bustin' 
 holdin' it in, I come over an' tell you, but 
 when I want a thing spread, an' well 
 spread, an' spread without bein' mixed 
 in the process, I go to her. She tells 
 ev'rything, but she tells it straight. If 
 I want the thing well mixed an' stretched 
 before it's spread, I go to another neigh- 
 bour. She couldn't tell anythin' straight 
 if it was only two words. Well, we got to 
 talkin', an' she happened to mention the 
 girl, an' said somethin' about Jimmie's 
 goin' with her, an' I says, kind o' careless 
 like, 'Oh, he ain't goin' with her any 
 [ 161 ]
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 more. An' do you know, I don't care if 
 he don't go with her? She's a nice enough 
 girl, but well, I've got some other plans 
 for Jimmie.' There was a new family 
 moved into the township over east, an' I 
 knew she'd think I was thinkin' about one 
 of them girls. The next day I sent Jim- 
 mie over to the new family's on an 
 errand, an' the day after that my 
 spreadin' neighbour hitched up an' drove 
 over to where the girl lived that Jimmie 
 wanted so bad. 
 
 "Well, there was a picnic the next 
 week, an' Jimmie took one of the new 
 family's girls, as I'd told him to. He 
 didn't have a good time, but what's one 
 picnic more or less, when there's a life- 
 time's happiness at stake? The next week 
 there was another picnic an' the girl was 
 [ 162 ]
 
 A Woman's Wiles 
 
 there. Jimmie had gone with me, but 
 he got away durin' the afternoon. I went 
 down after some of that peppermint that 
 Jimmie hadn't got for me the time be- 
 fore, an' while I was comin' back (I was 
 alone, havin' managed to get away from 
 Jim for a little while, though he did look 
 kind o' lost without me), who should I 
 meet but Jimmie an' his girl, an' her hair 
 was kind o' mussed, an' her cheeks was so 
 red, an' Jimmie's eyes twinkled so, an' yet 
 he looked so sheepish, that I asked just 
 this way, When's it goin' to be?' An' 
 Jimmie burst out, 'Christmas.' I sent 
 Jimmie on ahead tellin' him I had a few 
 things to say to the girl, an 7 while we was 
 talkin', she says, 'The only reason I give 
 him the mitten the first time he asked me 
 was just 'cause you folks was so well off,
 
 The Second Mrs. Jim 
 
 an' I ain't got nothin', an' I was afraid 
 you'd be throwin' that up to Jimmie all 
 the time when we was married. But 
 when you told Cousin Jane what you did 
 about me, that made me mad, an' I made 
 up my mind to get him in spite of you.' 
 Then I laughed, an' said, 'Well, I'll try to 
 get along with you for Jimmie's sake.' 
 
 "An' that's why I come over to-day. 
 We want you to come to the weddin' 
 Christmas. I know it's a long time 
 ahead, but it's the last big doin's we'll be 
 havin' on the old place, for Jim an' Fs 
 goin' to move to town the first of the year 
 so that Frankie can have somebody to 
 look out for him." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 [ 164 ]
 
 L. C. Page and Company's 
 
 Announcement List 
 
 of New Fiction 
 
 The Mystery of Murray Davenport. By 
 
 ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS, author of "An Enemy to 
 the King," " Philip Winwood," etc. 
 
 Library 12010, cloth, with six full-page illustrations by H. C. 
 Edwards $1.50 
 
 In his latest novel, Mr. Stephens has made a radical de- 
 parture from the themes of his previous successes. Turning 
 from past days and distant scenes, he has taken up American 
 life of to-day as his new field, therein proving himself equally 
 capable. Original in its conception, striking in its psychologic 
 interest, and with a most perplexing love problem, " The 
 Mystery of Murray Davenport " is the most vital and absorb- 
 ing of all Mr. Stephens's novels, and will add not a little to 
 his reputation. 
 
 " This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. 
 Those familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of 
 this praise, which is generous." Buffalo News. 
 
 " Mr. Stephens won a host of friends through his earlier volumes, 
 but we think he will do still better work in his new field if the 
 present volume is a criterion." W. Y. Com. Advertiser. 
 
 The Daughter of the Dawn. By R. HODDER. 
 
 With 12 full-page illustrations by Harold Piffard. 
 Library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . . . $1.50 
 This is a powerful story of adventure and mystery, its sce.e 
 New Zealand. In sustained interest and novel plot, it recalls 
 Rider Haggard's " King Solomon's Mines," and " She," but 
 the reader will find an added interest due to the apparent 
 reality with which the author succeeds in investing the sensa- 
 tional incidents of his plot.
 
 L. C. PAGE AND COMPANYS 
 
 The Spoilsmen. By ELLIOTT FLOWER, author of 
 " Policeman Flynn," etc. 
 Library 1 2mo, cloth $1.50 
 
 This is a story of municipal politics, depicting conditions 
 common to practically all large cities. The political methods 
 employed, however, are in most instances taken from the 
 actual experiences of men who have served the public in some 
 capacity or other, and the stories told of some of the charac- 
 ters are literally true. The love interest centres around a girl 
 of high ideals, who inspires a wealthy young man to enter the 
 local campaign. 
 
