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diff --git a/44148-0.txt b/44148-0.txt index d5456db..758ef5d 100644 --- a/44148-0.txt +++ b/44148-0.txt @@ -1,28 +1,4 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Confessions of a Daddy - -Author: Ellis Parker Butler - -Illustrator: Fanny Y. Cory - -Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44148] -Last Updated: March 11, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44148 *** Produced by David Widger @@ -1159,358 +1135,4 @@ when it comes, and give back love in return for it. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Confessions of a Daddy - -Author: Ellis Parker Butler - -Illustrator: Fanny Y. Cory - -Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44148] -Last Updated: March 11, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY - -By Ellis Parker Butler - -With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory - -New York The Century Co. - -1907 - - -TO - -ELSIE McCOLM BUTLER A VERY GOOD CHILD THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED BY HER -FATHER - - - - -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY - - - - -I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES - -I guess we folks that live up at our end of town think we are about as -good as anybody in Colorado, and mebby a little better. We get along -together as pleasant as you please, and we are a sort of colony, as you -might say, all by ourselves. - -Me and Marthy make especial good neighbors. We don't have no fights with -the other folks in our end of town, and in them days the neighbors hadn't -any reason to fight with us, for we didn't keep a dog and we hadn't -no children! I take notice that it is other folks dogs and children -that make most of the bad feelin's between neighbors. Of course we had -mosquitos, but Providence gives everybody something to practise up -their patience, and when me and Marthy sat out on our porch and heard -other people's children frettin' because the mosquitos was bad, we just -sat there behind our screened porch and thanked our stars that we did -n't have no children to leave our screen doors open. - -It was n't but right that me and Marthy should act accordingly. I don't -mean that we were uppish about it, but we did feel that we could live a -little better than our neighbors that had all the expense of children, -and if our house was fixed up a little better, and we was able to go off -three or four weeks in the summer to the mountains, when all the rest -stayed right at home, we had a right to feel pleased about it. Lots of -times we had things our neighbors could n't afford, and then the little -woman would say to me: “Hiram, you don't know how thankful I am that we -ain't got any children,” and I agreed with her every time, and did it -hearty, too. - -'T was n't that we hated children. Far from it. We just thought that -when we saw all the extra worry and trouble and expense that other -people's children brought about, we were right satisfied to live the way -we had lived the five years since we was married--our neighbors still -called us the “Bride and Groom.” Nor I can't say that we were happier -than the other folks in our end of town, but we was more care-free. We -lived more joyous, as you might say. - -One night when I come home from the store Marthy met me at the corner, -and when I had tucked her arm under mine, I asked her what was the news. -Bobby Jones had cut his finger bad; Stell Marks had took the measles; -little Tot Hemingway had run off, and her ma had gone near crazy until -the kid was found again; the Wallaces was n't goin' to take no vacation -this year at all because Fred was to go off to school in the fall, and -they could n't afford both. It was the usual lot of news of children -bein' trouble and expense. - -I was feelin' fine, the next day bein' a holiday, and Marthy, with the -slick way women has, sprung a favor on me just when she set the broiled -steak on the table. Extry thick, and burnt brown--that's my favorite -steak--and whenever I see it that way my mouth waters, and I look out -for a favor to be asked. - -“Hiram,” she says, quite as if she was openin' up a usual bit of talk, -“did you take notice of Mrs. Hemingway's silk dress last Sunday?” - -“Why no, Marthy,” I says, “I didn't. Was it new?” - -“New!” she laughed. “The idee! That's just what it wasn't. I believe she -has had that same silk ever since we have lived in this end of town, and -no one knows how much longer. It's a shame. She puts every cent she can -dig up on those children of hers, and has hardly a decent thing of her -own. I feel right sorry for her.” - -“I feel sorry for Hemingway,” says I. “The old boy is workin' himself to -death. He never gits home until supper is all over, and he told me just -now that he felt it his bounden duty to work to-morrow. I tell you, -Marthy, children is an expensive luxury!” - -“That's just what they are,” she agreed. “If it wasn't for their -children, the Hemingways could live every bit as good as we do, and he -wouldn't have to work of nights, poor fellow. But, Hiram,” she says, as -if the idee had just hit her, “do you recall to mind when this end of -town has seen a new silk dress?” - -“Why, no--no,” I said; “when was it?” - -“Years ago!” says the little woman. “I was figgerin' it up to-day, and -it was full two years ago. Ain't it awful?” - -“Downright scandalous!” I says. “And just on account of those children, -too!” - -Marthy looked down at her plate, innocent as you please. - -“I'm glad we ain't got any children, Hiram,” she says, full of mischief. - -That tickled me. I was tickled to see how she was tickled to think she -had trapped me. - -“I guess it's our bounden duty to hold up the honor of our end of town -by showin' it a new silk dress,” I says, and the next thing I knew I was -fightin' to keep her from chokin' me to death. - -All that evening Marthy was unusual quiet and right happy, too. As she -sat on the porch her eyes would wander off over-the-hills-and-far-away, -and I knew she was lost in joyous tanglements of bias and gores and -plaits, where a man can't foller if he wants to. But when we went inside -and had the blinds pulled down she put her arms around my neck again and -gave me another choke. - -“Dear, dear old Hiram!” she says, and her eyes was tear-wet. “Just -think! A new silk dress!” And just then there came into the room the -noise of the Marks child--the one with the measles--whimpering. - -“Ain't you glad,” says the little woman, “that we haven't any children -to spoil all our fun, and bother us?” and when I looked down into that -happy little face of hers, I was glad, and no mistake. - -The next day was a beauty. It came in like a glory, and we was up -almost as soon as the sun was; for we had figgered on one of our regular -old-time jolly days by ourselves on the hills--one of the kind that made -our end of town call us the “Bride and Groom.” It was our plan to take -a good lunch, and just wander. Marthy was to take a book, and I was to -take my fishin' tackle, and beyond that was whatever happy thing that -turned up. - -“If we had children,” she said, “we couldn't go off on these long tramps -by ourselves.” - -We got away while the neighbors in our end of town were still at -breakfast, and as we passed the Wallace's place we ran up to holler -good-by through the window at them, and there was the youngest Wallace -foolin' on the floor with her stockings not on yet, and breakfast half -over. Marthy stopped long enough to have a good, long look at the child. - -[Illustration: On the floor with her stockings not on yet. 036] - -“If all the children was like Daisy Wallace,” she says, “they wouldn't -be so bad. She is the dearest thing I ever did see. She's got the cutest -way of kissin' a person on the eyelids.” - -“She looks to be just as lazy in the dressin' act as the rest,” I -remarked, and I was surprised, the way Marthy turned on me. - -“Why, Hiram Smith!” she cried; “didn't _you_ ever dawdle over your -dressin'? When I was a girl I got lots of fun out of being late to -breakfast. What difference does it make, anyway, when she is perfectly -lovely all the rest of the time? I simply love that child. I wonder,” - she said, sort of wistful, “if they would let us take her with us -to-day. She would enjoy it so.” - -“Foolishness,” I said. “We don't want to pull a kid along with us all -day; and anyhow, they are going to take her to the photographer's to-day -to have her picture took.” - -We went out around town, and up the hill road. The morning air was -great, and nobody on the road at all, so far as we could see, and we -stepped out brisk and lively. - -“Seems good to git away from the baby district, don't it?” I says, as -we was walkin' up the road. “We 're like Mister and Missus Robinson -Crusoe,” and at the very next turn we most fell over Bobby Jones and his -everlastin' chum, Rex, which is the most no-account dog on earth. - -“Where y' goin'?” he asks. - -“Nowheres particular,” says Marthy. “Just walkin' out to git the air.” - -“So'm I,” says he, and then he says, sort of bluffin', “I ain't lost.” - -“Yes you are, Bobby,” I says, severe as I could, “and if you know what's -good for a kid about your size you'd better turn right 'round and scoot -for home.” - -He looked at me as if he would like to know who I was, to be bossin' -him. - -“Ho!” he says, “You ain't my pa. I don't have to do what you say! I -won't go home for you!” - -Marthy was bendin' over him in a second. - -“Bobby,” she says, coaxing-like, “do you know what your folks is going -to have for dinner?” - -“No'm,” he says, as polite as you please. - -“I do,” says the little woman. “Ice cream. And if you git lost you won't -git home in time to git any.” - -Bobby looked up the road where he hadn't explored yet, and then looked -back the way he'd come, and then he smiled at Marthy and took off his -cap to her. - -“Thank you, Missus Smith,” he says. - -Marthy laughed as happy as a girl, and kissed him right on his dusty -face. She put her arms around him, even, and acted like she had never -seen a freckled boy before. - -“Nice boy,” I remarked, when Bobby had gone down the road toward town. - -“Nice!” says the little woman. “Nice! Is that all you can scrape up to -say? Why, there ain't a dearer child in our end of town than what Bobby -is. He's my sweetheart when you ain't at home. Hiram,” she says, looking -back at him as he paddled along kicking up the dust with his bare toes, -“I wonder if we dare take him with us?” - -“What about his ice-cream?” I says. “What about having a kid dragging -after us all day?” So we went on, but I seen she felt a little mite -lonely-like, as you might say. Which was queer. - -By ten o'clock we had got far enough from town, and we pushed through -a field that was all covered with flowers, and over to where the brook -was, with the tangle of trees and brush hiding it, and when I pushed -apart the brush to go through, I stopped and motioned for Marthy to come -quiet and look. - -There, sittin' on a tree trunk, as quiet as you please, was Teddy -Lawrence, with his eyes glued on to his bobber, and thinkin' of nothing -in the world but fish. I'm a right hearty fisher myself, and it done my -heart good to see the strictly-business way that kid had. Marthy moved a -little, and I put my hand on her to make her keep still. - -The boy lifted up his pole and looked at the bait like a regular old -hand. He dug a fresh, fat worm out of his can, and fixed it, and then I -fairly held my breath. Would he do it? No! But, hold on--yes! He leaned -over and spit on the bait to bring luck, just as natural as life! Say, -wasn't that real boy for you? I let the brush come together real quiet, -and me and Marthy slipped away. - -Well, sir, my five-dollar pole and my two-dollar reel, made me feel -sick. - -What did I know about fishing, anyhow? I felt right there what was the -truth, that all my fishing amounted to was, that I was tryin' to bring -back the joys I used to have when I was a kid, settin' on a log, happy -and lonesome, watchin' my bottle-cork joggle on the ripples. What was -the use? A feller can't go back to them days. There ain't nothing to do -about it. Unless, of course, he can sort of go forward to them in--well, -a feller could sort of live them days over agin in a boy of his own. - -“Wallace don't deserve that boy,” I says, sort of mad about I don't know -what. “What sort of a dad is that old book-worm of a Wallace for a boy -that likes to fish like Ted does? I'll bet Wallace never had a fish pole -in his hands since the day he was born. Now, if I had a boy like that I -could show him a thing or two about fishing. If I had a boy like that--” - -“Look there!” says Marthy, sudden. “Did you ever see anything sweeter -than what that is?” - -[Illustration: She was like a butterfly in amongs the butterflies. 46] - -Over on the other end of the field Ted's sister was strayin' around -in the flowers, her face all rosy with the fresh air. She was like a -butterfly in amongst the butterflies, a mighty pretty girl, and just -the age when a mother loves a girl best and when a mother takes the most -care of 'em. I like pretty things as well as the next man does, and I'll -say right here that there was something about that girl that made me -feel like I'd like to own her--just like I feel about a real pretty -rose, sort of covet to keep it just as it is forever, and take care that -it don't git spoiled any way. - -“I guess Mrs. Wallace don't rightly appreciate May,” says Marthy, -thoughtful-like. “I thinks she makes her study too much. When I was -May's age I had plenty of chances to git the fresh air, and you'd never -see me takin' up music-lessons in the summer. I spent my time feedin' -the chickens and runnin' about the farm, and enjoyin' life. It ain't -right, the way girls is forced in their studies nowadays. If I had a -girl like that--” - -“If you had, what'd you do?” I asks, kindly enough, but the little woman -only laughed. Mebby her laugh was a bit reckless, as you might say. - -“What's the use thinkin' what I'd do?” she says, turnin' round to go. -There didn't seem to be nothing special for me to say right then, so I -just put my arm around her, and we went on. - -We was plumb tired out when we got home, and mebby that is why we was -more than usual quiet at dinner. I sure wasn't cross, but somehow our -day hadn't panned out as satisfactory as we'd thought it would, and -mebby the cryin' of the Wilkins' new baby got on my nerves, we being -tired. I was glad when dinner was over and we could take our chairs and -go out on the porch. - -It was a fine night--still, and ca'm as you please. The only noise, not -countin' the cryin' of the Wilkins' kid, was the sounds of the laughin' -and chatter of the children in our end of town. But I was lonesome. -I can't speak for the little woman, how she felt, but _I_ felt -lonesome--and her right there beside me, too. - -Across the street we could see the two Hemingway children, who had -coaxed an extra half hour to wait for their father to come home before -they went to bed. They had their heads bent over a tumbler that they had -caught two fireflies in, and on the porch Mrs. Hemingway was rockin' the -sleepy baby. - -[Illustration: The two children run to the gate. 54] - -Then we heard Hemingway's whistle--he can't whistle, but he likes -to--and the two children dropped the tumbler, and run to the gate, and -then there was a rush, and a mingling up of Hemingway kids and father, -and the sleepy baby slid down from its ma's lap and stood, unsteady but -tryin' to git in the kissing, with its arms held out. Happy? - -I turned to the little woman, and I looked straight at her. Somehow I -knew that now, if ever, was a time for me to do some cheering-up. - -“Well, little woman,” I says, cheerful-like, “_we_ don't need a lot of -kids to bolster up our love, do we?” - -She gave my hand a soft squeeze in reply. - -“And about that gown--that silk gown,” I