Wichita eagle., 1890-02-06
MARTHA.

''She's good gal an deserves to be
happy eff anybody does!"
Old John Compton gave the wheel of
his wagon an emphatic twirl around the
axle which he had been greasing. His
brow was troubled, his voice betrayed
emotion. Removing his funnel shaped
hat, he wiped the moisture from his
wrinkled face.
Behind him was his cabin, and in its
entry his wife was at work. In front of
him lay his crops exulting in the sun
shine. He took the prop from the axle;
then he joined his wife.
Mother" he said, in the same dis
quieted tone that had characterized his
soliloquy a moment before, mother,
you think Martha's made up her mind
about Berry Bradley an 'twouldn't do
no good to reason furder with herr"
The woman turned from the churn,
and drew near to him. Her movement
was slipshop, her face as grave as his;
signing, she said:
E'Do any good? Not a particle I've
been agin it, John, the Lords my wit
ness. I've suffered torments; not a
nacherl nights rest in month have
had. But what's to be done? It's the
Lords will, reckon. You don't know
nothin' about a mothers feelin's-a man
cayn't, it aint natur'; but I've got some'n
to tell you; you're her father an orter
know, though sech matters kin pass bet
ter betwixt women folks, kase they I'M
derstand one another.
LAST night couldn't rest. You was
sound asleep. / thought heerd some'n'
a-stirrin' in the child's room. 1 got out
o bed and crept cross She entry, an,
a-standin' thar at that crack, | heerd her
a-cryin' an a-prayin' in thar to herself,
'thout a sign of a light.
Il peeped in at the door, an saw the
pore gals face in the moonshine. In all
my born days l hain't seed sech misery
on a human countenance. She was as
dead white as corpse, a-settin' on the
side O. the bed with her arms crossed.
bendin' for'ard an back ard, a-moanin'
an a-prayin' in whispers.
Il knowed twas kase we'd been a
talkin' agin' Berry, an l went to her an
TUX her up in my lap-she's pore frail
little thing anyway; she never was
overly stout.
after awhile she told me all about it
from beginnin' to end. Berry ulster tote
her dinner basket an jine her on the
road TO school mighty nigh every day
three year ago fore he TUX to drinkin'.
She begun to love him then. She never
opened her mouth about it, an you
know he didn't come TO the house even
as often as Glenn Craig, 50 how's we to
know?
''She don't dispute that he's trifin.
He's arays been kind an lovin' to her,
she says; an has promised time an agin
to stop drinkin. She thinks she can get
i'm TO give it up. He proved to her, at
meetin', yesterday, by Budd Logan, at
he haint teched a drop o anything in
toxicatin' in over three weeks. He says
he never will agin; but the's no tellin'
bout them that's tied to liquor. He
mout start agin, an what I'D come O.
herr"
The huskiness in the woman's voice got
the mastery of her articulation, and she
went silently back to the churn. She
continued her work. but the dasher in her
unsteady hand struck against the sides of
the churn with unwonted force. She
was wiping her eyes on the skirt of her
bonnet.
The subject of the conversation Just
reported was the only living child of the
old couple: their other children had died
before they had passed the period of in
fancy Martha was the pet, the JOY of
the humble household. More than once
the neighbors had expressed themselves
against what they considered to be dot
ing over indulgence of the girl on the
part of the father and mother.
She'll be eternally spilled" quoth
one
She's the only gal in the hollow at
kin afford TO wear shoes in summer
time; next thing you'll hear o her
a-havin' hoss an buggy, said another.