Mrs Flint's Married Experience.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 428, 28 July 1904, Page 7

Mrs Flint's Married Experience.

By Rose Terry Cooke-

IL—(Continued) ' Don't pester your head about it, Miss Pratt. Ton ean't make nor mer die in inch thinga; but I'm free to own that I never was more beat-in all my dajs. Why, Amasy Flint is town-talk for nesrn( *i an" meanness. He pretends to be aa pious as a basket o' chijs, but I hain'r no vital faith in that kind o' pious; I blieve in my soul he's a an old hypocrite.' 'Ob, Sam! Sam! you hadn't ought to judge folks.' f I suppose I hadn't, reelly; but you know what Scripter ssys somewhere or lother, that some folks's sins are open. an' go to judgment beforehand, and I guess his'n do. I should hate to have mother take up with him.' ■ Whatoam we do, Sam V •Nottun*, strenoously. I don't know what 'tis about women-folks in Buch mattars ; they won't bear no more meddlin' with than a pa'tridge's v st: you'll spile the brood if you put ia a finger. I'd say jest as much as I could about her bein' always welcome here; I'll do my part of that set piece o' music; and that's all we can do: if she's set on har in' him. she will, and you nor me can't stop it, Mi; s Pratt;' with which sound advice Sam rose from the milking stool with h's reconstructed rake, took down a ooarse comb from the clock case, ran it through his hair by way of toilet, and sat down to supper at the table with the three other haymakers. Mindwell and her mother were going out to tea, so they did not sup with the man.

After they oame home Stm expressed himself in a succinct but foroible manner to Mrs Gold on the subject of her marriage, and Mindwell attempted a faint remonstrance again, but her morbid fear of selfishness shut the heart-throbs she longed to express to her mother back into their habitual silence. She and Sam beth, trying to do their beat, actually helped rather than hindered this unpropitiotu marriage. lIL Mrs Gold in her heart longed to stay with her children, bnt feared and disliked so heartily to be a. burden en their hands that she was unjust to herself and them too. A little Less self-inspection and a little more simple honesty of speech would have settled this matter in favor of Mißdwell and Colsbrook; as it war, Deacon Flint earried the day. On the Friday following he arrived for h's. answer, his gray hair tied in a long quene, his Sunday coat of blue and braes buttons, his tight drab pantaloons, raffled shirt, and low boots, all indicating a ceremonial oeoMioa.

* Gosh 1* said old Itrael Tucker, jogging along in his yeast oart, aa he met the gray mare in clean harness, whipped up by the deacon in this fine raiment, the old waggon itself being for once wr shed mid greased —• gosh! ifs easy tellin' what he's after. I ahon'd think them, mulleins an' hardhacks in the bury in*-ground would kinder rustle round. I don't know, though; mabbe Mies Fiinf s realized by now that she's better eff under them beauties of natnr' than she ever was in Amasy Flint's house. Good land; what fcola womenfolks be! They don't never know when they're wall tff. She's had an easy time along baek, but she's seen the last on'fc—she's seen the last oa't Get up, Jewpiter!'

Nothing daunted by any mjEtic or raagnetio hu« ol this vaticination by the highway, Deacon Flint whipped up his bony steed still more, and to such good purpose that ha arrived in Cokbrook befora the widow had taken down the last pinned-upcurl on her forehead, or decided whieh of her two worked collars she would pat on, and whether it would be incongruous to wear a brooch of blue enamel with a white centre on which was depicted (in a Ins brown tint prodnced by grinding up in oil a lock of the deceased Ethan Gold's hair) a weeping-willow bending ever a tomb, with an nro, and a date on the urn. This did Beem a little personal on inch an occasion, eo she pinned on a blue bow instead, and went down to receive the expecting deacon. • I hope I see you well, ma'am/ said Mr. Flint.