says, gaily. “Have you decided -what color it is to be yet? - -“Won't you be fine! When I think how fine you'll look, I'm glad we -haven't no children to--” - -Just then them Hemingways went inside, and our whole end of town was -quiet, and lonesome. - -Marthy didn't answer, and when I lifted up her face to kiss her, what -d'you think? She was cryin'! - - - - -II. WHEN SHE CAME - -Afore the kid come, me and Marthy used to sit up nights tellin' each -other how much we'd like it if she turned out to be a boy. I said -everything that I knowed that was nice about boys, and drawed on my -imagination for what I didn't know, and Marthy spoke the same; so I -convinced Marthy, thorough, that I would be terrible disappointed if it -wasn't a boy, and she didn't leave me no doubts about her hankerin' for -a baby of the male sect. - -Course we was both tryin' to square ourselves in case it _should_ be a -boy. Come to find out, we was both of us tickled to death that it was a -girl. - -We'd talked over boys' names by the bushel without ever coming to a -dead-set choice, but we most always squeezed in somewhere, sort of -apologetic, a remark that if it _should_ happen to be a girl we'd have -to call it Edith L., after its grandmother. Somehow, as I look back on -it, it seems as if I'd never thought of that kid, at any time, except as -Edith L. Curious how folks will try to fool theirselves that way. - -When it come to the auspicious occasion we had Doc Wolfert in, because -he was the only doc in our end of town. He certainly was a quaint old -bone-setter. Some said he took morphine on the sly, and some said it was -just his natural manner, but he was the shiftiest-eyed medic you ever -saw. No man livin' ever got him to say plain yes or no. He'd walk all -'round them little words, like he was afraid of steppin' on them, -and his gab was full of perhapses and possiblys, and similar slick -side-trackers of knowledge. - -I had figgered that when the aforesaid auspicious occasion turned up -I'd clean out to the woods until things got so I'd be useful as well as -ornamental; but when it come to a show-down, I couldn't. Farthest away I -could git was the front porch. I done my good twenty miles on the porch -that day, I'll bet, and whenever I've had a trial and tribulation time -since then, I can hear the sixth board from the south end of that porch -squeak. - -I was walkin' on the level, but my spirits was climbin' hills and -coastin' into valleys. First minute I would be stickin' out my chest -and thinkin' how all-fired grand it would be to be a daddy, and the next -minute I'd cave in like a frost-bitten squash and wonder how in -creation I'd ever drag along as a widow-man. One minute I'd see myself -sky-hootin' round with a fine kid on my arm, and the next I'd see myself -alone, with Marthy gone. I've got the reputation around here of being a -humorist man, but I didn't say no funny sayings to myself that day, that -I can remember. I had fever, and cold sweats, and double contraction -of the heart, and whenever I thought of Marthy, I couldn't think of a -decent thing that I'd ever done to her. I felt I was an ornery, lowdown -critter--which I ain't--and I saw Marthy as a spotless angel--which -she ain't neither. She's woman and earthly all through, and mighty good -earth at that. Marthy never knew what a good chance she lost of being -considered a perfectionated saint, but she missed the chance. - -Just about when I'd given up all hopes of ever seein' Marthy alive -again, Mrs. Murphy, (who we'd got in to sort of give the kid its first -toilet, it not being expected to be far enough advanced to do much -primping on its own account right at first) come to the door like a -blessed ray of sunshine, and percolated out a smile at me. - -Loony as I was, I had sense enough left to know that she wasn't smilin' -at me for flirtation, nor because she had a smile that she didn't know -what to do with and so was passing it out to me, like a hand-out, just -to git rid of it. I connected that smile with other things. I knowed she -was smiling me back from a desolate widow-hood, or widow-man-hood, or -whatever the right word is. I know the right word, but it's got mislaid. -Thank the stars I ain't ever had no use for it, and I hope never to -have. But I guess every man feels like I did when I was walkin' that -porch. When they shut the door on him, and turn him out, and tell him -they will call him when they want him, he's a widow-man right from that -moment and feels so. And when they call him in and say all's doin' as -well as could be expected under the circumstances, right then he feels -like his wife had rose from the dead, and he becomes a married man -again. I felt so, anyhow, and I don't know as I'm a specially fancy -feeler. I don't look it. - -Right then I was boosted, like I tell you, from a deep black hole to a -high and airy location, and by a plain-faced, baggy Irish lady that did -washing by the day at fifty cents a day, and you furnished the soap. -She's been my friend ever since, and always will be. - -As I passed in, feelin' more like war-whoopin' than like walkin' soft, -she whispered three words at me that finished me up. - -“It's a girl,” says she. “Walk light, and stay where you are, and when -you can come in and see the girl, I'll bring her out and show her to -you.” - -I was clean idiotic with satisfaction. I sat down on the edge of a chair -and twirled my hat until I couldn't sit still, and then got up and edged -round the room lookin' at the pictures on the wall, for all the world -like I was a visitor. I'd got half-way through lookin' at the things -on the what-not, and was castin' my eye round for the photygraft album, -when Mrs. Murphy stuck her blessed face into the parlor. - -“'Sh-h!” says she, “make no noise, and control your feelin's, and you -can come in for a quarter of a second and see your daughter.” - -I was so proud I had cold chills, and I walked like a clothes-horse on -castors. - -I looked for Marthy first, and I see she was a-sleepin' beautiful, and -then Mrs. Murphy pulled down the covers and showed me Edith L. - -[Illustration: Edith L. 66] - -I took her all in at a glance, and I formed my own opinion right there. -I was like a rubber balloon when you stick a pin in it, but I didn't -collapse with a bang, I just caved in gradual. I went out of the room, -and out of the house, and sat down on the porch-step and blubbered. They -never missed me. - -When I think back on that day it makes me laugh, but I was sure a rank -amateur in the baby business, and I didn't know no better then. Right -now I'd put up every cent I've got that you couldn't find a finer girl -in the state than what Edith L. is, and I've learned since that she was -what you might call an A-1 baby right from the start, but it didn't look -that way to me. She was the first of that age I'd ever been introduced -to, and she looked different than what I'd fig-gered on. I'd seen plenty -of brand new colts, and they run largely to legs, but you'd know them -for horse-critters right off; and I 've seen brand-new puppies, and -their eyes ain't open, but you'd know them immediate for dogs; but that -kid didn't look any more like what I'd calculated Edith L. would look -like, than a cucumber looks like a water-melon. My heart was plumb -broke. I was scairt when I thought what would happen to Marthy when she -saw that wrinkled, red little thing. - -I knew we'd have to keep it, but I didn't see how we could bear the -shame. I made up my mind in a minute that we'd sell off the place and -move up into the mountains--just me and Marthy and the girl. I didn't -think of her as Edith L. any more. It wouldn't do to insult mother by -givin' her name to that baby. - -I figgered it all out how I'd act better to Marthy than ever, to make up -for the trial that girl would be, and how I'd do all in man's power to -keep the girl from knowin' how handicapped she was by her looks. - -Just then Brink Tuomy passed by, and he says: - -“How's things comin' along?” - -The boys had all been mighty interested in this baby business, and I -knew he'd trot off and tell them, so I says, sad enough: - -“It's a girl.” - -Brink seen I wasn't very jubilant, so he says: - -“You don't seem very stuck up about it. But girls ain't so bad--when you -git used to them. Lady all right?” - -“Yes,” I says, “she's O. K.” - -Brink hung round a minute or two, waitin' for further orders, and none -comin', he says, hesitatin': - -“So long!” - -I let him go and was glad he went. - -I looked out across the river, and calculated how I could fix it so Mrs. -Murphy wouldn't say nothin' outside about that poor kid of mine, and how -to keep the kid hid until me and Marthy could take her and skin out for -the mountains. - -Mrs. Murphy was a terrible chatty lady--sort of perpetual phonygraft, -and wholesale and retail news agency. I guessed the best I could do was -to lock her in the cellar and then herd all comers away from the house. - -Doc Wolfert didn't bother me any. I knowed _he_ wouldn't give me away. - -If anybody could so much as git him to admit that there was a baby born -at my house they would be lucky. Just as a sample of what Doc was like, -take the case of Sandy Sam, who fell down the mine shaft and was brought -up in the bucket, as dead as Adam. Doc was on the ground as soon as -they brought Sandy up, and one of the boys that come late asked Doc what -caused the crowd to congregate. - -“Well,” says Doc, lookin' off at an angle into the air, “it looks like -Sandy Sam, or some other feller, fell down the mine shaft.” - -“Poor old Sam,” says the feller, “killed him, didn't it?” - -Doc looked at the sky and considered. - -“It's a remarkable deep shaft,” he says at last; “remarkable deep.” - “Thunder!” says the feller. “I know it's a deep shaft. What I asked you -is if Sam's dead. Is he?” - -Doc went off into a dream, and when he come to, he looks at the feller. - -“Oh!” he says, absent like. “Is Sam dead? Perhaps! Perhaps he is. -I shouldn't like to say. But,” he ended up, sort of pullin' hisself -together at the finish, “I wouldn't like to express an opinion, but I -guess the boys think he is. They are goin' to bury him.” - -So I wasn't afraid of Doc Wolfert blabbin'. I knowed the worst, and, -like everybody else, I wanted somebody to tell me it wasn't so bad as I -thought. - -I nailed Doc as he come out. I backed him up against a porch pillar and -conversed with him right there. I wanted to know just how bad it was. I -wanted to know what hope there was, if any. - -“Doc,” I said--and I was blessed glad I had a beard so he couldn't see -the quivers in my chin--“she's terrible undersized, ain't she?” - -“Hum!” says Doc. “You might call her small or you mightn't. I've seen -'em bigger, and I 've seen 'em smaller. I've seen 'em all sizes.” - -I couldn't see much help in that. “Doc,” I said, tremblin', “she won't -always be so--so dwarfed like, will she? She'll grow--some?” - -“Probably,” says Doc. “I'd hate to say she wouldn't.” - -I groaned. I had to. - -“Ain't her head a little off shape, Doc?” I stammered out. I guess the -shape of the head had worried me most of all. It wasn't just what I'd -known good heads to be. - -“You think so?” asked Doc, absent like. - -“Don't you?” I went back at him. - -“Tell me straight. I can stand the worst.” - -“Hum!” he says. “Heads differ. I've got to go--” - -“No you don't!” I says, backing him up against the post; “not till -you tell me. Her legs, now. Think they will ever straighten out? Think -she'll ever git over that red, scalded look? Think she'll ever be able -to talk, Doc?” - -Doc looked anxious toward the road. - -“Don't worry,” he says. “Don't fret. Keep cool and ca'm.” - -“Yes,” I says, scornful like. “Me keep cool! Don't you know I'm that -poor little, bent-up kid's daddy? Don't you know I looked forward -to callin' her Edith L.? Don't you know--? Doc,” I says, strong and -forcible, “money ain't no object in a case like this. Tell me this: -Shall I git a specialist? Would it do any good to send to Denver and -git a specialist, or Chicago, or New York?” Doc looked interested at the -horizon. - -“Why, no,” he says, “no! I don't see that it would.” - -I'll bet that that was the first time Doc ever said “No” straight out. -It settled me. I let go of his arm and sat right down. If Doc Wolfert -spoke up and said “No” I knew there wasn't nothing to be done. - -I sat there probably about a thousand years, if you count by feelin's. -I had a wish to go in and see the kid, and then, again, I hated to. -I hated for Mrs. Murphy to look at me; I felt I'd blubber, and I was -ashamed; but I knew I'd ought to be there to take Marthy's hand when she -woke up, and to lie to her about it not bein' so bad as she would think. - -That made me pull myself together. I made up my mind that I'd be a man, -anyway. I had Marthy to think of, and a man ain't made to be blubberin' -around when his women need help. I swallowed down the chunk of my neck -that had got stuck in my throat, and swiped my eyes, and stood on my -legs. When I turned, Mrs. Murphy was in the door. - -“Well,” she says, “you don't take much interest, I must say. Here you -sit enjoyin' the landscape, and your daughter askin' where her father -has gone to, and is she an orphan or what. Come in,” she says, “or -she'll be comin' out.” - -I walked in. - -I stopped a bit by the bedroom door to git up my courage, and then I -walked into the room. - -Marthy had her eyes open, and they looked up at me with a smile in them, -and then looked down again at the bunch on her arm under the quilt. - -“Come and see her,” she says, feeble but proud. “Come and see your -daughter, Edith L.” - -She slid down the covers so I could see her, and I looked at that kid -with a sick grin. - -“Ain't she lovely?” she says. - -“Sure!” I says, lying bravely. - -“Don't talk,” says Mrs. Murphy, speakin' to Marthy, “or the session is -ended.” - -“Just one word,” I says. “Marthy, are you satisfied with her--with the -kid?” - -“She's perfect!” she says, “perfect and lovely.” - -“All right,” I says, “then I don't mind.” - -Marthy smiled, sort of weak. - -“You will joke,” she says. - -“Joke!” says Mrs. Murphy, indignant; “insult, I call it. Did you ever -see a finer baby?” - -I looked to see if she winked. She didn't. - -“How so?” I asked, my voice all of a tremble. - -“How so?” she asks; “No 'how so' at all. She weighs ten pounds, and -she's sound in wind and limb,” she says, “and look at the grand shape -of her head! She'll be a college professoress at least, or maybe in -Congress before her pa. It's a grand baby she is!” - -“Ten pounds!” I says; “ain't that some dwarfish?” - -“Hear the man!” she says. “I don't believe he knows a fine baby when he -sees one.” - -“Do you mean that, Mrs. Murphy?” I asked, every bit of blood in me goin' -on the jump. - -“Mean it?” she says; “I've had six of my own, and not one of them could -hold a candle to this one.” - -“Marthy!” I says. “Is it so?” - -“Mrs. Murphy has fine children,” she says; “but my little girl, I think, -is finer.” - -[Illustration: Mrs. Murphy's Children 86] - -“How's her head?” I asked. “Perfect,” she says. - -“And her color?” - -“So healthy,” she says. - -“And her legs?” - -“So straight and strong,” she says. I took hold of her hand and squeezed -it good, and then I went to the window and looked out, and I saw all the -boys lined up along the fence waitin' for me to come out and let them -know that what I'd told Brink Tuomy was so. - -Proud? I was so proud I felt like givin' Mrs. Murphy a million dollars. - -“Dang it!” I yelped. “Let her dad have another good look at Edith L.” - - - - -III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK - - -NOW, you just take a good look this here right fist of mine. - -Looks like a ham, don't it? And see all them callouses on the palm. -Ain't that a tool fit to break rock with? And what'd you say if I told -you I used that once to hit that little, tender kid of mine? Actually -hit her! What you say