Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1896-06-11

III He had tilted his
chair back to the
wall of the house, his fecf were caught
in the rung, and he was drowsily con-
tent, sitting there in his shirt sleeves,
his wife beside him and the long, pure
twilight deepening into lauguorous,
fiower-scented night. .. =.
eyer fow'rs is doin' pretty well,
Mary" he began, presently. Mary had
been crouched on the step, her elbows
in her knees, her face buried in her
hands, and she had been so long silent
that he wanted to hear her speak, to
know if she were weeping.
ooh, yes" she answered, without en-
thusiasm. ..-....
There were no tears in her voice, but
the tone was hopelessly dreary. ..
Eyer 'sturtiums amt blowed yit," he
continued, with a wish to enliven her.
''No, jist buddin'." ''.'
can the sweet peas?" with move
ment toward the window where the
thrifty vines were climbing up their
taut white strings. -'.' ..'t
"rhey'll be out in week." and then
the silence grew around them again.
"There's the down express" John vol
unteered after long pause. A puff
of smoke rose over the cutting beyond
the bridge, the headlight leaped into
sight, the whistle screeched its warning
and the train Numbered by, it's window
lights shooting in and out on the curve
like sparks tossed on hurricane.
"There they CO." Mary said, envious-
iy, "comin' here an goin' there, SEEM
things an people, an enjoyin' their
selves, an we jist stick here in the one
place like the powders over on the
roadside
Her tone was hard, the infection was
a complaining one.
II guess you git pretty lonely, some
days." John ventured, letting his chair
down on its front legs, and putting his
hand on his wife's shoulder in half
clumsy caress.
ooh! it's awful, john" she said,
brokenly, taken off her guard by the
tenderness, when I've washed an
cleaned myself an there amt nothin'
more to do. "Tain't but what l could
do knittin' or SEWN for winter, but 1
can't get the things to do with. Then
the trains keep goin' by, an hate the
people who kin go to places. I'd go
ravin' mad, eff didn't do somethin', so
L allus go an scrub up the kitchen floor.
1t works off them feelin's, an some
days 1 do it mornin's an afternoons
too"
why don't you go over an set with
3im Lawson's wife," John suggested.
81 don't like her." Mary answered,
promptly, ''fer she's allus braggin'
bout her babies"
'How many hev they got?" asked the
husband, carelessly.
-Four" the childless woman at his
side whispered.
Mary had been tailoress before she
was married. She was ambitious be-
yond her fellow-worl<ers, deft with her
needle, quick with her tongue, and she
dreamed of future far different than
tie life of John Bray's wife. But ten
hours day at sewing-machine wears
upon a woman. John asked her to
marry him, and she thought the little
brown house would be paradise. She
kept the rooms spotlessly neat, she
planted and tended the flowers, and
helped her husband in the strip of land
where their vegetables were. She had
been married four years. Johns salary
was no higher, the house began to look
n little shabby here and there, and Mary
pinned for companionship and grew bit.
ter as she saw her ideals of life being
slowly strangled one by one. John was