Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1885-05-20
1sles saA Sksi1llf<. !
TFrom the Youth's Companio5-]
nULES OBsfINACY.
AND HOW n LED TO A MAKRIAGE.

About two miles from my house, on my
Dakota wheat farm, stands one tall lonely
tree. It is the only object in sight thai
breaks the low horizon, and for many
long mile, north, south. east or west. nc
other tree can be found. Itstands just on
the high bank of Smoky river. which goes
curling and winding across the country
westward. and close beside it stands Chris
Tronsen's log house. built of logs brought
down the river in the spring time from
the north.
One day. early last spring. had been
to The next town to get an iron bolt MADE
at the blacksmith's. to replace one that
had been broken the day before. and was
riding home. MY mule was Looping at q
good rate along the road which follows
the river. And as we reached Chris log
house. which had Just been newly white.
washed outside, saw Chris sitting calmly
on the doorstep. while Lolita. bis wife,
was lifting the heavy harness and throw
ing 1t onto Yak" their old white mule.
s.ChrIs must be either sick or very lazy.
said to myself, ITO sit and let his wife
harness the mules did not know much
shout Chris then, but giving him the ben
eft of the doubt. shouted. In passing:
"Sick, Christ"
Chris shook his head in what thought
was q rather sheepish way, and LOtta
looked over her shoulder and laughed.
In the hurry of the day work. this oc-
currence slipped from my mind. But
some time afterward, when l happened
to pass their place again. saw Lotta out
In the fields driving the mules. which
were fastened TO the seeder. This IN It.
self would not have been surprising, for
the Norwegian women in the Territory.
with their vigorous frames and robust
health. often work with their husbands at
the out door labor. But saw great, ro-
bust Chris himself pairing potatoes out.
side the door. And just as rose into view
from below the river bank. he caught up
his pan and slipped into the house.
mo doubt be is lazy, good-tor-noth-
ing fellow" said to myself. "who has q
thrifty. energetic wife. And so he sits
down and does her hight work. while she
is out sowing the wheat. 1t might not
have bad result if he could be harnessed
up with one of the mules for day, and
made to work under the whip"
After that saw Chris himself at work
in the field several times. But one even.
ing, a week or two later. l passed there
again. The mules we're fastened outside
the straw barn. The ground had been
very wet for two or three days past, and
OF course the mules legs were fairly coat
ed with sticky mud, which had partially
dried on. Lolita was hard at work over
the old white mule, scrubbing and rub
bling, scraping and brushing and currying,
as if her life depended on her success.
And there, on an overturned barrel. sat
Chris, much at his ease, calmly smoking
his pipe and looking complacently on.
what | had said to myself
before about his laziness. and now l
added:
IL will just stop for few minutes, and
see if the presence of stranger won't
shame the fellow into taking off his coat
and going to work in his wife's place.
So tied my mule to ring at the corner
of the house, and walked over to where
Chris was sitting. He looked up and
smiled, and SAID, "Good evening" with
the same sheepish expression had mo-
ticed before. And Lolita paused for a
moment and stood up. her face glowing
with the exertion, laughed-I thought she
would have done better to give her hus-
band good shaking,-and said it was
very warm. Then she went to work
again, to get through. SO she said, before
dark. But do my best, could not lead
the conversation to any explanation of the
strange state of affairs, and Chris showed
no disposition to take hold of the work
himself.
When it was dark, Lolita led these two
mules to their stalls. and then at last Chris
condescended to rise and fasten tie barn
door. was sure by their manner. and BY
Chris's expression when the subjuct was
preached. that either he was outrageously
lazy, Or there was some odd explanation
of his wife's doing so much Of his hard
work. while he sat idle. So took pains,
as met one neighbor and another here
and there about town, to make inquiries
about Chris. And with one accord they
all gave the same answers.
Had Chris Tronsen good reputation p''
'Yes, very good"
"Was he industrious and steadyp"
''As hard working and steady as any
man in town."
Ibid he treat bis wife kindly"
"There could be no doubt of It. He
was as kind-hearted as he was hard.work
ing"
Then why" would ask myself, "was
bis wife always ploughing. or rubbing
down mules. while he looked on and did
pothingp"
This all happened in the spring and
early summer. But it is only about g
week ago now that drove over to Chris'f
one mild evening, to get some bags that
had lent him to use in carrying his grair
to the elevator.
The years work was over. The whea
was cut, threshed and sold. The barn hac
been buried anew in mountain of frest
wheat straw, which filled the dooryarc
with its pleasant. fragrant smell. The
mules were tethered and browsing near by
Lolita and Chris were sitting together OF
the doorstep. talking over the years work
no doubt, while the sun was setting in
great bank of black clouds, from behint
which streamed out fire of crimson anC
gold.
after Chris had got the bags and thrown
them into my light wagon, he and Lott.
asked me into their little parlor, the wall.
of which were simply the inner side of tn,
logs, fitted, closed and hewed smooth
There was a gay-colored carpet on tn,
floor. and on the whole the room was quite
CHEEKY and comfortable. and we sat dows
in the twilight without lamp. After W,
had talked for some time about the crops
and prices. and the best way of banking
up houses in winter. in which Chris wa