to that? I won't forgit that night soon, I tell -you! - -Just figger to yourself that it's sundown, and the blinds pulled down in -the room where Deedee's cot was standin' like a little iron-barred -cage. We got into the way of callin' the kid Deedee, that bein' what she -called herself. There was all the signs that Deedee was goin' to sleep, -and the plainest sign was Deedee herself, standin' up in her crib, wide -awake, holdin' on to the foot of the crib, trampin' the sheets into a -tangle of white underbrush, as you might say, and no more asleep -than you are. The way Deedee went to sleep was like the death of an -alligator--it was a long and strenuous affair. - -Marthy stood lookin' at Deedee with reproaches in her eyes. We had a -sort of tradition in the family that Deedee had to go to sleep quick -and quiet, without any nonsense. Every night, when Marthy put the little -white rascal in the crib, she had hopes that the tradition would come -true, and every night it didn't. The go-to-sleep hour was the time -Deedee seemed to pick out to have an hour of especial lively fun, and -for weeks she had been breakin' the laws, and walkin' all over the rules -with her pink feet. She did not see, comin' up over the horizon, and -gittin' nearer every day, the stern and horrid Spank! - -We had got together in a sort of family conclave and decided that Deedee -was about old enough to be punished by layin' on of hands. We decided -it one time when Deedee was out of the room, and we had been right stern -about it. We could be stern about Deedee when she wasn't in sight. When -she come smilin' and singin' along we generally had to quit bein' stern, -and kiss her. - -Deedee was twenty-two months old, and she was ninety-eight per cent, -pure sweetness. Some of the women in our end of town said her short, -curly hair was tow-colored, but it wasn't so--they was just envious of -us. And one and all said her eyes was like round little bits of blue -sky. It was clear enough that she had inherited her sweetness from -Marthy; and some said it was equal clear that the two per cent, of -unadulterated stubbornness come from me. I said so myself, but I didn't -believe it. - -Deedee was gittin' to be a regular person. She could tell what she -wanted, and once in a while we could understand what it was. It was full -time, everybody said, that her education had ought to begin. If she was -goin' to grow up into a fine, sincere woman like Marthy, she must have -the right kind of start. Just the night before the day of the Spank, -Marthy had begun to teach her her religious education. Standin' up -at Marthy's knee--for Deedee would not kneel to God or man--she had -repeated:-- - - “Nowee-laimee-downee-seep, - Padee-O-so-tee.” - -Anybody had ought to know that was:-- - - “Now I lay me down to sleep, - I pray the Lord my soul to keep.” - -It was a fine success for a first start, only she didn't do what she -said she was goin' to do and “lay me down to sleep.” Instead of that she -stood up in her crib for about an hour, callin' for “Mamie,” the meanin' -of which was that she wanted to be rocked and have Marthy sing “Mary had -a little lamb,” to her. - -The day of the Spank had a bad openin'. When Deedee woke up, along -about five o'clock a.m., it was rainin' pitchforks, and that meant a -day indoors, and to start off, she stood up in her crib and called for -“laim.” - -Marthy woke up sort of realizin' that Deedee was repeatin' that word -slow, but regular, and she sat up and thought. “Laim” was a new word, -and the meanin' of it was unknown, but, whatever it was, Deedee wanted -it. She wanted it bad. Nothin' but “laim” would satisfy her. - -Marthy studied that word good and hard. It did not seem to suggest -anything to eat or drink, and, as near as Marthy could make out, it -didn't rightly apply to any toy, game, song, person, or anything else. -Marthy woke me up, and I sat up with a sigh. Deedee looked at me as if -she thought she would git what she wanted now, sure. - -“Laim, Deedee?” I asked, and she smiled as sweet as you please. - -“Papa, laim!” she says again. “Laim!” I says, thoughtful, lookin' around -the room and up at the ceilin'. I screwed up my forehead and studied, -and twisted my neck to look into the next room. “Laim! What's a 'laim,' -anyhow?” - -“I give it up,” I says, after I'd thought of everything in the world, -pretty near. “Mebby her grandpa would know. Mebby it's something he -taught her.” - -We lifted Deedee out of her crib, and set her down on the floor, and -she pattered down the hall. We could hear her tellin' him to give her -“laim,” and the puzzled way he answered her back. - -“Laim, birdy? What is it? Say it again, Deedee. Laim? Grand-daddy don't -know what you want, Deedee.” - -Neither did Uncle Ed, who was stayin' with us about then. Nobody knew -what “laim” was but Deedee, and she wanted it the worst way. She come -back, and stood by Marthy's bed, and just begged for it. - -It was a hard day for Marthy. It was Monday, and wash-day, so Deedee -couldn't bother Katie in the kitchen, and it was rainin' too. Deedee -just wandered through the house, like she had lost her last friend, and -then she would come back to Marthy and ask for “laim.” She wouldn't have -nothing to do with her toys, and she wouldn't sew with a pin, and -she wouldn't sit at the table and write, and she wouldn't look at the -photygraft book. And the worst of it was that she wouldn't keep still a -minute. - -[Illustration: She wouldn't keep still a minute 100] - -By noon-time Marthy had a headache. By sundown she had “nerves,” and -about then she began to look at Deedee with a sort of reproachful look. -Deedee had said that unknown word about ten thousand times. Marthy put -Deedee to bed in her crib, and I read once how Wellington, at Waterloo, -in the big fight they had there, prayed for night or Blücher, and that -was about how Marthy longed for the sandman or me to come. I was the -one that come, at last. I come in the house wet to the skin, and plumb -disgusted; my pants stickin' to my legs and all over mud, and I chucked -my soakin' hat and my umbrelly into a corner, the way a tired-out man -will, and just dropped into a chair, tuckered out. I let out one good, -long sigh of thanks that I was at the end of a hard day. - -“Hiram!” comes Marthy's voice; “Come in here, and see if you can do -anything with Edith. I have worked with her all day, and I'm played out; -I'm utter tired.” - -“Oh, plague!” I says. I sat a minute, drummin' on the arm of my chair, -and then I got upon my feet, and walked into the bedroom. - -“What's the matter?” I says, as near cross as I calculate I ever git, -and Marthy's eyes filled up. - -“I _can't_ do anything with her,” she says. “She _won't_ go to sleep. -She has been dreadful all day. I don't feel like I could stand it -another minute.” Marthy threw herself on the bed and covered up her face -with her hands. She was cryin'. - -I guess I frowned. - -Deedee looked up at me as sweet as a little angel. - -“Papa, laim,” she says. - -“No!” says I, “No laim, Deedee. You lie down and go to sleep like a good -girl. Papa'll fix your pillow nice.” - -I pounded up her pillow, and turned it over, and pulled the sheets out -straight. Then I took the baby and laid her down gentle. She smiled and -cuddled into the pillow. - -“Oh, what a nice bed!” I says. “Ain't it a nice bed, Deedee?” - -“Nice bed,” she allowed. - -“Will I cover your feet?” I says. - -“Feet cov,” she _says_, eager. - -So I spread the sheet up over her feet. - -“Shut little eyes,” I says in warning, but as gentle as you please, and -she shut up her eyes so tight her eyelids wrinkled. - -“Now, good night, Deedee,” I says. - -“'Night, pa--pa!” she coos. - -I stole out of the room as quiet as I knowed how, and dropped cautious -into my chair. I leaned back and smiled sort of grim. “That shows,” I -thinks, “that women ain't got the right kind of tact to handle a kid, or -else they 've got catchin' nerves. It shows how easy a man can--” - -“Papa, laim!” - -Deedee's clear little voice just cut what I was thinkin' into two -pieces. I was into that bedroom in about two steps. Deedee was standin' -up in her crib. - -“Papa, laim?” she says, sort of anxious. - -“No!” I says, stern in earnest. “No laim!” - -“Papa, laim!” she demands. - -“No!” I says, in a way that froze her smile right where it was. She -looked up at me doubtful-like, her little pink and white chin puckered -up all ready to cry. - -“Papa, laim, laim!” she pleaded. - -I reached over and forced her right back on to her pillow. - -“Deedee!” I says, in a voice that was new and that she wasn't acquainted -with; “go to sleep! Be quiet! Stop this instant, or I _will_ SPANK you!” - -I guess, mebby, the angels kept on singin' as joyful as ever up in -Heaven. I guess, mebby, somewhere out west further, the sun was shinin' -down gay on noddin', careless flowers. Mebby, even in the next block, -some good baby was bein' snuggled up in its ma's arms; but to Deedee, -lyin' in the corner of her crib, the world had got a million years -older in about a minute. Her world that had been all smiles and pleasant -things had turned into a world of hard words and cruel faces. Her mama -dear had on a mask of unfeelin' coldness. Her papa dear stood up there -towerin' above her, a sort of giant of wrath, flourishin' an awful, -mysterious weapon, the word “spank.” - -It looked like everybody had gone back on her. Her friends--which was -me and Marthy, her playmates--which was me and Marthy, her lovers--which -was me and Marthy, the providers of her joy--which was me and Marthy, -had turned into avengers. She was all alone in a world of clubs. Just -one wee kid and everybody against her. - -She lay there a minute palpitatin', with her chin tremblin' piteous. -What was to be did when her parents vanished, and these strange, harsh -people took their places? - -She crep' to the foot of the crib, where I was still standin', and she -got up and took hold of my arm and hugged it. - -“Pa-pa!” she says, loving. - -I pushed her back on the pillow again, gentle but firm. - -“Edith,” I says in the hard voice she wasn't acquainted with; “Lie down -and go to sleep. I don't want to have no more of this. Go to sleep!” I -heard the dinner bell tinkle from the dinin'-room, and I helped Marthy -to git up, and we went out, and left Deedee alone in the dark. - -I ate the first part of my dinner without sayin' anything. It wasn't -exactly easy to be lively under them circumstances. Even Uncle Ned -didn't say nothin', and grand-daddy didn't feel called on to start a -conversation. It got so we was so quiet it hurt. Uncle Ed made bold to -speak. - -“When I was a kid,” he says, lightly, “I used to git spanked with a -six-inch plank.” - -“Edward!” says Marthy. “How can you say such a thing?” - -“It done me good,” he says. “You can't begin too young. We 've all got -the devil in us, and the only way to git it out is to pound it out.” - -Marthy laid down her fork, and her lips trembled. - -“Cut that out, Ed,” I says. “Marthy has the nerves to-night; the subject -ain't popular.” - -“I think she's goin' to be good now,” says grand-daddy, who always stuck -up for the kid bein' the best that ever lived. “She seems quiet enough. -She must have gone off to sleep.” - -“I sure do hope so,” says Marthy. “I never had such a day with her.” - “Mama, laim!” came the little voice from the bedroom, of a sudden. - -“I met Tuomy to-day,” I says, “and he--” - -“Mama, laim! Mama, laim!” called Deedee. - -“He asked to be remembered to you,” I says. “He was with May Wilson--” - -From the bedroom come a low, maddenin' wail:-- - -“Mama, laim! Papa, laim!” - -It kept gittin' louder. It got to be a regular cry, punctuated off here -and there with calls for “laim.” - -Marthy looked at me, hopeless. I seen the look and looked down at my -plate. - -“I'll spank her when I'm done my dinner,” I says. “There's no other -way.” - -We didn't say much durin' the rest of that meal. It was a very solemn -feast. We was all thinkin' of Deedee. There wasn't no doubt that the -time had come we had been afraid of. The punishment and the crime was -properly fitted to each other. - -Now, or never, was the time to spank; but we was a ridiculous -tender-hearted family, and, as the dinner went on, the spankin' -of Deedee loomed up bigger than Pike's Peak. It piled up huge and -record-breakin' above the tea-pots and the puddin's, and looked about as -important as the end of the world, or a big war. - -When we got up it was like the condemned goin' to the execution, and we -marched into the front room like a jury, bringin' in the death verdict, -files into the court room. - -Deedee still cried for “laim.” - -We four sat down, and looked at the carpet, as gloomy as a funeral. -I opened my mouth, swallowed hard two times, and shut it again. Uncle -Edward tapped on the carpet with his toe, grand-daddy looked at one of -the spots on the same carpet like it was a personal insult to him, and -Marthy smoothed out one of the roses on it with her heel. We wasn't half -so interested in that carpet when we bought it as we looked to be that -very minute. - -“Well?” says Marthy, at last. I kept my eye away from hers. I looked out -of the window. Next I got up and stood by the window and stuck my hands -deep down into my pants pockets. - -“If you 're goin' to--” says Marthy. “If you ain't--” - -Deedee was gittin' too bad to stand. It looked as if the neighbors would -be comin' in to complain, next thing. - -I turned around and walked slow toward the bedroom. The three other -grown-ups sat like stone statures. As I pushed aside the curtains, -Marthy jumped across the room and grabbed me by the arm. - -“Hiram!” she cried eager, “You won't be too severe? You won't git mad -and hurt her?” - -“Marthy,” I says, “if you want to spank her, do so. If you want me to -spank her, don't you mix in.” I shook her hand off of me, and she went -back to her chair cryin'. - -Well, I went into that bedroom. Deedee left off cryin' when she seen me, -and in the dim light I could see her standin' in the crib. I stuck out -my hand to take her, and she hung on to it. - -“Papa, laim!” she begged. - -“Edith,” I says, hoarse in my throat, “you 've been naughty. Papa told -you to go to sleep, and mama told you to go to sleep. When we tell you -to go to sleep, you've got to go to sleep. Now, this is the last time -I'm goin' to tell you. Will you lie down and go to sleep?” - -“Papa, laim!” she says, impatient. - -I set my mouth and lifted her up and laid her on the bed on her face and -held her there. She struggled and yelled. - -“Be quiet!” I says, “be quiet, or I will spank you!” - -She gave one long, lingerin' cry for “laim.” - -I took a long breath, and lifted up my hand, and--and--I ain't a-goin' -to tell about that. Let's go into the other room. - -There set the three other grownups, holdin' their hands over their ears, -with pained lookin' faces. Even at that they heard the sound of a dozen -short, sharp claps, and the sound of the quick cries, and then there was -a silent spell, only broke by the great big sobs of the little kid in -the next room,--sobs that sort of exploded their way out, shakin' the -little body till the crib rattled. - -[Illustration: The sobbin' got weaker and weaker 120] - -The sobbin' got weaker and weaker, and come further apart, and I stole -out of the bedroom, wipin' my face with my handkerchief. - -“I think she'll be a good girly now,” says grand-daddy, gentle-like. - -That baby, shocked and surprised, laid on the pillow thinkin', as much -as a baby could think. Something cruel and unexpected had happened to -her. - -Me and Marthy had turned cruel. She didn't have no one to love up to. -She had been hurt. Her papa dear had hurt her, because she had cried for -“laim.” - -“I hope she will,” says Marthy in reply to grand-daddy, and that minute -from the bedroom, come Deedee's voice. - -“Papa!” it pleaded. - -I jumped up from my chair. Evidently that child needed-- - -“Papa, kiss!” says