Broken to the Plow: A NovelDobie, Charles Caldwell
General
Broken to the Plow: A Novel
Dobie, Charles Caldwell
Fiction
Starratt made no further reply, but Brauer's attitude rankled. He
began to wish that he hadn't allowed Brauer to go in on his venture.
'But it had taken money ... more than he had imagined. They had to put
a good deposit down on the office furniture, and the rent was, of
course, payable in advance. Then came the fee for joining the Broker's
Exchange, and he had to borrow money for his personal expenses in the
face of his diminished salary check from Ford, Wetherbee & Co. He
realized, too, that the difficulties would scarcely decrease, even in
the face of brisk business. The office furnishings would one day have
to be met in full, the typewriting machine paid for, the stationery
and printing bills settled. During all this time he and Helen would
have to live and keep up a decent, not to say prosperous, appearance.
Yes, even with Helen saving the price of a stenographer, the problem
would not be easy. A day would come finally when he would feel
compelled to provide Helen with a fair salary. A man couldn't expect
even his own wife to go on pounding a typewriting machine for nothing.
What he really hoped was that when things began to run smoothly Helen
would retire... He had heard her in the old days voice her scorn of
the married woman who went out to earn a salary.
"I wouldn't marry a man who couldn't support me!" she used to blaze.
As a matter of fact, he had felt the same way about it--he felt that
way still. It hurt him to think that Helen should be wearing the badge
of his inefficiency. And then, deep down, he had a masculine distaste
for sharing his workday world with a woman. He liked to preserve the
mystery of those hours spent in the fight for existence, because he
knew instinctively that battle grounds lost their glamour at close
range. His Californian inheritance had fostered the mining-camp
attitude toward females--they were one of two things: men's moral
equals or men's moral superiors. It was well enough to meet an equal
on common ground, but one felt in duty bound to enshrine a superior
being in reasonable seclusion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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