The Hocking sentinel. [volume] (Logan, Ohio) 1871-1906, 1903-05-21
In the Irrigated Land

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0 S Mrs. Clawson entered the
IN kitchen, carrying a pan piled
S0 high with new potatoes, she
threw an impatiently sharp glance to-
ward her husband. He was standing
near a chair, his hand resting weakly
on its back.
you kin talk to me forever, Hi
Clawson, bout that water; but if l
had fifty springs stead O. fifteen and
the dry season lasted twelve months
stead O. six. not drop. not a solit'ry
drop, would Mary Long git from one
o. my trenches. She's no friend O.
mine"
"She wuz back East. mother"
Clawson choked at his own boldness.
Her Vegetables is all dryin' up-her
boarders is leayin' on ev'ry down.
stage"
A faint red showed itself under Mrs.
Clawson's dark, wrinkled skin. She
lowered her brows ominously.
yCh ndppCh W .hdly A<ohs3
a-prophesyin' that I'd never do better
than pick up crooked stick in the
matrimonyel MARKET"
Clawson had heard the report of
Mary Longs speech on the occasion
Of many family jars; yet the words
never failed to make him vince. He
sat down, throwing one knee over the
other. Then he crossed his wrists and
let his head fall forward humbly.
II wouldn't lift finger Mrs. Claw
sons voice was as solemn as the toll
ing Of belly for Mary LOng-I
wouldn't give her cup O. tea If she
come a-beggin' ut my back door. No;
not-not If even Bobbie ast me to-"
Bobbie was their son; and to refuse
any request Of his was the final test
and triumph of Mrs. Clawson's will
power.
Clawson's eyes followed his wife as
she drew up chair and began to
scrape the skins from the small, pink
brown potatoes. A look Of incredulity
came into his patient stare and rested
there.
After a little while he said, still OBJ
serving his wife keenly: Il never
knew yeh to refuse Bobbie anything
yet. bet If he'd want o marry Mary
Longs gurll you'd"
But he stopped speaking. silenced by
the glare from his wife's dark eyes.
The hand folding the knife began
to tremble.
"YOu ought o be ashamed O. your
self suggestin' sech thing. Our Bob
bic to marry into that family! I'd
rather he'd marry an Injun from up
the valley. Don't set there with that
look on your face. as If you b'lieved
sech a thing could happen"
She threw her head up stif1y. keep
Ing her eyes on her husband. meaning
to look him out Of countenance.
His glance dropped. Don't let's
quarr'l. mother. Got anything for me
to do? Got plenty O. wood in?"
For moment she was silent. Her
husband must not be permitted to i'm
agine that her indignation could be
appeased by any such trifiing over
lures.
"Yes," she said, cutting off the word
aercely. 81 have got something fer
you to do. Strengthen up that trench
where it makes the sharp turn mex
Mary Longs field. Well be irrigatin'
her corn patch the frs thing you
know" She spoke contemptuously;
then she laughed low and maliciously.
THAT dry trench O. hers with only
foot or two Of solid ground between
it and that fine little stream of ours!
And some time, father. between this
an bedtime, want you to take
stick and scratch two or three little
channels down tow-wards the to-
matoes. The other garden stuff is fair
ly CROWN up out Of a swamp; but,
somehow, the tomatoes has been for
got"
Clawson rose and slowly left the
room.
While Mrs. Clawson prepared the
loon-hour dinner she frequently peered
up the long slope leading from the
Kitchen porch. 1t was planted in me-
.hodical patches of garden truck. Some
of the green clumps had Outgrown
their strength and could be seen to
sprawl. as If for support, over smaller,
Itockier growths. Mrs. Clawson's gaze
was bounded by a hedge Of manzanita,
whose small trunks and twisted limbs
showed a soft red. like dressed cedar.
wide ditch ran along the hedge, the
water turning near the group Of pines
and hurrying down through the south
western corner Of the ClawsOn ranch
20 the creek.
When Mrs. Clawson saw her hus-
oand bend to pick up an armful of
broken rock she sat down cOntentedly
aear the open door; she braced the
small, square coffee mill firmly be-
tween her knees. and turned the ham
lie with fierce, spirited movement.
"Clawson, dinners ready" she called,
half an hour later.
AS she went along the path she
pulled off the withered roses from the
bushes. When she came to the barbed
wire leuCc sue StOOu lOOhihS
cally across her neighbor's blighted
corn field. Not healthy stalk to be
yeen anywhere among those sickly
plants; each one thirsing for water.
The ditch flowed rather noisily at her
feet as it ran along the steepest part
Of the hill. Three hundred feet west
the creek sang musically in muffied
road.
Mrs. Clawson's thin lips curved in
I downward crescent.
"Clawson," she called again. But he
vas at her side. and followed her
heavily over the plank laid across the
trench.
"Whatever has become of that boy
,f ours?" she said, affectfOnately.
"Took his rods and fy-book out with
him early this morning. Said he'd be
back at dinner time, sure. Well, Claw
son. how'd you git along with the
work?" She turned a suspicious eye