Deedee, soft and pleadin'. - -Well, I rather guess we all kissed her! We hugged her until she was -gaspin' for breath, and she smiled at us, and forgive us all, even while -the sobs come once in a while to interfere with her smilin'. - -“Ain't she a dear, _dear_ baby?” cried Marthy. “Poor little thing!” - -When we had loved her enough to spoil any good the spankin' had done, -Marthy drove us out. - -“Come, deary,” she says to Deedee, “say your little prayers, mama -forgot.” - -Deedee pressed up against her ma's knee, joyous. - -“Now I--” Marthy prompts her. - -“Nowee--” says Deedee. - -“Lay me--” says Marthy. - -“_Laim_,” says Deedee, tickled as you please, and then wonderin' why the -whole lot of us shouts out “Laim!” of a sudden, and why we laugh, and -crowd 'round her, and kiss her, and kiss her! - -“Poor baby!” says Marthy. “To be spanked for wantin' to say her -prayers!” - -“By George!” says Uncle Edward. “Talk about your martyrs! She beats the -whole bunch!” - -And to think there was once a time when me and Marthy thought a kid was -more bother than it was worth! There ain't no child, nowhere, that ain't -worth more than everything else in the world all put together. No, sir! -A baby has got more human nature in it than a man has, even. You take -your big, rough hand to it, and you chastise it, so that it screams out, -and the next minute it takes time in between sobs to hug its soft little -arms around your neck, and kiss you. Ain't that the reallest kind of -human nature? Why, that's the kind that makes the world worth livin' in -at all. - -I don't seem to recollect ever hearin' that Heaven was set aside as a -sort of place where married folks could hang about by twos. Them that -has had experience knows that that would be a mighty poor kind of -heaven--one without children in it. It's the child kind of human nature -that sweetens up the world. The “give and take” kind--take your spankin' -when it comes, and give back love in return for it. - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - -***** This file should be named 44148-0.txt or 44148-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/4/44148/ - -Produced by David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/44148-0.zip b/old/44148-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c768628..0000000 --- a/old/44148-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/44148-8.txt b/old/44148-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f84ff1a..0000000 --- a/old/44148-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1515 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Confessions of a Daddy - -Author: Ellis Parker Butler - -Illustrator: Fanny Y. Cory - -Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44148] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY - -By Ellis Parker Butler - -With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory - -New York The Century Co. - -1907 - - -TO - -ELSIE McCOLM BUTLER A VERY GOOD CHILD THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED BY HER -FATHER - - - - -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY - - - - -I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES - -I guess we folks that live up at our end of town think we are about as -good as anybody in Colorado, and mebby a little better. We get along -together as pleasant as you please, and we are a sort of colony, as you -might say, all by ourselves. - -Me and Marthy make especial good neighbors. We don't have no fights with -the other folks in our end of town, and in them days the neighbors hadn't -any reason to fight with us, for we didn't keep a dog and we hadn't -no children! I take notice that it is other folks dogs and children -that make most of the bad feelin's between neighbors. Of course we had -mosquitos, but Providence gives everybody something to practise up -their patience, and when me and Marthy sat out on our porch and heard -other people's children frettin' because the mosquitos was bad, we just -sat there behind our screened porch and thanked our stars that we did -n't have no children to leave our screen doors open. - -It was n't but right that me and Marthy should act accordingly. I don't -mean that we were uppish about it, but we did feel that we could live a -little better than our neighbors that had all the expense of children, -and if our house was fixed up a little better, and we was able to go off -three or four weeks in the summer to the mountains, when all the rest -stayed right at home, we had a right to feel pleased about it. Lots of -times we had things our neighbors could n't afford, and then the little -woman would say to me: "Hiram, you don't know how thankful I am that we -ain't got any children," and I agreed with her every time, and did it -hearty, too. - -'T was n't that we hated children. Far from it. We just thought that -when we saw all the extra worry and trouble and expense that other -people's children brought about, we were right satisfied to live the way -we had lived the five years since we was married--our neighbors still -called us the "Bride and Groom." Nor I can't say that we were happier -than the other folks in our end of town, but we was more care-free. We -lived more joyous, as you might say. - -One night when I come home from the store Marthy met me at the corner, -and when I had tucked her arm under mine, I asked her what was the news. -Bobby Jones had cut his finger bad; Stell Marks had took the measles; -little Tot Hemingway had run off, and her ma had gone near crazy until -the kid was found again; the Wallaces was n't goin' to take no vacation -this year at all because Fred was to go off to school in the fall, and -they could n't afford both. It was the usual lot of news of children -bein' trouble and expense. - -I was feelin' fine, the next day bein' a holiday, and Marthy, with the -slick way women has, sprung a favor on me just when she set the broiled -steak on the table. Extry thick, and burnt brown--that's my favorite -steak--and whenever I see it that way my mouth waters, and I look out -for a favor to be asked. - -"Hiram," she says, quite as if she was openin' up a usual bit of talk, -"did you take notice of Mrs. Hemingway's silk dress last Sunday?" - -"Why no, Marthy," I says, "I didn't. Was it new?" - -"New!" she laughed. "The idee! That's just what it wasn't. I believe she -has had that same silk ever since we have lived in this end of town, and -no one knows how much longer. It's a shame. She puts every cent she can -dig up on those children of hers, and has hardly a decent thing of her -own. I feel right sorry for her." - -"I feel sorry for Hemingway," says I. "The old boy is workin' himself to -death. He never gits home until supper is all over, and he told me just -now that he felt it his bounden duty to work to-morrow. I tell you, -Marthy, children is an expensive luxury!" - -"That's just what they are," she agreed. "If it wasn't for their -children, the Hemingways could live every bit as good as we do, and he -wouldn't have to work of nights, poor fellow. But, Hiram," she says, as -if the idee had just hit her, "do you recall to mind when this end of -town has seen a new silk dress?" - -"Why, no--no," I said; "when was it?" - -"Years ago!" says the little woman. "I was figgerin' it up to-day, and -it was full two years ago. Ain't it awful?" - -"Downright scandalous!" I says. "And just on account of those children, -too!" - -Marthy looked down at her plate, innocent as you please. - -"I'm glad we ain't got any children, Hiram," she says, full of mischief. - -That tickled me. I was tickled to see how she was tickled to think she -had trapped me. - -"I guess it's our bounden duty to hold up the honor of our end of town -by showin' it a new silk dress," I says, and the next thing I knew I was -fightin' to keep her from chokin' me to death. - -All that evening Marthy was unusual quiet and right happy, too. As she -sat on the porch her eyes would wander off over-the-hills-and-far-away, -and I knew she was lost in joyous tanglements of bias and gores and -plaits, where a man can't foller if he wants to. But when we went inside -and had the blinds pulled down she put her arms around my neck again and -gave me another choke. - -"Dear, dear old Hiram!" she says, and her eyes was tear-wet. "Just -think! A new silk dress!" And just then there came into the room the -noise of the Marks child--the one with the measles--whimpering. - -"Ain't you glad," says the little woman, "that we haven't any children -to spoil all our fun, and bother us?" and when I looked down into that -happy little face of hers, I was glad, and no mistake. - -The next day was a beauty. It came in like a glory, and we was up -almost as soon as the sun was; for we had figgered on one of our regular -old-time jolly days by ourselves on the hills--one of the kind that made -our end of town call us the "Bride and Groom." It was our plan to take -a good lunch, and just wander. Marthy was to take a book, and I was to -take my fishin' tackle, and beyond that was whatever happy thing that -turned up. - -"If we had children," she said, "we couldn't go off on these long tramps -by ourselves." - -We got away while the neighbors in our end of town were still at -breakfast, and as we passed the Wallace's place we ran up to holler -good-by through the window at them, and there was the youngest Wallace -foolin' on the floor with her stockings not on yet, and breakfast half -over. Marthy stopped long enough to have a good, long look at the child. - -[Illustration: On the floor with her stockings not on yet. 036] - -"If all the children was like Daisy Wallace," she says, "they wouldn't -be so bad. She is the dearest thing I ever did see. She's got the cutest -way of kissin' a person on the eyelids." - -"She looks to be just as lazy in the dressin' act as the rest," I -remarked, and I was surprised, the way Marthy turned on me. - -"Why, Hiram Smith!" she cried; "didn't _you_ ever dawdle over your -dressin'? When I was a girl I got lots of fun out of being late to -breakfast. What difference does it make, anyway, when she is perfectly -lovely all the rest of the time? I simply love that child. I wonder," -she said, sort of wistful, "if they would let us take her with us -to-day. She would enjoy it so." - -"Foolishness," I said. "We don't want to pull a kid along with us all -day; and anyhow, they are going to take her to the photographer's to-day -to have her picture took." - -We went out around town, and up the hill road. The morning air was -great, and nobody on the road at all, so far as we could see, and we -stepped out brisk and lively. - -"Seems good to git away from the baby district, don't it?" I says, as -we was walkin' up the road. "We 're like Mister and Missus Robinson -Crusoe," and at the very next turn we most fell over Bobby Jones and his -everlastin' chum, Rex, which is the most no-account dog on earth. - -"Where y' goin'?" he asks. - -"Nowheres particular," says Marthy. "Just walkin' out to git the air." - -"So'm I," says he, and then he says, sort of bluffin', "I ain't lost." - -"Yes you are, Bobby," I says, severe as I could, "and if you know what's -good for a kid about your size you'd better turn right 'round and scoot -for home." - -He looked at me as if he would like to know who I was, to be bossin' -him. - -"Ho!" he says, "You ain't my pa. I don't have to do what you say! I -won't go home for you!" - -Marthy was bendin' over him in a second. - -"Bobby," she says, coaxing-like, "do you know what your folks is going -to have for dinner?" - -"No'm," he says, as polite as you please. - -"I do," says the little woman. "Ice cream. And if you git lost you won't -git home in time to git any." - -Bobby looked up the road where he hadn't explored yet, and then looked -back the way he'd come, and then he smiled at Marthy and took off his -cap to her. - -"Thank you, Missus Smith," he says. - -Marthy laughed as happy as a girl, and kissed him right on his dusty -face. She put her arms around him, even, and acted like she had never -seen a freckled boy before. - -"Nice boy," I remarked, when Bobby had gone down the road toward town. - -"Nice!" says the little woman. "Nice! Is that all you can scrape up to -say? Why, there ain't a dearer child in our end of town than what Bobby -is. He's my sweetheart when you ain't at home. Hiram," she says, looking -back at him as he paddled along kicking up the dust with his bare toes, -"I wonder if we dare take him with us?" - -"What about his ice-cream?" I says. "What about having a kid dragging -after us all day?" So we went on, but I seen she felt a little mite -lonely-like, as you might say. Which was queer. - -By ten o'clock we had got far enough from town, and we pushed through -a field that was all covered with flowers, and over to where the brook -was, with the tangle of trees and brush hiding it, and when I pushed -apart the brush to go through, I stopped and motioned for Marthy to come -quiet and look. - -There, sittin' on a tree trunk, as quiet as you please, was Teddy -Lawrence, with his eyes glued on to his bobber, and thinkin' of nothing -in the world but fish. I'm a right hearty fisher myself, and it done my -heart good to see the strictly-business way that kid had. Marthy moved a -little, and I put my hand on her to make her keep still. - -The boy lifted up his pole and looked at the bait like a regular old -hand. He dug a fresh, fat worm out of his can, and fixed it, and then I -fairly held my breath. Would he do it? No! But, hold on--yes! He leaned -over and spit on the bait to bring luck, just as natural as life! Say, -wasn't that real boy for you? I let the brush come together real quiet, -and me and Marthy slipped away. - -Well, sir, my five-dollar pole and my two-dollar reel, made me feel -sick. - -What did I know about fishing, anyhow? I felt right there what was the -truth, that all my fishing amounted to was, that I was tryin' to bring -back the joys I used to have when I was a kid, settin' on a log, happy -and lonesome, watchin' my bottle-cork joggle on the ripples. What was -the use? A feller can't go back to them days. There ain't nothing to do -about it. Unless, of course, he can sort of go forward to them in--well, -a feller could sort of live them days over agin in a boy of his own. - -"Wallace don't deserve that boy," I says, sort of mad about I don't know -what. "What sort of a dad is that old book-worm of a Wallace for a boy -that likes to fish like Ted does? I'll bet Wallace never had a fish pole -in his hands since the day he was born. Now, if I had a boy like that I -could show him a thing or two about fishing. If I had a boy like that--" - -"Look there!" says Marthy, sudden. "Did you ever see anything sweeter -than what that is?" - -[Illustration: She was like a butterfly in amongs the butterflies. 