Middletown transcript., 1904-07-16
By MARY MORRISON

infnitesimal lump of melted snow. Then
drawing his old Scotch cap down over
his ears, he plodded out to the barn with
/ his burden.
! :" s'pose Hiram thinks / didn't see
i'm tramping that milk into the floor
and spreading the grease as far as ever lie
could. Thinks he's cleaned it up by
stepping onto it," she said, getting the.
mop-pail and pouring into it a quantity
OF hot water What nasty crittef
man is" she muttered irritably as she
scrubbed away vigorously with rag and
some soap.
4 After supper Hiram sat sleepily toast
| ing his stockinged feet before the fire,
while his wife carefully swept the imag-
mary crumbs from the floor with lop-
sided broom. He watched her dreamily
as she twisted its uneven lengths into
the corners and about the legs of the
fall-leaf table.
Why don't ye sweep straight, Sereny,
and wear your. broom off even, like the
widder Half? Her broom is as square
and trim as it was when it come out of
the store?''
| Serena Halstead paused with her broom
in mid-air. This was the proverbial last
feather, this comparing her methods of
doing anything with the ways of that
good-for-nothing-she felt that language
would fail should she attempt to express
the half of her feelings.
The ominous silence did more to arouse
her husband from his musing mood than
any TRADE of words. He looked up in
quiringly. The lighting fires of wrath
were scintillating flashing rays from her
eyes, and she stood and glared at him.
How long is it, Hiram Halstead, since
you took to comparing my ,brooms and
my ways of doing things with the ways
OF that impudent hussy across the road
How long is it, say ?'' she repeated
menacingly, with upraised broom, before
which Hiram involuntarily quailed.
Must be you're getting uncommon
familiar there. Now see here, Hiram.
I've stood a-plenty OF this kind of doin's. |
This house is getting too small to hold |
you and me, too; you'd better find an
other. DO you hear?" she screamed, her
anger possessing her to the exclusion OF |
every other emotion.
60, | say Go % she commanded |
iercely, and turning, she fled into the
bedroom, and closing the door, locked it.
Hiram Halstead looked after her will,
dazed expression on his face. Had he
heard her Alright? She said SO many
sharp, cutting things that he was be-
coming used to them, and they were
losing the power they once had to sting.
lie had long since ceased to strive with
her for the questionable triumph of the
last word. But she had never before told
him to go. Could she have meant it?
He rose to his feet and looked helplessly
about him. This was her house; these
were her broad acres stretching about
on either side. The old homestead that
had been her fathers before her. He
could lay no claim to them or to any
thing else, he thought bitterly.
He had no thought of disobeying. In
the old days of his army life Hiram
Halstead had been distinguished for his
unquestioning obedience to orders.
The wind walled dismally about the
house and few hard pellets of frozen
snow ratified against the window.
lie groped feebly among the garments
hanging behind the kitchen stove for
his faded blue swanky; then be found
his old Scotch cap and pulled it we'll
down over his ears and tied an ancient
red muffler about his throat, as he had
been wont to do on stormy days. His
yarn mittens, too, he took from under
the stove, where he had laid them to
dry, and opening the door, went out into
the night
The clock struck nine and ten. The
fire had long since burned out and ice
was beginning to freeze on the windows.
The foliage Of red geranium which
stood upon the sill, with its one cluster
OF blooms flushing ruby red, stiffened
into leaves of ice as the wind crept into
the crevices in the sash.
Finally the bedroom door was eau
tiously opened little way, then wider,
and Mrs. Halstead looked out into the
room. The old kitchen chair beside the
stove was empty, and the chintz-coyered
lounge had no occupant beside the house
cat, who mewed inquiringly as she came
slowly out. X
Gone to the barn, most likely" she
thought as she rekindled the kitchen fire
for the second time since morning. Them
she sat down and waited.
Finally she took down the lantern and
lit it !; then she pinned the gray shawl
over her head and went out.
The snow lay in drifts about the steps
and no foot had disturbed them for hours. t
She ploughed her way to the barn. 6
Old Gray looked up with whinny of !
welcome and the little fawn-coored calves c
jumped up from their warm nest of straw a
and thrust out their pink noses. for milk. l.
There were no suspicious-looking mounds
in the fragrant hay, and the horse blank I
cts lay in the old cutter-box.
She went out and shut the door, look t
ing carefully along the path as if she n
expected familiar old blue swanky TO g
rise up from some OF the misshapen drifts '
and confront her. Finally she went
down the path to the gate and looked n
down the road 10
The wind beat her back with wild v
shrieks and the sharp particles of snow
stung her face like needles Of fire, which a
were no sharper than the stings of re. i
morse which pierced her heart. What d
had she said? She could~ hardly re- /
yet she had faint::recollection 0
Of telling him, in her furious anger, to h
IL 4 4