 " Th best one may hear of ' The Spoilsmen ' will be none too 
 good. As a wide-awake, snappy, brilliant political story it has few 
 equals, its title-page being stamped with that elusive mark, 'suc- 
 cess.' One should not miss a word of a book like this at a time 
 like this and in a world of politics like this." Boston Transcript. 
 
 "... It ought to do good. The world of municipal politics is 
 put before the reader in a striking and truthful manner ; and the 
 sources of evil that afflict the government of our cities are laid bare 
 in a manner that should arrest the attention of every honest man 
 who wishes to purge and cleanse our local governments. It illus- 
 trates, too, very forcibly, how difficult a work it is to accomplish 
 such municipal reform, and how useless it is to attempt it without 
 united and persistent effort on the part of those who should be 
 most interested." Graver Cleveland. 
 
 A Daughter Of Thespis. By JOHN D. BARRY, 
 author of " The Intriguers," " Mademoiselle Blanche," etc. 
 Library 1 2mo, cloth ...... $1.50 
 
 The author's experiences as a dramatic critic have enabled 
 him to write with authority on the ever fascinating theme of 
 stage life. From " the front," in the wings, and on the boards 
 from all these varying points of view, is told this latest 
 story of player folk an absorbing tale. 
 
 of the experiences of Evelyn Johnson, actrass, may 
 be praised jnst because it is so true and so wholly free from melo- 
 drama and the claptrap which we have come to think inseparable 
 from any narrative which has to do with theatrical exprinoes." 
 Professor Harry Tkurstm Peck, of Columbia University.
 
 LIST OF NEW FICTION 
 
 Prince Hagen. By UPTON SINCLAIR, author of 
 " King Midas," etc. 
 Library 1 2mo, cloth $1.50 
 
 In this book, Mr. Sinclair has written a satire of the first 
 order one worthy to be compared with Swift's biting tirades 
 against the follies and abuses of mankind. 
 
 The scheme of the book is as delightful as it is original 
 Prince Hagen, son of that Hagen who killed Siegfried, grand- 
 son of Alberich, King of the Nibelungs, comes to this earth 
 from Nibelheim, for a completion of his education, and it is 
 the effect of our modern morality on a brilliant and unscrupu- 
 lous mind which forms the basis of Mr. Sinclair's story. 
 Prince Hagen's first exploits are at school ; then in the thick 
 of New York's corrupt politics as a boss. Later, after he has 
 inherited the untold wealth of the Nibelungs, he tastes the 
 society life of the metropolis. 
 
 As a story simply, the book is thoroughly entertaining, with 
 a climax of surprising power ; but, as a satire, it will live. 
 
 Earth's Enigmas. By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, 
 author of " The Kindred of the Wild," " The Heart of the 
 Ancient Wood," etc. A new edition, with the addition of 
 three new stories, and ten illustrations by Charles Livingston 
 Bull. 
 Library I2mo, cloth, uncut edges .... $1.50 
 
 " It will rank high among collections of short stories. . . . His 
 prose art, too, has reached a high degree of perfection. ... In 
 ' Earth's Enigmas ' is a wider range of subject than in the ' Kindred 
 of the Wild.' " Review from advance sheets of the illustrated edition 
 by Tiffany Blake in the Chicago Evening Post. 
 
 " Throughout the volume runs that subtle questioning of the 
 cruel, predatory side of nature which suggests the general title of 
 the book. In certain cases it is the picture of savage nature raven- 
 ing for food for death to preserve life; in others it is the secret 
 symbolism of woods and waters prophesying of evils and misadven- 
 tures to come. Al this does not mean, however, that Mr. Roberts 
 is either pessimistic or morbid it is nature in his books after all, 
 wholesome in her cruel moods as in her tender." Tke New York 
 Independent,
 
 L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 
 
 The Silent Maid. By FREDERIC W. PANGBORN. 
 Large i6mo, cloth, with a frontispiece by Frank T. Mer- 
 rill . . - $1-00 
 
 A dainty and delicate legend of the brave days of old, of 
 sprites and pixies, of trolls and gnomes, of ruthless barons and 
 noble knights. " The Silent Maid " herself, with her strange 
 bewitchment and wondrous song, is equalled only by Undine 
 in charm and mystery. The tale is told in that quaint diction 
 which chronicles " The Forest Lovers," and in which Mr. 
 Pangborn, although a new and hitherto undiscovered writer, is 
 no less an artist than Mr. Hewlett. 
 
 The Golden Kingdom. By ANDREW BALFOUR, 
 author of " Vengeance is Mine," " To Arms ! " etc. 
 Cloth, 1 2 mo, decorative cover . . . . $1.50 
 
 This is a story of adventure on land and sea, beginning in 
 England, and ending in South Africa, in the last days of the 
 seventeenth century. The scheme of the tale at once puts the 
 reader in mind of Stevenson's "Treasure Island," and with 
 that augury of a good story, he at once continues from the 
 mysterious advent of Corkran the Coxswain into the quiet 
 English village, through scenes of riot, slave-trading, ship- 
 wreck, and savages to the end of all in the " Golden King- 
 dom " with its strange denizens. The character of Jacob the 
 Blacksmith, big of body and bigger of heart, ever ready in 
 time of peril, will alone hold his attention with a strong grip. 
 