46] - -Over on the other end of the field Ted's sister was strayin' around -in the flowers, her face all rosy with the fresh air. She was like a -butterfly in amongst the butterflies, a mighty pretty girl, and just -the age when a mother loves a girl best and when a mother takes the most -care of 'em. I like pretty things as well as the next man does, and I'll -say right here that there was something about that girl that made me -feel like I'd like to own her--just like I feel about a real pretty -rose, sort of covet to keep it just as it is forever, and take care that -it don't git spoiled any way. - -"I guess Mrs. Wallace don't rightly appreciate May," says Marthy, -thoughtful-like. "I thinks she makes her study too much. When I was -May's age I had plenty of chances to git the fresh air, and you'd never -see me takin' up music-lessons in the summer. I spent my time feedin' -the chickens and runnin' about the farm, and enjoyin' life. It ain't -right, the way girls is forced in their studies nowadays. If I had a -girl like that--" - -"If you had, what'd you do?" I asks, kindly enough, but the little woman -only laughed. Mebby her laugh was a bit reckless, as you might say. - -"What's the use thinkin' what I'd do?" she says, turnin' round to go. -There didn't seem to be nothing special for me to say right then, so I -just put my arm around her, and we went on. - -We was plumb tired out when we got home, and mebby that is why we was -more than usual quiet at dinner. I sure wasn't cross, but somehow our -day hadn't panned out as satisfactory as we'd thought it would, and -mebby the cryin' of the Wilkins' new baby got on my nerves, we being -tired. I was glad when dinner was over and we could take our chairs and -go out on the porch. - -It was a fine night--still, and ca'm as you please. The only noise, not -countin' the cryin' of the Wilkins' kid, was the sounds of the laughin' -and chatter of the children in our end of town. But I was lonesome. -I can't speak for the little woman, how she felt, but _I_ felt -lonesome--and her right there beside me, too. - -Across the street we could see the two Hemingway children, who had -coaxed an extra half hour to wait for their father to come home before -they went to bed. They had their heads bent over a tumbler that they had -caught two fireflies in, and on the porch Mrs. Hemingway was rockin' the -sleepy baby. - -[Illustration: The two children run to the gate. 54] - -Then we heard Hemingway's whistle--he can't whistle, but he likes -to--and the two children dropped the tumbler, and run to the gate, and -then there was a rush, and a mingling up of Hemingway kids and father, -and the sleepy baby slid down from its ma's lap and stood, unsteady but -tryin' to git in the kissing, with its arms held out. Happy? - -I turned to the little woman, and I looked straight at her. Somehow I -knew that now, if ever, was a time for me to do some cheering-up. - -"Well, little woman," I says, cheerful-like, "_we_ don't need a lot of -kids to bolster up our love, do we?" - -She gave my hand a soft squeeze in reply. - -"And about that gown--that silk gown," I says, gaily. "Have you decided -what color it is to be yet? - -"Won't you be fine! When I think how fine you'll look, I'm glad we -haven't no children to--" - -Just then them Hemingways went inside, and our whole end of town was -quiet, and lonesome. - -Marthy didn't answer, and when I lifted up her face to kiss her, what -d'you think? She was cryin'! - - - - -II. WHEN SHE CAME - -Afore the kid come, me and Marthy used to sit up nights tellin' each -other how much we'd like it if she turned out to be a boy. I said -everything that I knowed that was nice about boys, and drawed on my -imagination for what I didn't know, and Marthy spoke the same; so I -convinced Marthy, thorough, that I would be terrible disappointed if it -wasn't a boy, and she didn't leave me no doubts about her hankerin' for -a baby of the male sect. - -Course we was both tryin' to square ourselves in case it _should_ be a -boy. Come to find out, we was both of us tickled to death that it was a -girl. - -We'd talked over boys' names by the bushel without ever coming to a -dead-set choice, but we most always squeezed in somewhere, sort of -apologetic, a remark that if it _should_ happen to be a girl we'd have -to call it Edith L., after its grandmother. Somehow, as I look back on -it, it seems as if I'd never thought of that kid, at any time, except as -Edith L. Curious how folks will try to fool theirselves that way. - -When it come to the auspicious occasion we had Doc Wolfert in, because -he was the only doc in our end of town. He certainly was a quaint old -bone-setter. Some said he took morphine on the sly, and some said it was -just his natural manner, but he was the shiftiest-eyed medic you ever -saw. No man livin' ever got him to say plain yes or no. He'd walk all -'round them little words, like he was afraid of steppin' on them, -and his gab was full of perhapses and possiblys, and similar slick -side-trackers of knowledge. - -I had figgered that when the aforesaid auspicious occasion turned up -I'd clean out to the woods until things got so I'd be useful as well as -ornamental; but when it come to a show-down, I couldn't. Farthest away I -could git was the front porch. I done my good twenty miles on the porch -that day, I'll bet, and whenever I've had a trial and tribulation time -since then, I can hear the sixth board from the south end of that porch -squeak. - -I was walkin' on the level, but my spirits was climbin' hills and -coastin' into valleys. First minute I would be stickin' out my chest -and thinkin' how all-fired grand it would be to be a daddy, and the next -minute I'd cave in like a frost-bitten squash and wonder how in -creation I'd ever drag along as a widow-man. One minute I'd see myself -sky-hootin' round with a fine kid on my arm, and the next I'd see myself -alone, with Marthy gone. I've got the reputation around here of being a -humorist man, but I didn't say no funny sayings to myself that day, that -I can remember. I had fever, and cold sweats, and double contraction -of the heart, and whenever I thought of Marthy, I couldn't think of a -decent thing that I'd ever done to her. I felt I was an ornery, lowdown -critter--which I ain't--and I saw Marthy as a spotless angel--which -she ain't neither. She's woman and earthly all through, and mighty good -earth at that. Marthy never knew what a good chance she lost of being -considered a perfectionated saint, but she missed the chance. - -Just about when I'd given up all hopes of ever seein' Marthy alive -again, Mrs. Murphy, (who we'd got in to sort of give the kid its first -toilet, it not being expected to be far enough advanced to do much -primping on its own account right at first) come to the door like a -blessed ray of sunshine, and percolated out a smile at me. - -Loony as I was, I had sense enough left to know that she wasn't smilin' -at me for flirtation, nor because she had a smile that she didn't know -what to do with and so was passing it out to me, like a hand-out, just -to git rid of it. I connected that smile with other things. I knowed she -was smiling me back from a desolate widow-hood, or widow-man-hood, or -whatever the right word is. I know the right word, but it's got mislaid. -Thank the stars I ain't ever had no use for it, and I hope never to -have. But I guess every man feels like I did when I was walkin' that -porch. When they shut the door on him, and turn him out, and tell him -they will call him when they want him, he's a widow-man right from that -moment and feels so. And when they call him in and say all's doin' as -well as could be expected under the circumstances, right then he feels -like his wife had rose from the dead, and he becomes a married man -again. I felt so, anyhow, and I don't know as I'm a specially fancy -feeler. I don't look it. - -Right then I was boosted, like I tell you, from a deep black hole to a -high and airy location, and by a plain-faced, baggy Irish lady that did -washing by the day at fifty cents a day, and you furnished the soap. -She's been my friend ever since, and always will be. - -As I passed in, feelin' more like war-whoopin' than like walkin' soft, -she whispered three words at me that finished me up. - -"It's a girl," says she. "Walk light, and stay where you are, and when -you can come in and see the girl, I'll bring her out and show her to -you." - -I was clean idiotic with satisfaction. I sat down on the edge of a chair -and twirled my hat until I couldn't sit still, and then got up and edged -round the room lookin' at the pictures on the wall, for all the world -like I was a visitor. I'd got half-way through lookin' at the things -on the what-not, and was castin' my eye round for the photygraft album, -when Mrs. Murphy stuck her blessed face into the parlor. - -"'Sh-h!" says she, "make no noise, and control your feelin's, and you -can come in for a quarter of a second and see your daughter." - -I was so proud I had cold chills, and I walked like a clothes-horse on -castors. - -I looked for Marthy first, and I see she was a-sleepin' beautiful, and -then Mrs. Murphy pulled down the covers and showed me Edith L. - -[Illustration: Edith L. 66] - -I took her all in at a glance, and I formed my own opinion right there. -I was like a rubber balloon when you stick a pin in it, but I didn't -collapse with a bang, I just caved in gradual. I went out of the room, -and out of the house, and sat down on the porch-step and blubbered. They -never missed me. - -When I think back on that day it makes me laugh, but I was sure a rank -amateur in the baby business, and I didn't know no better then. Right -now I'd put up every cent I've got that you couldn't find a finer girl -in the state than what Edith L. is, and I've learned since that she was -what you might call an A-1 baby right from the start, but it didn't look -that way to me. She was the first of that age I'd ever been introduced -to, and she looked different than what I'd fig-gered on. I'd seen plenty -of brand new colts, and they run largely to legs, but you'd know them -for horse-critters right off; and I 've seen brand-new puppies, and -their eyes ain't open, but you'd know them immediate for dogs; but that -kid didn't look any more like what I'd calculated Edith L. would look -like, than a cucumber looks like a water-melon. My heart was plumb -broke. I was scairt when I thought what would happen to Marthy when she -saw that wrinkled, red little thing. - -I knew we'd have to keep it, but I didn't see how we could bear the -shame. I made up my mind in a minute that we'd sell off the place and -move up into the mountains--just me and Marthy and the girl. I didn't -think of her as Edith L. any more. It wouldn't do to insult mother by -givin' her name to that baby. - -I figgered it all out how I'd act better to Marthy than ever, to make up -for the trial that girl would be, and how I'd do all in man's power to -keep the girl from knowin' how handicapped she was by her looks. - -Just then Brink Tuomy passed by, and he says: - -"How's things comin' along?" - -The boys had all been mighty interested in this baby business, and I -knew he'd trot off and tell them, so I says, sad enough: - -"It's a girl." - -Brink seen I wasn't very jubilant, so he says: - -"You don't seem very stuck up about it. But girls ain't so bad--when you -git used to them. Lady all right?" - -"Yes," I says, "she's O. K." - -Brink hung round a minute or two, waitin' for further orders, and none -comin', he says, hesitatin': - -"So long!" - -I let him go and was glad he went. - -I looked out across the river, and calculated how I could fix it so Mrs. -Murphy wouldn't say nothin' outside about that poor kid of mine, and how -to keep the kid hid until me and Marthy could take her and skin out for -the mountains. - -Mrs. Murphy was a terrible chatty lady--sort of perpetual phonygraft, -and wholesale and retail news agency. I guessed the best I could do was -to lock her in the cellar and then herd all comers away from the house. - -Doc Wolfert didn't bother me any. I knowed _he_ wouldn't give me away. - -If anybody could so much as git him to admit that there was a baby born -at my house they would be lucky. Just as a sample of what Doc was like, -take the case of Sandy Sam, who fell down the mine shaft and was brought -up in the bucket, as dead as Adam. Doc was on the ground as soon as -they brought Sandy up, and one of the boys that come late asked Doc what -caused the crowd to congregate. - -"Well," says Doc, lookin' off at an angle into the air, "it looks like -Sandy Sam, or some other feller, fell down the mine shaft." - -"Poor old Sam," says the feller, "killed him, didn't it?" - -Doc looked at the sky and considered. - -"It's a remarkable deep shaft," he says at last; "remarkable deep." -"Thunder!" says the feller. "I know it's a deep shaft. What I asked you -is if Sam's dead. Is he?" - -Doc went off into a dream, and when he come to, he looks at the feller. - -"Oh!" he says, absent like. "Is Sam dead? Perhaps! Perhaps he is. -I shouldn't like to say. But," he ended up, sort of pullin' hisself -together at the finish, "I wouldn't like to express an opinion, but I -guess the boys think he is. They are goin' to bury him." - -So I wasn't afraid of Doc Wolfert blabbin'. I knowed the worst, and, -like everybody else, I wanted somebody to tell me it wasn't so bad as I -thought. - -I nailed Doc as he come out. I backed him up against a porch pillar and -conversed with him right there. I wanted to know just how bad it was. I -wanted to know what hope there was, if any. - -"Doc," I said--and I was blessed glad I had a beard so he couldn't see -the quivers in my chin--"she's terrible undersized, ain't she?" - -"Hum!" says Doc. "You might call her small or you mightn't. I've seen -'em bigger, and I 've seen 'em smaller. I've seen 'em all sizes." - -I couldn't see much help in that. "Doc," I said, tremblin', "she won't -always be so--so dwarfed like, will she? She'll grow--some?" - -"Probably," says Doc. "I'd hate to say she wouldn't." - -I groaned. I had to. - -"Ain't her head a little off shape, Doc?" I stammered out. I guess the -shape of the head had worried me most of all. It wasn't just what I'd -known good heads to be. - -"You think so?" asked Doc, absent like. - -"Don't you?" I went back at him. - -"Tell me straight. I can stand the worst." - -"Hum!" he says. "Heads differ. I've got to go--" - -"No you don't!" I says, backing him up against the post; "not till -you tell me. Her legs, now. Think they will ever straighten out? Think -she'll ever git over that red, scalded look? Think she'll ever be able -to talk, Doc?" - -Doc looked anxious toward the road. - -"Don't worry," he says. "Don't fret. Keep cool and ca'm." - -"Yes," I says, scornful like. "Me keep cool! Don't you know I'm that -poor little, bent-up kid's daddy? Don't you know I looked forward -to callin' her Edith L.? Don't you know--? Doc," I says, strong and -forcible, "money ain't no object in a case like this. Tell me this: -Shall I git a specialist? Would it do any good to send to Denver and -git a specialist, or Chicago, or New York?" Doc looked interested at the -horizon. - -"Why, no," he says, "no! I don't see that it would." - -I'll bet that that was the first time Doc ever said "No" straight out. -It settled me. I let go of his arm and sat right down. If Doc Wolfert -spoke up and said "No" I knew there wasn't nothing to be done. - -I sat there probably about a thousand years, if you count by feelin's. -I had a wish to go in and see the kid, and then, again, I hated to. -I hated for Mrs. Murphy to look at me; I felt I'd blubber, and I was -ashamed; but I knew I'd ought to be there to take Marthy's hand when she -woke up, and to lie to her about it not bein' so bad as she would think. - -That made me pull myself together. I made up my mind that I'd be a man, -anyway. I had Marthy to think of, and a man ain't made to be blubberin' -around when his women need help. I swallowed down the chunk of my neck -that had got stuck in my throat, and swiped my eyes, and stood on my -legs. When I turned, Mrs. Murphy was in the door. - -"Well," she says, "you don't take much interest, I must say. Here you -sit enjoyin' the landscape, and your daughter askin' where her father -has gone to, and is she an orphan or what. Come in," she says, "or -she'll be comin' out." - -I walked in. - -I stopped a bit by the bedroom door to git up my courage, and then I -walked into the room. - -Marthy had her eyes open, and they looked up at me with a smile in them, -and then looked down again at the bunch on her arm under the quilt. - -"Come and see her," she says, feeble but proud. "Come and see your -daughter, Edith L." - -She slid down the covers so I could see her, and I looked at that kid -with a sick grin. - -"Ain't she lovely?" she says. - -"Sure!" I says, lying bravely. - -"Don't talk," says Mrs. Murphy, speakin' to Marthy, "or the session is -ended." - -"Just one word," I says. "Marthy, are you satisfied with her--with the -kid?" - -"She's perfect!" she