The Washington times., 1938-12-30

M ~ OS SSAOAAS OAS "NAAS
"A Glenn Bascom's heavy
soled shoes sounded like a
plank being slapped down. At
the kitchen door he stopped
and scuffed heavily on the
mat. His wife's misgivings
: deepened as she watched him
enter.
Your victuals are ready, Glen, u
said his wife.
"Just as soon as I wash, Mar
tha." Glen made for the kitchen
sink.
Martha, when she and her hus
band ate alone, always set table
in the kitchen. The kitchen was
roomy, one of the ample kind
found in old-fashioned farm.
houses, when they constructed
kitchens as if they were intended
to feed hearty men with vigorous
appetites.
A BOUNTEOUS MEAL
The tradition of the room SUI.
fered In no way by the noon meal
that Martha had laid. A big baked
ham, in a neat brown coat of
Sugared bread crumbs, showed
pink flesh delicately marbled with
a tracery Of fat. The dish of cold,
boiled potatoes had the SmootheSt
Of brown jackets. A freshly cut
pumpkin pie revealed a deep two
inches of golden filling. And
there were a bounty of minor
items considered necessary to fill
chinks between ham, potatoes and
pie in a robust, outdoors mans
stomach.
Martha noted intently her huS-
band as he washed. He had his
leathery, bronzed face in the tin
wash basin. The rumpus coming
from that corner was a good imi.
tation of a romping walrus, but
to Martha the SnortS and puffS
between Splashes lacked anima-
tion.
Her observations answered a
question in her. mind that she
had been anxious to learn but
had not asked. Her husbands
mission that morning had failed.
"You needn't tell me, Glen" "
Martha poured the coffee. You
couldn't raise the money"
"You guessed it." Glen forked
some potatoes onto his plate and
started peeling. The way he did
it revealed that his mind was not
on his food. Martha noticed and
caught herself in time to restrain
o sigh.
After trifling with his food
Glen rose. Martha, when Sam
uel Billings gets here, call me in.
] suppose it will be 2 o'clock
sharp, just as he said. I'll be out
in the barn somewheres."
It was in the midst of the
shower that had been threatening
all morning that Samuel Billings
drove into the Bascom yard.
Martha welcomed him into the
house. Better take off your
coat, Samuel" she said as she
felt his arm. cts all wet on
this side"
TIME TO COLLECT
Samuel gladly removed it. IF
you'll hang it up by the stove,
Martha, I'll be obliged. You can't
move over much when you're
drivin'. These dang sport road
Sters are sure peSky when you get
caught in rain. Vera, my wife,
likes 'em. She loves ridin' with
the top down when the weather'S
nice. Bout all the sport kin get
in 'em, is tryin' to keep dry when
it rains, and keepin' warm when
the winds chilly"
Martha agreed with a smile.
It'll get Clem; he's expecting you" I"
She pointed at some of the pie
that she had automatically left
on the table. Like a piece while
you're waiting?"
Don't mind, don't mind if I
do," said Samuel, pleased. He
had great respect for Martha'S
cooking. "He was carefully clean
ing his plate of the last morselS
when Glen came in.
"Howdy, Samuel"
'Howdy, Glen. Gosh! I wish
Vera could make pie like your
wife. You're lucky man, Clem.
Funny. though, here I be gettin'
fatter and fatter, and you're just
as lean as you ever was"
'Nothin' funny bout that. Sam
uel. You hire hands to do all
your farmin': I only hire what I
can't do myself. Makes a toler-
able difference, that, bout the
girt Of your belt. Suppose you
came bout that note.'
Fright, Glen, did. Got it in
my wallet in my coat there. Want
to leave that note here, get my
money; just as told you coupla
weeks ago."
Glen grimaced. Cant do it,
Samuel. When I borrowed.I ex.
pected to do as I promised, but
that flood this summer washed
out my money crop on the inter
vale. I've tried to raise the money
but nobody seems to be wantin' to
lend. Til nav half. though. and