• Comfortably well, I'm obleeged to you.' was the prim answer. Bat the deacon was not to be daunted at this crisis j he plunged valiantly into the middle of things at once. ' I suppose you've took into consideration the matter in hand, Miss Gold V The widow creased her handkerchief between her finger and thumb, and seemed to be critical about the hemming of it; but she pretty soon said, softly, 'Yes, i can't say but what I have thought on't a good deal, I've counselled some with the children, too.' " Well, I hope you're fit and prepared to acknowledge the leadin'a of Providence to this end, and air about ready to be my companion through the valley of this world up to them fields beyond the swelling flood stands dressed in living green. Amen.' The deacon forgot he was not in a prayer-nueting, and so dropped into the hymn-book, as Mr Wegg did into secular poetry. 'Eo, well, there's a good deal to be thought of for and against it too,' remarked Mrs Gold, unwilling to give tco easy an assent) and so cheapen herself in the eyes of net acuta adorer; but when her thoughts weie sternly sifted down they appeared to be slight matter?, and the deacon soon carried his point He wasted no time in this transaction: having'shook hands on it,' as he expressed himself, he proceeded at onoe to arrange the programma. 'Well, Sarspty, we're both along in years, and to our time of life delays is dangexots. I think we'd better get married pretty quiofc I'm keeping that great laay Polly Morse, aid paying out aash right along; and yen no need to fix up any, you're got good clothes enough; besides, what's clothes to worms of tbe dart each is we be P The Catechism saye, ' Man's chief end is to glorify God and esjoy Him forever,' and if thar's bo—and

I expect 'tis so—why, Hain't nothing to be concerned about what our poor dying bodies is olothed in.' Mrs Gold did not agree with him at all; she liked her!clothes, as women onght to but his preternatural piety awed her, and she said, meekly enough. ' Well, I don't need ao great lot of gowns. I shan't buy but one, I don't believe.' A faint color stole to her cheek as she said it, for Bhe meant a wedding dress; and Deacon Flint waa acute enough to perceive it, and to understand that this was a point he could not carry. 'One gown ain't neither here nor there, Sarepty, but I aim to fix it on your mind that, as I said afore, delays is dangerous. I purpose, with the Divine blessing, to be married th's day two weeks, I suppose you're agreeable P' The widow was too surprised to deny this soft impeachment, and he went on: 'Ye see, there's papers to be drawed up: you've got independent means, and so have I, and it's jest as well to settle things fust as last. Did Ethan Gold leave you a life-interest in your thirds, or out and out ?' The widow's Up trembled: her dead husband had been careful of her, more careful than she knew, till now. 'He didn't will me no thirds at all; he left me use snd privilege for my natural life of everything that was his'n, and all to go to Mindwell when I'm gone.' •Do tell! He was forehanded, I declare for't!' fxclaimedthe deacon, both pleased and displeased; for if his wife's income was to be greater than he supposed, in case of her death before his there would be no increase to his actual posses sions. ' Well, I always calculated you had your thirds, and probably, knowing Ethan was free-handed, you had 'em out and out This makes some difference about what papers I'll have to have drawed up. Now I guees the best way is to have a agreement lite thfc I agree not to expect to hev and to hold none of your property, and you don't none of mine; but Ito have the use of your'n, and you to have your living out of mine. Tou ees, yon don't have no more'a your living out of your'n now; that's all we any of us get in this here world: ' hevin food and raiment, let us therewith be content,' as Scripter says, You agree to this, don't ye P' Bewildered with the plausible phrases, ballasted by a tfxt, unaware that even the devil can quote Scripture to serve his turn, Mrs Gold did not see that she was putting herself entirely into the hands of this man, and meekly agreed to his arrangement. 11 this story were not absolutely true, I should scarce dare to invent such a character as Deacon Flint, bnt he waa once a living man, and hesitating to condemn him utterly, being now defenceless among the dead, we can bnt hope for him and his .ike that there are purifying fires beyond this life where he may be melted and refined into the image of Him who made him a man, and gave him a long life here to develop manhood. Not till after he was gone did Mrs Gold begin to think that he had left her to explain his arrangements to Mindwell and Sam; and instinctively she shrank from doing so. Like many another weak woman, Bhe hated words, particularly hard words; her life had flowed on in a guttle routine, so peacefully that she had known but one sorrow, and that was so great that, with the propensity we all have to balance accounts with Providence, Bhe thought her trouble had been all she could bear; but there was yet reserved for her that sharp attrition of life which is so different from the calm and awful force of sorrow—so mnch more exasperating, so much more educating. Some instinct warned her to avoid remonstrance by concealing from her children the contract she was about to make, and Bhe felt too, the uncertainty of a wennn unaccustomed to business about her own clear understanding of the situation ; so sue satisfied herself with telling Mindwell of the near approach of her marriage.