says, "perfect and lovely." - -"All right," I says, "then I don't mind." - -Marthy smiled, sort of weak. - -"You will joke," she says. - -"Joke!" says Mrs. Murphy, indignant; "insult, I call it. Did you ever -see a finer baby?" - -I looked to see if she winked. She didn't. - -"How so?" I asked, my voice all of a tremble. - -"How so?" she asks; "No 'how so' at all. She weighs ten pounds, and -she's sound in wind and limb," she says, "and look at the grand shape -of her head! She'll be a college professoress at least, or maybe in -Congress before her pa. It's a grand baby she is!" - -"Ten pounds!" I says; "ain't that some dwarfish?" - -"Hear the man!" she says. "I don't believe he knows a fine baby when he -sees one." - -"Do you mean that, Mrs. Murphy?" I asked, every bit of blood in me goin' -on the jump. - -"Mean it?" she says; "I've had six of my own, and not one of them could -hold a candle to this one." - -"Marthy!" I says. "Is it so?" - -"Mrs. Murphy has fine children," she says; "but my little girl, I think, -is finer." - -[Illustration: Mrs. Murphy's Children 86] - -"How's her head?" I asked. "Perfect," she says. - -"And her color?" - -"So healthy," she says. - -"And her legs?" - -"So straight and strong," she says. I took hold of her hand and squeezed -it good, and then I went to the window and looked out, and I saw all the -boys lined up along the fence waitin' for me to come out and let them -know that what I'd told Brink Tuomy was so. - -Proud? I was so proud I felt like givin' Mrs. Murphy a million dollars. - -"Dang it!" I yelped. "Let her dad have another good look at Edith L." - - - - -III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK - - -NOW, you just take a good look this here right fist of mine. - -Looks like a ham, don't it? And see all them callouses on the palm. -Ain't that a tool fit to break rock with? And what'd you say if I told -you I used that once to hit that little, tender kid of mine? Actually -hit her! What you say to that? I won't forgit that night soon, I tell -you! - -Just figger to yourself that it's sundown, and the blinds pulled down in -the room where Deedee's cot was standin' like a little iron-barred -cage. We got into the way of callin' the kid Deedee, that bein' what she -called herself. There was all the signs that Deedee was goin' to sleep, -and the plainest sign was Deedee herself, standin' up in her crib, wide -awake, holdin' on to the foot of the crib, trampin' the sheets into a -tangle of white underbrush, as you might say, and no more asleep -than you are. The way Deedee went to sleep was like the death of an -alligator--it was a long and strenuous affair. - -Marthy stood lookin' at Deedee with reproaches in her eyes. We had a -sort of tradition in the family that Deedee had to go to sleep quick -and quiet, without any nonsense. Every night, when Marthy put the little -white rascal in the crib, she had hopes that the tradition would come -true, and every night it didn't. The go-to-sleep hour was the time -Deedee seemed to pick out to have an hour of especial lively fun, and -for weeks she had been breakin' the laws, and walkin' all over the rules -with her pink feet. She did not see, comin' up over the horizon, and -gittin' nearer every day, the stern and horrid Spank! - -We had got together in a sort of family conclave and decided that Deedee -was about old enough to be punished by layin' on of hands. We decided -it one time when Deedee was out of the room, and we had been right stern -about it. We could be stern about Deedee when she wasn't in sight. When -she come smilin' and singin' along we generally had to quit bein' stern, -and kiss her. - -Deedee was twenty-two months old, and she was ninety-eight per cent, -pure sweetness. Some of the women in our end of town said her short, -curly hair was tow-colored, but it wasn't so--they was just envious of -us. And one and all said her eyes was like round little bits of blue -sky. It was clear enough that she had inherited her sweetness from -Marthy; and some said it was equal clear that the two per cent, of -unadulterated stubbornness come from me. I said so myself, but I didn't -believe it. - -Deedee was gittin' to be a regular person. She could tell what she -wanted, and once in a while we could understand what it was. It was full -time, everybody said, that her education had ought to begin. If she was -goin' to grow up into a fine, sincere woman like Marthy, she must have -the right kind of start. Just the night before the day of the Spank, -Marthy had begun to teach her her religious education. Standin' up -at Marthy's knee--for Deedee would not kneel to God or man--she had -repeated:-- - - "Nowee-laimee-downee-seep, - Padee-O-so-tee." - -Anybody had ought to know that was:-- - - "Now I lay me down to sleep, - I pray the Lord my soul to keep." - -It was a fine success for a first start, only she didn't do what she -said she was goin' to do and "lay me down to sleep." Instead of that she -stood up in her crib for about an hour, callin' for "Mamie," the meanin' -of which was that she wanted to be rocked and have Marthy sing "Mary had -a little lamb," to her. - -The day of the Spank had a bad openin'. When Deedee woke up, along -about five o'clock a.m., it was rainin' pitchforks, and that meant a -day indoors, and to start off, she stood up in her crib and called for -"laim." - -Marthy woke up sort of realizin' that Deedee was repeatin' that word -slow, but regular, and she sat up and thought. "Laim" was a new word, -and the meanin' of it was unknown, but, whatever it was, Deedee wanted -it. She wanted it bad. Nothin' but "laim" would satisfy her. - -Marthy studied that word good and hard. It did not seem to suggest -anything to eat or drink, and, as near as Marthy could make out, it -didn't rightly apply to any toy, game, song, person, or anything else. -Marthy woke me up, and I sat up with a sigh. Deedee looked at me as if -she thought she would git what she wanted now, sure. - -"Laim, Deedee?" I asked, and she smiled as sweet as you please. - -"Papa, laim!" she says again. "Laim!" I says, thoughtful, lookin' around -the room and up at the ceilin'. I screwed up my forehead and studied, -and twisted my neck to look into the next room. "Laim! What's a 'laim,' -anyhow?" - -"I give it up," I says, after I'd thought of everything in the world, -pretty near. "Mebby her grandpa would know. Mebby it's something he -taught her." - -We lifted Deedee out of her crib, and set her down on the floor, and -she pattered down the hall. We could hear her tellin' him to give her -"laim," and the puzzled way he answered her back. - -"Laim, birdy? What is it? Say it again, Deedee. Laim? Grand-daddy don't -know what you want, Deedee." - -Neither did Uncle Ed, who was stayin' with us about then. Nobody knew -what "laim" was but Deedee, and she wanted it the worst way. She come -back, and stood by Marthy's bed, and just begged for it. - -It was a hard day for Marthy. It was Monday, and wash-day, so Deedee -couldn't bother Katie in the kitchen, and it was rainin' too. Deedee -just wandered through the house, like she had lost her last friend, and -then she would come back to Marthy and ask for "laim." She wouldn't have -nothing to do with her toys, and she wouldn't sew with a pin, and -she wouldn't sit at the table and write, and she wouldn't look at the -photygraft book. And the worst of it was that she wouldn't keep still a -minute. - -[Illustration: She wouldn't keep still a minute 100] - -By noon-time Marthy had a headache. By sundown she had "nerves," and -about then she began to look at Deedee with a sort of reproachful look. -Deedee had said that unknown word about ten thousand times. Marthy put -Deedee to bed in her crib, and I read once how Wellington, at Waterloo, -in the big fight they had there, prayed for night or Blcher, and that -was about how Marthy longed for the sandman or me to come. I was the -one that come, at last. I come in the house wet to the skin, and plumb -disgusted; my pants stickin' to my legs and all over mud, and I chucked -my soakin' hat and my umbrelly into a corner, the way a tired-out man -will, and just dropped into a chair, tuckered out. I let out one good, -long sigh of thanks that I was at the end of a hard day. - -"Hiram!" comes Marthy's voice; "Come in here, and see if you can do -anything with Edith. I have worked with her all day, and I'm played out; -I'm utter tired." - -"Oh, plague!" I says. I sat a minute, drummin' on the arm of my chair, -and then I got upon my feet, and walked into the bedroom. - -"What's the matter?" I says, as near cross as I calculate I ever git, -and Marthy's eyes filled up. - -"I _can't_ do anything with her," she says. "She _won't_ go to sleep. -She has been dreadful all day. I don't feel like I could stand it -another minute." Marthy threw herself on the bed and covered up her face -with her hands. She was cryin'. - -I guess I frowned. - -Deedee looked up at me as sweet as a little angel. - -"Papa, laim," she says. - -"No!" says I, "No laim, Deedee. You lie down and go to sleep like a good -girl. Papa'll fix your pillow nice." - -I pounded up her pillow, and turned it over, and pulled the sheets out -straight. Then I took the baby and laid her down gentle. She smiled and -cuddled into the pillow. - -"Oh, what a nice bed!" I says. "Ain't it a nice bed, Deedee?" - -"Nice bed," she allowed. - -"Will I cover your feet?" I says. - -"Feet cov," she _says_, eager. - -So I spread the sheet up over her feet. - -"Shut little eyes," I says in warning, but as gentle as you please, and -she shut up her eyes so tight her eyelids wrinkled. - -"Now, good night, Deedee," I says. - -"'Night, pa--pa!" she coos. - -I stole out of the room as quiet as I knowed how, and dropped cautious -into my chair. I leaned back and smiled sort of grim. "That shows," I -thinks, "that women ain't got the right kind of tact to handle a kid, or -else they 've got catchin' nerves. It shows how easy a man can--" - -"Papa, laim!" - -Deedee's clear little voice just cut what I was thinkin' into two -pieces. I was into that bedroom in about two steps. Deedee was standin' -up in her crib. - -"Papa, laim?" she says, sort of anxious. - -"No!" I says, stern in earnest. "No laim!" - -"Papa, laim!" she demands. - -"No!" I says, in a way that froze her smile right where it was. She -looked up at me doubtful-like, her little pink and white chin puckered -up all ready to cry. - -"Papa, laim, laim!" she pleaded. - -I reached over and forced her right back on to her pillow. - -"Deedee!" I says, in a voice that was new and that she wasn't acquainted -with; "go to sleep! Be quiet! Stop this instant, or I _will_ SPANK you!" - -I guess, mebby, the angels kept on singin' as joyful as ever up in -Heaven. I guess, mebby, somewhere out west further, the sun was shinin' -down gay on noddin', careless flowers. Mebby, even in the next block, -some good baby was bein' snuggled up in its ma's arms; but to Deedee, -lyin' in the corner of her crib, the world had got a million years -older in about a minute. Her world that had been all smiles and pleasant -things had turned into a world of hard words and cruel faces. Her mama -dear had on a mask of unfeelin' coldness. Her papa dear stood up there -towerin' above her, a sort of giant of wrath, flourishin' an awful, -mysterious weapon, the word "spank." - -It looked like everybody had gone back on her. Her friends--which was -me and Marthy, her playmates--which was me and Marthy, her lovers--which -was me and Marthy, the providers of her joy--which was me and Marthy, -had turned into avengers. She was all alone in a world of clubs. Just -one wee kid and everybody against her. - -She lay there a minute palpitatin', with her chin tremblin' piteous. -What was to be did when her parents vanished, and these strange, harsh -people took their places? - -She crep' to the foot of the crib, where I was still standin', and she -got up and took hold of my arm and hugged it. - -"Pa-pa!" she says, loving. - -I pushed her back on the pillow again, gentle but firm. - -"Edith," I says in the hard voice she wasn't acquainted with; "Lie down -and go to sleep. I don't want to have no more of this. Go to sleep!" I -heard the dinner bell tinkle from the dinin'-room, and I helped Marthy -to git up, and we went out, and left Deedee alone in the dark. - -I ate the first part of my dinner without sayin' anything. It wasn't -exactly easy to be lively under them circumstances. Even Uncle Ned -didn't say nothin', and grand-daddy didn't feel called on to start a -conversation. It got so we was so quiet it hurt. Uncle Ed made bold to -speak. - -"When I was a kid," he says, lightly, "I used to git spanked with a -six-inch plank." - -"Edward!" says Marthy. "How can you say such a thing?" - -"It done me good," he says. "You can't begin too young. We 've all got -the devil in us, and the only way to git it out is to pound it out." - -Marthy laid down her fork, and her lips trembled. - -"Cut that out, Ed," I says. "Marthy has the nerves to-night; the subject -ain't popular." - -"I think she's goin' to be good now," says grand-daddy, who always stuck -up for the kid bein' the best that ever lived. "She seems quiet enough. -She must have gone off to sleep." - -"I sure do hope so," says Marthy. "I never had such a day with her." -"Mama, laim!" came the little voice from the bedroom, of a sudden. - -"I met Tuomy to-day," I says, "and he--" - -"Mama, laim! Mama, laim!" called Deedee. - -"He asked to be remembered to you," I says. "He was with May Wilson--" - -From the bedroom come a low, maddenin' wail:-- - -"Mama, laim! Papa, laim!" - -It kept gittin' louder. It got to be a regular cry, punctuated off here -and there with calls for "laim." - -Marthy looked at me, hopeless. I seen the look and looked down at my -plate. - -"I'll spank her when I'm done my dinner," I says. "There's no other -way." - -We didn't say much durin' the rest of that meal. It was a very solemn -feast. We was all thinkin' of Deedee. There wasn't no doubt that the -time had come we had been afraid of. The punishment and the crime was -properly fitted to each other. - -Now, or never, was the time to spank; but we was a ridiculous -tender-hearted family, and, as the dinner went on, the spankin' -of Deedee loomed up bigger than Pike's Peak. It piled up huge and -record-breakin' above the tea-pots and the puddin's, and looked about as -important as the end of the world, or a big war. - -When we got up it was like the condemned goin' to the execution, and we -marched into the front room like a jury, bringin' in the death verdict, -files into the court room. - -Deedee still cried for "laim." - -We four sat down, and looked at the carpet, as gloomy as a funeral. -I opened my mouth, swallowed hard two times, and shut it again. Uncle -Edward tapped on the carpet with his toe, grand-daddy looked at one of -the spots on the same carpet like it was a personal insult to him, and -Marthy smoothed out one of the roses on it with her heel. We wasn't half -so interested in that carpet when we bought it as we looked to be that -very minute. - -"Well?" says Marthy, at last. I kept my eye away from hers. I looked out -of the window. Next I got up and stood by the window and stuck my hands -deep down into my pants pockets. - -"If you 're goin' to--" says Marthy. "If you ain't--" - -Deedee was gittin' too bad to stand. It looked as if the neighbors would -be comin' in to complain, next thing. - -I turned around and walked slow toward the bedroom. The three other -grown-ups sat like stone statures. As I pushed aside the curtains, -Marthy jumped across the room and grabbed me by the arm. - -"Hiram!" she cried eager, "You won't be too severe? You won't git mad -and hurt her?" - -"Marthy," I says, "if you want to spank her, do so. If you want me to -spank her, don't you mix in." I shook her hand off of me, and she went -back to her chair cryin'. - -Well, I went into that bedroom. Deedee left off cryin' when she seen me, -and