Family life -- Fiction; Farm life -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction
The two men now withdrew from the table to the fireside and lighted
their pipes. Mrs. Watterly stepped out for a moment and Tom, looking
over his shoulder to make sure she was out of ear shot, said under his
breath, "But suppose you found a woman that you could love and obey,
and all that?"
"Oh, of course, that would make everything different. I wouldn't begin
with a lie then, and I know enough of my wife to feel sure that she
wouldn't be a sort of dog in the manger after she was dead. She was
one of those good souls that if she could speak her mind this minute
she would say, 'James, what's best and right for you is best and
right.' But it's just because she was such a good wife that I know
there's no use of trying to put anyone in her place. Where on earth
could I find anybody, and how could we get acquainted so that we'd know
anything about each other? No, I must just scratch along for a short
time as things are and be on the lookout to sell or rent."
Tom smoked meditatively for a few moments, and then remarked, "I guess
that's your best way out."
"It aint an easy way, either," said Holcroft. "Finding a purchaser or
tenant for a farm like mine is almost as hard as finding a wife. Then,
as I feel, leaving my place is next to leaving the world."
Tom shook his head ruefully and admitted, "I declare, Jim, when a
feller comes to think it all over, you ARE in a bad fix, especially as
you feel. I thought I could talk you over into practical common sense
in no time. It's easy enough when one don't know all the bearin's of a
case, to think carelessly, 'Oh, he aint as bad off as he thinks he is.
He can do this and that and the t'other thing.' But when you come to
look it all over, you find he can't, except at a big loss. Of course,
you can give away your farm on which you were doing well and getting
ahead, though how you did it, I can't see. You'd have to about give it
away if you forced a sale, and where on earth you'll find a tenant
who'll pay anything worth considering--But there's no use of croaking.
I wish I could help you, old feller. By jocks! I believe I can.
There's an old woman here who's right smart and handy when she can't
get her bottle filled. I believe she'd be glad to go with you, for she
don't like our board and lodging over much."
"Do you think she'd go tonight?"
"Oh, yes! Guess so. A little cold water'll be a good change for her."
Mrs. Wiggins was seen, and feeling that any change would be for the
better, readily agreed to go for very moderate wages. Holcroft looked
dubiously at the woman's heavy form and heavier face, but felt that it
was the best he could do. Squeezing Mrs. Watterly's cold, limp hand in
a way that would have thawed a lump of ice, he said "goodby;" and then
declaring that he would rather do his own harnessing for a night ride,
he went out into the storm. Tom put on his rubber coat and went to the
barn with his friend, toward whom he cherished honest good will.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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