* Oh, mother I ao soon!' was all Mindwsell sai3, though her eyes and lips spoke iS3 -ore elc q uently. 1 Well, now the thing's settled, I don't know but what it may as well be over with. We ain't young folke, Mind well. 'Tain't as if we had quite a spell to live.' Tears stood in her eyes as she said it; a certain misgiving stele over her; just then it seemed a good thing that she could not livelong. Mindwell forced back the sob that choked her. A woman of single heart, sbe did not consider a second marriage sacred. For herself, she would rather have taken her children to the town farm, cold as corporative charity is, than married another man than Samuel, even if he had been dead thirty years; and she bitterly resented this default of respect to her father's memory. Bat her filial duty eame to the rescue.

■ Dsar mother, I can't bear to think of it. What Bhall I do f what will the children eayP I did hope joa would take time to consider.' ■ It ain't zeal dutiful in you to take me to do, Mindwellj I'm full old to be leaBoned, eeema to me. Aa for you and the childreß, I don't feel ho great distress. Love luns down, not op, folks say, and I don't believe you'll any of ye pine a long epell.' Tnis weak and petulant outburst dismayed Mindwell, who had never seen her mother otherwise than gentle and pleaBant ; but, with the taot of a great heart, she siid nothing, only put her arms about the elder wi nun's neck and kissed her over and over. At this Mrs Gold began to cry, and in soothing her distress Mindwell forgot to ask any further questions, but eet herself to divert both their minds from this brief and bitter outburst by inquiring what preparation her mother meant to make in the fortnight. ' I don't lock to no great preparation,' sighed the widow. ' I have always had green clothes enough, and there's a piece of linen I wove before we come here that 'll do for all I want. I suppose I had ought to have a new gown to be married in. When I was married to Ethan, I had a white dimity gown and a blue levantine petticoat; and if he didn't fttch me a big bunch of sand-violets—they was blos-

sonung then—for to match my eyes and' my skirt, he Mid; but that's past and gone, as the hymn-book saya. I do want to have one good gown, Mindwell; and ■j}jr rm * Mttl* along in years, I guess 111 hare a dark one. T'other night, when we waa up to Squire Barnes's to tea, Miss Barnes was telling about a piece of plumcolored padnaaoy Mr Battle bought in Har ford for Lecty's wedding frown, and ahe wouldn't hev it. She said 'twaan't lively enough, and ao she's eet her mind on a bine levantine; but I should think the plum-color would become ma really well.'

So the plum-coloured silk waa bought; and arrayed in its simple foldß, with a new worked collar and a white satin bow, the widow Gold was dressed for her seeond wedding. Did she think, as ahe looked into her oval mirror that morning, what a different vision was this quiet, elderly, sober woman, in decent but not festal garments, from the Emilißg, blushing, blue-eyed creature, in her spotless dimity gown opening over a Hue petticoat, and clasped at the throat with a bunch of still bluer violets? Whatdoea a woman think who is married the second time P A man is satisfied that now hie house will be kept once more, hia clothes mended, his whims humored, hie table spread to his taste, and his children looked after. If it is needful, he can marry six wiveß, one after the other. They are a domestic necessity The Lord himself says it is not good for man to be alone; but it is quite another thing for the woman. Such a relation is not a movable feast to her; it is once for all; and if circumstance or p : que betray her into the faithlessness, what does she think of herself when it becomes inevitable ? The widow Gold did not tell. She was p&ler when she turned from the glass than when she looked into it, and she trembled as she went down stairs to sign the papers before Parson Koberts should arrive. IV. The best parlor was opened to-day, The high-backed chairs with old brocade cushions that had belonged to Sim Pratt's grandmother were ranged along the wal like a row of stiff ghcsts; the corner cupboards were set open to display the old china and glas3 that filled them ; there was a 'bDwpofc' of great red peonnies, abundant and riotcus with color and fatness, set under the chimney ia the well-whited fire-place; and a few late roses glowed in a blue china jar on the high mantel-piece. On a square table with a leaf lay a legal paper, that Sum was reading, with bis hands supporting his head, as if it was hard to understand the document.