in the dim light I could see her standin' in the crib. I stuck out -my hand to take her, and she hung on to it. - -"Papa, laim!" she begged. - -"Edith," I says, hoarse in my throat, "you 've been naughty. Papa told -you to go to sleep, and mama told you to go to sleep. When we tell you -to go to sleep, you've got to go to sleep. Now, this is the last time -I'm goin' to tell you. Will you lie down and go to sleep?" - -"Papa, laim!" she says, impatient. - -I set my mouth and lifted her up and laid her on the bed on her face and -held her there. She struggled and yelled. - -"Be quiet!" I says, "be quiet, or I will spank you!" - -She gave one long, lingerin' cry for "laim." - -I took a long breath, and lifted up my hand, and--and--I ain't a-goin' -to tell about that. Let's go into the other room. - -There set the three other grownups, holdin' their hands over their ears, -with pained lookin' faces. Even at that they heard the sound of a dozen -short, sharp claps, and the sound of the quick cries, and then there was -a silent spell, only broke by the great big sobs of the little kid in -the next room,--sobs that sort of exploded their way out, shakin' the -little body till the crib rattled. - -[Illustration: The sobbin' got weaker and weaker 120] - -The sobbin' got weaker and weaker, and come further apart, and I stole -out of the bedroom, wipin' my face with my handkerchief. - -"I think she'll be a good girly now," says grand-daddy, gentle-like. - -That baby, shocked and surprised, laid on the pillow thinkin', as much -as a baby could think. Something cruel and unexpected had happened to -her. - -Me and Marthy had turned cruel. She didn't have no one to love up to. -She had been hurt. Her papa dear had hurt her, because she had cried for -"laim." - -"I hope she will," says Marthy in reply to grand-daddy, and that minute -from the bedroom, come Deedee's voice. - -"Papa!" it pleaded. - -I jumped up from my chair. Evidently that child needed-- - -"Papa, kiss!" says Deedee, soft and pleadin'. - -Well, I rather guess we all kissed her! We hugged her until she was -gaspin' for breath, and she smiled at us, and forgive us all, even while -the sobs come once in a while to interfere with her smilin'. - -"Ain't she a dear, _dear_ baby?" cried Marthy. "Poor little thing!" - -When we had loved her enough to spoil any good the spankin' had done, -Marthy drove us out. - -"Come, deary," she says to Deedee, "say your little prayers, mama -forgot." - -Deedee pressed up against her ma's knee, joyous. - -"Now I--" Marthy prompts her. - -"Nowee--" says Deedee. - -"Lay me--" says Marthy. - -"_Laim_," says Deedee, tickled as you please, and then wonderin' why the -whole lot of us shouts out "Laim!" of a sudden, and why we laugh, and -crowd 'round her, and kiss her, and kiss her! - -"Poor baby!" says Marthy. "To be spanked for wantin' to say her -prayers!" - -"By George!" says Uncle Edward. "Talk about your martyrs! She beats the -whole bunch!" - -And to think there was once a time when me and Marthy thought a kid was -more bother than it was worth! There ain't no child, nowhere, that ain't -worth more than everything else in the world all put together. No, sir! -A baby has got more human nature in it than a man has, even. You take -your big, rough hand to it, and you chastise it, so that it screams out, -and the next minute it takes time in between sobs to hug its soft little -arms around your neck, and kiss you. Ain't that the reallest kind of -human nature? Why, that's the kind that makes the world worth livin' in -at all. - -I don't seem to recollect ever hearin' that Heaven was set aside as a -sort of place where married folks could hang about by twos. Them that -has had experience knows that that would be a mighty poor kind of -heaven--one without children in it. It's the child kind of human nature -that sweetens up the world. The "give and take" kind--take your spankin' -when it comes, and give back love in return for it. - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - -***** This file should be named 44148-8.txt or 44148-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/4/44148/ - -Produced by David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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-<head>
-<title>
-The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler
-</title>
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- <!--
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-Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Confessions of a Daddy
-
-Author: Ellis Parker Butler
-
-Illustrator: Fanny Y. Cory
-
-Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44148]
-Last Updated: March 11, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-<div style="height: 8em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h1>
-THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY
-</h1>
-<h2>
-By Ellis Parker Butler
-</h2>
-<h3>
-With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory
-</h3>
-<h5>
-New York The Century Co. <br /> 1907
-</h5>
-<p>
-<br />
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="frontispiece" width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-<br />
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="titlepage" width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<h4>
-TO <br /> <br /> ELSIE McCOLM BUTLER A VERY GOOD CHILD THIS BOOK IS
-INSCRIBED BY HER FATHER
-</h4>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<p>
-<b>CONTENTS</b>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. WHEN SHE CAME </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK </a>
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<p>
-<b>List of Illustrations</b>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0001"> On the Floor With Her Stockings Not on Yet.
-</a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0002"> She Was Like a Butterfly in Amongs the
-Butterflies. </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0003"> The Two Children Run to the Gate. </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0004"> Edith L. </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0005"> Mrs. Murphy's Children </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0006"> She Wouldn't Keep Still a Minute </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0007"> The Sobbin' Got Weaker and Weaker </a>
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY
-</h2>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES
-</h2>
-<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> guess we folks that live up at our end of town think we are about as
-good as anybody in Colorado, and mebby a little better. We get along
-together as pleasant as you please, and we are a sort of colony, as you
-might say, all by ourselves.
-</p>
-<p>
-Me and Marthy make especial good neighbors. We don't have no fights with
-the other folks in our end of town, and in them days the neighbors hadn't
-any reason to fight with us, for we didn't keep a dog and we hadn't no
-children! I take notice that it is other folks dogs and children that make
-most of the bad feelin's between neighbors. Of course we had mosquitos,
-but Providence gives everybody something to practise up their patience,
-and when me and Marthy sat out on our porch and heard other people's
-children frettin' because the mosquitos was bad, we just sat there behind
-our screened porch and thanked our stars that we did n't have no children
-to leave our screen doors open.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was n't but right that me and Marthy should act accordingly. I don't
-mean that we were uppish about it, but we did feel that we could live a
-little better than our neighbors that had all the expense of children, and
-if our house was fixed up a little better, and we was able to go off three
-or four weeks in the summer to the mountains, when all the rest stayed
-right at home, we had a right to feel pleased about it. Lots of times we
-had things our neighbors could n't afford, and then the little woman would
-say to me: “Hiram, you don't know how thankful I am that we ain't got any
-children,” and I agreed with her every time, and did it hearty, too.
-</p>
-<p>
-'T was n't that we hated children. Far from it. We just thought that when
-we saw all the extra worry and trouble and expense that other people's
-children brought about, we were right satisfied to live the way we had
-lived the five years since we was married—our neighbors still called
-us the “Bride and Groom.” Nor I can't say that we were happier than the
-other folks in our end of town, but we was more care-free. We lived more
-joyous, as you might say.
-</p>
-<p>
-One night when I come home from the store Marthy met me at the corner, and
-when I had tucked her arm under mine, I asked her what was the news. Bobby
-Jones had cut his finger bad; Stell Marks had took the measles; little Tot
-Hemingway had run off, and her ma had gone near crazy until the kid was
-found again; the Wallaces was n't goin' to take no vacation this year at
-all because Fred was to go off to school in the fall, and they could n't
-afford both. It was the usual lot of news of children bein' trouble and
-expense.
-</p>
-<p>
-I was feelin' fine, the next day bein' a holiday, and Marthy, with the
-slick way women has, sprung a favor on me just when she set the broiled
-steak on the table. Extry thick, and burnt brown—that's my favorite
-steak—and whenever I see it that way my mouth waters, and I look out
-for a favor to be asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Hiram,” she says, quite as if she was openin' up a usual bit of talk,
-“did you take notice of Mrs. Hemingway's silk dress last Sunday?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Why no, Marthy,” I says, “I didn't. Was it new?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“New!” she laughed. “The idee! That's just what it wasn't. I believe she
-has had that same silk ever since we have lived in this end of town, and
-no one knows how much longer. It's a shame. She puts every cent she can
-dig up on those children of hers, and has hardly a decent thing of her
-own. I feel right sorry for her.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I feel sorry for Hemingway,” says I. “The old boy is workin' himself to
-death. He never gits home until supper is all over, and he told me just
-now that he felt it his bounden duty to work to-morrow. I tell you,
-Marthy, children is an expensive luxury!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“That's just what they are,” she agreed. “If it wasn't for their children,
-the Hemingways could live every bit as good as we do, and he wouldn't have
-to work of nights, poor fellow. But, Hiram,” she says, as if the idee had
-just hit her, “do you recall to mind when this end of town has seen a new
-silk dress?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Why, no—no,” I said; “when was it?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Years ago!” says the little woman. “I was figgerin' it up to-day, and it
-was full two years ago. Ain't it awful?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Downright scandalous!” I says. “And just on account of those children,
-too!”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy looked down at her plate, innocent as you please.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I'm glad we ain't got any children, Hiram,” she says, full of mischief.
-</p>
-<p>
-That tickled me. I was tickled to see how she was tickled to think she had
-trapped me.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I guess it's our bounden duty to hold up the honor of our end of town by
-showin' it a new silk dress,” I says, and the next thing I knew I was
-fightin' to keep her from chokin' me to death.
-</p>
-<p>
-All that evening Marthy was unusual quiet and right happy, too. As she sat
-on the porch her eyes would wander off over-the-hills-and-far-away, and I
-knew she was lost in joyous tanglements of bias and gores and plaits,
-where a man can't foller if he wants to. But when we went inside and had
-the blinds pulled down she put her arms around my neck again and gave me
-another choke.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Dear, dear old Hiram!” she says, and her eyes was tear-wet. “Just think!
-A new silk dress!” And just then there came into the room the noise of the
-Marks child—the one with the measles—whimpering.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't you glad,” says the little woman, “that we haven't any children to
-spoil all our fun, and bother us?” and when I looked down into that happy
-little face of hers, I was glad, and no mistake.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next day was a beauty. It came in like a glory, and we was up almost
-as soon as the sun was; for we had figgered on one of our regular old-time
-jolly days by ourselves on the hills—one of the kind that made our
-end of town call us the “Bride and Groom.” It was our plan to take a good
-lunch, and just wander. Marthy was to take a book, and I was to take my
-fishin' tackle, and beyond that was whatever happy thing that turned up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“If we had children,” she said, “we couldn't go off on these long tramps
-by ourselves.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We got away while the neighbors in our end of town were still at
-breakfast, and as we passed the Wallace's place we ran up to holler
-good-by through the window at them, and there was the youngest Wallace
-foolin' on the floor with her stockings not on yet, and breakfast half
-over. Marthy stopped long enough to have a good, long look at the child.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/036.jpg"
- alt="On the Floor With Her Stockings Not on Yet. 036 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-“If all the children was like Daisy Wallace,” she says, “they wouldn't be
-so bad. She is the dearest thing I ever did see. She's got the cutest way
-of kissin' a person on the eyelids.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“She looks to be just as lazy in the dressin' act as the rest,” I
-remarked, and I was surprised, the way Marthy turned on me.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Why, Hiram Smith!” she cried; “didn't <i>you</i> ever dawdle over your
-dressin'? When I was a girl I got lots of fun out of being late to
-breakfast. What difference does it make, anyway, when she is perfectly
-lovely all the rest of the time? I simply love that child. I wonder,” she
-said, sort of wistful, “if they would let us take her with us to-day. She
-would enjoy it so.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Foolishness,” I said. “We don't want to pull a kid along with us all day;
-and anyhow, they are going to take her to the photographer's to-day to
-have her picture took.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We went out around town, and up the hill road. The morning air was great,
-and nobody on the road at all, so far as we could see, and we stepped out
-brisk and lively.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Seems good to git away from the baby district, don't it?” I says, as we
-was walkin' up the road. “We 're like Mister and Missus Robinson Crusoe,”
- and at the very next turn we most fell over Bobby Jones and his
-everlastin' chum, Rex, which is the most no-account dog on earth.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Where y' goin'?” he asks.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nowheres particular,” says Marthy. “Just walkin' out to git the air.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“So'm I,” says he, and then he says, sort of bluffin', “I ain't lost.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Yes you are, Bobby,” I says, severe as I could, “and if you know what's
-good for a kid about your size you'd better turn right 'round and scoot
-for home.”
