As she bent to stitch linings and wrestled with contrary wirings, Mahala
was forever busy at her problem, because she had a problem to face. She
realized from the manner in which her mother had listened that she would
be interested in repairing the house and moving to the bit of land that
had fallen to them. But if she did this, she must either keep a working
place in the village and go back and forth, or she must undertake to
handle the land in such a way as to make a living from it. On this part
of her problem Mahala was helpless. She knew nothing whatever of sowing
and reaping, the rotation of crops; of gardening, of chickens, and of
the raising of stock. The only thing she did know that she could turn to
dollars and cents was the thing that she was doing. The only way in
which she could procure even a small degree of comfort for her mother
was to keep on with the work she really could do with assurance and with
extremely profitable results.
With a sharp eye upon every detail of expense, she began deliberately to
see how much she could save that might be laid away toward the repairing
of the farm house. If she had a few minutes to read, she found that she
was reading about land. If there was spare time in which Jemima came and
sat beside her and tried to help her with the coarser part of her work,
she constantly questioned her to learn what she knew about soil,
poultry, and gardening.
One day she said to Jemima: “Old dear, how much of your life are you
going to give to me? I want to know definitely how long I can depend on
you.”
Jemima smiled at her.
“Now, my dear,” she said, “don’t be botherin’ your head about that.
There’s only one thing on earth that could happen that would take me
away from you.”
“You mean your son?” questioned Mahala.
“Yes,” said Jemima. “I mean my boy. He’s a fine, upstanding lad. From
the time his father died till he could look out for himself, I took care
of him. He’s a good boy; he’s got a good wife. He’s got a houseful of
fine babies. As long as everything goes all right with them, I’m free to
stay with you and do all I can for you, and if it’s goin’ to be any
comfort to you, I want you to understand that’s what I mean to do.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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