The deacon, in his Sunday garments, was looking at him atkance; and Mindwell, with the little girls, Ede and Sylvia, ol<nging to her gown, was staring cut of the window, down the road—staring but not seeing, for the splendid summer day that lavished its bloom and verdure and odour on fcheoe gaunt New England hills, and hid their rude poverty with its royal mantle, was all a dim blur to the heartwrung woman.

'Mother/ said Sam Pratt, raising his bead, 'do 70a know what's the nam and substance of these here papers; and do you agree to itP' The widow glanced aside at Daacon flint, and caught his ' married eye,' early, as it was to use that ocular weapon. ' Why, yes, Samuell. I don't know but what I do/ she said, slowly and rather timidly. 'Well,' said Sam, rising and pushing the paper away, •if you do; why, then you're going right into't, and it's right, I s'poee; but, by Jinks 1 I think it's the d—' Mind well's touch on his arm ci rested the sentence. 'There's Parson Roberta, Sam well; you jist help him out of the gig, will yen P He's lame, I see.' Sam Pratt went, with the half-finished sentence on his lips. He was glad his wife had stopped him, on many accounts, but he did long to give Deacon Flint his own opinion of that preliminary contract. > He indulged himself for this deprivation after the stiff and somewhat melancholy wedding was over, and the sta'd couple had departed for Bassett in the Deacon's waggon, by freeing his mind to his wife. ' Miss Pratt, I was some riled to hev you stop me when I was a-going to tell the deacon what I thought about that there contract; bo 1 ; I don't never stay riled with you, marm, ts you'd ought to know by this time;' and Sam emphasized this statement with a hearty kiss. * Besides, I will own on second thoughts I was glad you did stop me. for it's no use pinching jour fingei ain a pair of nippers; but Ido say, now and here, it was the daradest piece of swindling I ever see, done under a cover of law and gospel, you may say, for the deacon had stack in a bit of Scriter so's to salt it like. He's got the best of the bargain, I tell ye, a long sight. I'm real glad your father went and fixed that prop'ty so she has the use on't only, foi she wouldn't have two cents in two yeira' time, if she'd had it to do with what she's a mind to,' * I'm glad he did,' said Mindwell. * I bare felt as though mother would be better suited if she did have it to do what she liked to with; but if this was to happen, why, it's as good Bhe is provided for: she can't want for nothing now.' ■ I guoes she'll want for more'n money, and mabbe for that too. The paper says she's to have her living; now that's a wide word; folks can live on bread and water, I expect, and he can't be holden for no more than he's a mind to give.' 'Oh, Sam, ycu don't think' Deacon Flint would grudge her a good living P Why, if he is near, as folks tell he is, he's a professor of religion.' 'l'd a darned sight ruther he was a piacticer on't, Misa Pratt. Eeligion's about the beat thing there ie, and making believe it is about the wast. I believe in Amasy Flint's religion jaßt bo far forth as I hear him talk, and not a inch farther. I know he'll pinch and shave and spare to the outside of a cheese rind; and I haven't no great reason to think heM do better by Mother Gold than he does by himself.' Mindwell turned away, full of foreboding, end San, following her, put his arm about rer and drew her back to the settle. • Don't worry, dear; she's made her bedj and she's got to lie on't; but after all it's the Lord who lets folks,do that way, so's to ehow 'em, I expect, that beds ain't always meant to sleep on, but sometimes to wake foil a up. We're kind of apt to lie long and get lazy on feathers. I expect that's what*s the matter with ma. I'll get my husks by-and-ty, I gueßß.' To be coatinued,)