 The Promotion of the Admiral. By MORLEY 
 
 ROBERTS, author of "The Colossus," "The Fugitives," 
 
 " Sons of Empire," etc. 
 
 Library 1 2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 
 
 We consider ourselves fortunate in being able to announce 
 this latest novel by Mr. Morley Roberts, who has such a wide 
 circle of readers and admirers. This volume contains half a 
 dozen stories of sea life, fresh, racy, and bracing, some 
 humorous, some thrilling, all laid in America, a new field for 
 Mr. Roberts, and introduces a unique creation, "Shanghai 
 Smith," of " 'Frisco," kidnapper of seamen, whose calling and 
 adventures have already interested and amused all readers of 
 The Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post.
 
 LIST OF NEW FICTION 5 
 
 The Schemers. A TALE OF MODERN LIFE. By 
 EDWARD F. HARKINS, author of " Little Pilgrimages 
 Among the Men Who Have Written Famous Books," etc. 
 Library I2mo, cloth, with a frontispiece by Ernest 
 Fosbery ......... $1.50 
 
 A story of a new and real phase of social life in Boston, 
 skilfully and daringly handled. There is plenty of life and 
 color abounding, and a diversity of characters shop-girls, 
 society belles, men about town, city politicians, and others. 
 The various schemers and their schemes will be followed with 
 interest and there will be some discerning readers who may 
 claim to recognize in certain points of the story certain recent 
 happenings in the shopping and the society circles of the Hub. 
 
 The Captain's Wife. By W. CLARK RUSSELL, 
 author of " The Wreck of the Grosvenor," " The Mate of 
 the Good Ship York," etc. 
 
 Library lamo, cloth, with a frontispiece by W. H. 
 Dunton ......... $1.50 
 
 The customary epithets applied to nautical fiction are quite 
 incommensurate with the excellence of Mr. Clark Russell's nar- 
 rative powers, and these are thoroughly at their best in " The 
 Captain's Wife." "The Captain's Wife" is the story of a 
 voyage, and its romantic interest hinges on the stratagem of 
 the captain's newly wedded wife in order to accompany him 
 on his expedition for the salvage of a valuable wreck. The plot 
 thickens so gradually that a less competent novelist would be 
 in danger of letting the reader's attention slip. But the climax 
 of Benson's conspiracy to remove the captain, and carry off 
 the wife, to whom his lawless passion aspires, is invested with 
 the keenest excitement. 
 
 The Story of the Foss River Ranch. s y 
 
 RlDGWELL CULLOM. 
 
 Library i2mo, cloth decorative . . . . $1.50 
 The scene of this story is laid in Canada, not in one of the 
 great cities, but in that undeveloped section of the great North- 
 west where to-day scenes are being enacted similar to those 
 enacted fifty years ago during the settlement of the great Amer- 
 ican West. The story is intense, with a sustained and well- 
 developed plot, and will thus appeal to the reading public.
 
 L. C PAGE AND COMPANY'S 
 
 The Interference of Patricia. By LILIAN 
 
 BELL, author of " Hope Loring," " Abroad with the Jim- 
 mies," etc. With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T 
 Merrill. 
 Cloth, 1 2mo, decorative cover $1.00 
 
 This story adds not a little to the author's reputation as a 
 teller of clever tales. It is of the social life of to-day in Denver 
 that city of gold and ozone and deals of that burg's pecu- 
 liarities with a keen and flashing satire. The character of the 
 heroine, Patricia, will hold the reader by its power and bril- 
 liancy. Impetuous, capricious, and wayward, with a dominat- 
 ing personality and spirit, she is at first a careless girl, then 
 develops into a loyal and loving woman, whose interference 
 saves the honor of both her father and lover. The love theme 
 is in the author's best vein, the character sketches of the mag- 
 nates of Denver are amusing and trenchant, and the episodes 
 of the plot are convincing, sincere, and impressive. 
 
 A Book Of Girls. By LILIAN BELL, author of " Hope 
 Loring," " Abroad with the Jimmies," etc. With a frontis- 
 piece. 
 Cloth, i2mo, decorative cover $1.00 
 
 It is quite universally recognized that Lilian Bell has done 
 for the American girl in fiction what Gibson has done for her 
 in art that Lilian Bell has crystallized into a distinct type all 
 the peculiar qualities that have made the American girl unique 
 among the women of the world. Consequently, a book with a 
 Bell heroine is sure of a hearty welcome. What, therefore, 
 can be said of this book, which contains no less than four 
 types of witching and buoyant femininity? There are four 
 stories of power and dash in this volume : " The Last Straw," 
 "The Surrender of Lapwing," "The Penance of Hedwig," 
 and "Garret Owen's Little Countess." Each one of these 
 tells a tale full of verve and thrill, each one has a heroine oi 
 fibre and spirit.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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