- </p>
-<p>
-He looked at me as if he would like to know who I was, to be bossin' him.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ho!” he says, “You ain't my pa. I don't have to do what you say! I won't
-go home for you!”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy was bendin' over him in a second.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Bobby,” she says, coaxing-like, “do you know what your folks is going to
-have for dinner?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“No'm,” he says, as polite as you please.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I do,” says the little woman. “Ice cream. And if you git lost you won't
-git home in time to git any.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Bobby looked up the road where he hadn't explored yet, and then looked
-back the way he'd come, and then he smiled at Marthy and took off his cap
-to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Thank you, Missus Smith,” he says.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy laughed as happy as a girl, and kissed him right on his dusty face.
-She put her arms around him, even, and acted like she had never seen a
-freckled boy before.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nice boy,” I remarked, when Bobby had gone down the road toward town.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nice!” says the little woman. “Nice! Is that all you can scrape up to
-say? Why, there ain't a dearer child in our end of town than what Bobby
-is. He's my sweetheart when you ain't at home. Hiram,” she says, looking
-back at him as he paddled along kicking up the dust with his bare toes, “I
-wonder if we dare take him with us?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“What about his ice-cream?” I says. “What about having a kid dragging
-after us all day?” So we went on, but I seen she felt a little mite
-lonely-like, as you might say. Which was queer.
-</p>
-<p>
-By ten o'clock we had got far enough from town, and we pushed through a
-field that was all covered with flowers, and over to where the brook was,
-with the tangle of trees and brush hiding it, and when I pushed apart the
-brush to go through, I stopped and motioned for Marthy to come quiet and
-look.
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="frontispiece" width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-There, sittin' on a tree trunk, as quiet as you please, was Teddy
-Lawrence, with his eyes glued on to his bobber, and thinkin' of nothing in
-the world but fish. I'm a right hearty fisher myself, and it done my heart
-good to see the strictly-business way that kid had. Marthy moved a little,
-and I put my hand on her to make her keep still.
-</p>
-<p>
-The boy lifted up his pole and looked at the bait like a regular old hand.
-He dug a fresh, fat worm out of his can, and fixed it, and then I fairly
-held my breath. Would he do it? No! But, hold on—yes! He leaned over
-and spit on the bait to bring luck, just as natural as life! Say, wasn't
-that real boy for you? I let the brush come together real quiet, and me
-and Marthy slipped away.
-</p>
-<p>
-Well, sir, my five-dollar pole and my two-dollar reel, made me feel sick.
-</p>
-<p>
-What did I know about fishing, anyhow? I felt right there what was the
-truth, that all my fishing amounted to was, that I was tryin' to bring
-back the joys I used to have when I was a kid, settin' on a log, happy and
-lonesome, watchin' my bottle-cork joggle on the ripples. What was the use?
-A feller can't go back to them days. There ain't nothing to do about it.
-Unless, of course, he can sort of go forward to them in—well, a
-feller could sort of live them days over agin in a boy of his own.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Wallace don't deserve that boy,” I says, sort of mad about I don't know
-what. “What sort of a dad is that old book-worm of a Wallace for a boy
-that likes to fish like Ted does? I'll bet Wallace never had a fish pole
-in his hands since the day he was born. Now, if I had a boy like that I
-could show him a thing or two about fishing. If I had a boy like that—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Look there!” says Marthy, sudden. “Did you ever see anything sweeter than
-what that is?”
- </p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/046.jpg"
- alt="She Was Like a Butterfly in Amongs the Butterflies. 46 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-Over on the other end of the field Ted's sister was strayin' around in the
-flowers, her face all rosy with the fresh air. She was like a butterfly in
-amongst the butterflies, a mighty pretty girl, and just the age when a
-mother loves a girl best and when a mother takes the most care of 'em. I
-like pretty things as well as the next man does, and I'll say right here
-that there was something about that girl that made me feel like I'd like
-to own her—just like I feel about a real pretty rose, sort of covet
-to keep it just as it is forever, and take care that it don't git spoiled
-any way.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I guess Mrs. Wallace don't rightly appreciate May,” says Marthy,
-thoughtful-like. “I thinks she makes her study too much. When I was May's
-age I had plenty of chances to git the fresh air, and you'd never see me
-takin' up music-lessons in the summer. I spent my time feedin' the
-chickens and runnin' about the farm, and enjoyin' life. It ain't right,
-the way girls is forced in their studies nowadays. If I had a girl like
-that—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“If you had, what'd you do?” I asks, kindly enough, but the little woman
-only laughed. Mebby her laugh was a bit reckless, as you might say.
-</p>
-<p>
-“What's the use thinkin' what I'd do?” she says, turnin' round to go.
-There didn't seem to be nothing special for me to say right then, so I
-just put my arm around her, and we went on.
-</p>
-<p>
-We was plumb tired out when we got home, and mebby that is why we was more
-than usual quiet at dinner. I sure wasn't cross, but somehow our day
-hadn't panned out as satisfactory as we'd thought it would, and mebby the
-cryin' of the Wilkins' new baby got on my nerves, we being tired. I was
-glad when dinner was over and we could take our chairs and go out on the
-porch.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a fine night—still, and ca'm as you please. The only noise,
-not countin' the cryin' of the Wilkins' kid, was the sounds of the
-laughin' and chatter of the children in our end of town. But I was
-lonesome. I can't speak for the little woman, how she felt, but <i>I</i>
-felt lonesome—and her right there beside me, too.
-</p>
-<p>
-Across the street we could see the two Hemingway children, who had coaxed
-an extra half hour to wait for their father to come home before they went
-to bed. They had their heads bent over a tumbler that they had caught two
-fireflies in, and on the porch Mrs. Hemingway was rockin' the sleepy baby.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/054.jpg" alt="The Two Children Run to the Gate. 54 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-Then we heard Hemingway's whistle—he can't whistle, but he likes to—and
-the two children dropped the tumbler, and run to the gate, and then there
-was a rush, and a mingling up of Hemingway kids and father, and the sleepy
-baby slid down from its ma's lap and stood, unsteady but tryin' to git in
-the kissing, with its arms held out. Happy?
-</p>
-<p>
-I turned to the little woman, and I looked straight at her. Somehow I knew
-that now, if ever, was a time for me to do some cheering-up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well, little woman,” I says, cheerful-like, “<i>we</i> don't need a lot
-of kids to bolster up our love, do we?”
- </p>
-<p>
-She gave my hand a soft squeeze in reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-“And about that gown—that silk gown,” I says, gaily. “Have you
-decided what color it is to be yet?
-</p>
-<p>
-“Won't you be fine! When I think how fine you'll look, I'm glad we haven't
-no children to—”
- </p>
-<p>
-Just then them Hemingways went inside, and our whole end of town was
-quiet, and lonesome.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy didn't answer, and when I lifted up her face to kiss her, what
-d'you think? She was cryin'!
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-II. WHEN SHE CAME
-</h2>
-<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>fore the kid come, me and Marthy used to sit up nights tellin' each other
-how much we'd like it if she turned out to be a boy. I said everything
-that I knowed that was nice about boys, and drawed on my imagination for
-what I didn't know, and Marthy spoke the same; so I convinced Marthy,
-thorough, that I would be terrible disappointed if it wasn't a boy, and
-she didn't leave me no doubts about her hankerin' for a baby of the male
-sect.
-</p>
-<p>
-Course we was both tryin' to square ourselves in case it <i>should</i> be
-a boy. Come to find out, we was both of us tickled to death that it was a
-girl.
-</p>
-<p>
-We'd talked over boys' names by the bushel without ever coming to a
-dead-set choice, but we most always squeezed in somewhere, sort of
-apologetic, a remark that if it <i>should</i> happen to be a girl we'd
-have to call it Edith L., after its grandmother. Somehow, as I look back
-on it, it seems as if I'd never thought of that kid, at any time, except
-as Edith L. Curious how folks will try to fool theirselves that way.
-</p>
-<p>
-When it come to the auspicious occasion we had Doc Wolfert in, because he
-was the only doc in our end of town. He certainly was a quaint old
-bone-setter. Some said he took morphine on the sly, and some said it was
-just his natural manner, but he was the shiftiest-eyed medic you ever saw.
-No man livin' ever got him to say plain yes or no. He'd walk all 'round
-them little words, like he was afraid of steppin' on them, and his gab was
-full of perhapses and possiblys, and similar slick side-trackers of
-knowledge.
-</p>
-<p>
-I had figgered that when the aforesaid auspicious occasion turned up I'd
-clean out to the woods until things got so I'd be useful as well as
-ornamental; but when it come to a show-down, I couldn't. Farthest away I
-could git was the front porch. I done my good twenty miles on the porch
-that day, I'll bet, and whenever I've had a trial and tribulation time
-since then, I can hear the sixth board from the south end of that porch
-squeak.
-</p>
-<p>
-I was walkin' on the level, but my spirits was climbin' hills and coastin'
-into valleys. First minute I would be stickin' out my chest and thinkin'
-how all-fired grand it would be to be a daddy, and the next minute I'd
-cave in like a frost-bitten squash and wonder how in creation I'd ever
-drag along as a widow-man. One minute I'd see myself sky-hootin' round
-with a fine kid on my arm, and the next I'd see myself alone, with Marthy
-gone. I've got the reputation around here of being a humorist man, but I
-didn't say no funny sayings to myself that day, that I can remember. I had
-fever, and cold sweats, and double contraction of the heart, and whenever
-I thought of Marthy, I couldn't think of a decent thing that I'd ever done
-to her. I felt I was an ornery, lowdown critter—which I ain't—and
-I saw Marthy as a spotless angel—which she ain't neither. She's
-woman and earthly all through, and mighty good earth at that. Marthy never
-knew what a good chance she lost of being considered a perfectionated
-saint, but she missed the chance.
-</p>
-<p>
-Just about when I'd given up all hopes of ever seein' Marthy alive again,
-Mrs. Murphy, (who we'd got in to sort of give the kid its first toilet, it
-not being expected to be far enough advanced to do much primping on its
-own account right at first) come to the door like a blessed ray of
-sunshine, and percolated out a smile at me.
-</p>
-<p>
-Loony as I was, I had sense enough left to know that she wasn't smilin' at
-me for flirtation, nor because she had a smile that she didn't know what
-to do with and so was passing it out to me, like a hand-out, just to git
-rid of it. I connected that smile with other things. I knowed she was
-smiling me back from a desolate widow-hood, or widow-man-hood, or whatever
-the right word is. I know the right word, but it's got mislaid. Thank the
-stars I ain't ever had no use for it, and I hope never to have. But I
-guess every man feels like I did when I was walkin' that porch. When they
-shut the door on him, and turn him out, and tell him they will call him
-when they want him, he's a widow-man right from that moment and feels so.
-And when they call him in and say all's doin' as well as could be expected
-under the circumstances, right then he feels like his wife had rose from
-the dead, and he becomes a married man again. I felt so, anyhow, and I
-don't know as I'm a specially fancy feeler. I don't look it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Right then I was boosted, like I tell you, from a deep black hole to a
-high and airy location, and by a plain-faced, baggy Irish lady that did
-washing by the day at fifty cents a day, and you furnished the soap. She's
-been my friend ever since, and always will be.
-</p>
-<p>
-As I passed in, feelin' more like war-whoopin' than like walkin' soft, she
-whispered three words at me that finished me up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“It's a girl,” says she. “Walk light, and stay where you are, and when you
-can come in and see the girl, I'll bring her out and show her to you.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I was clean idiotic with satisfaction. I sat down on the edge of a chair
-and twirled my hat until I couldn't sit still, and then got up and edged
-round the room lookin' at the pictures on the wall, for all the world like
-I was a visitor. I'd got half-way through lookin' at the things on the
-what-not, and was castin' my eye round for the photygraft album, when Mrs.
-Murphy stuck her blessed face into the parlor.
-</p>
-<p>
-“'Sh-h!” says she, “make no noise, and control your feelin's, and you can
-come in for a quarter of a second and see your daughter.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I was so proud I had cold chills, and I walked like a clothes-horse on
-castors.
-</p>
-<p>
-I looked for Marthy first, and I see she was a-sleepin' beautiful, and
-then Mrs. Murphy pulled down the covers and showed me Edith L.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/066.jpg" alt="Edith L. 66 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-I took her all in at a glance, and I formed my own opinion right there. I
-was like a rubber balloon when you stick a pin in it, but I didn't
-collapse with a bang, I just caved in gradual. I went out of the room, and
-out of the house, and sat down on the porch-step and blubbered. They never
-missed me.
-</p>
-<p>
-When I think back on that day it makes me laugh, but I was sure a rank
-amateur in the baby business, and I didn't know no better then. Right now
-I'd put up every cent I've got that you couldn't find a finer girl in the
-state than what Edith L. is, and I've learned since that she was what you
-might call an A-1 baby right from the start, but it didn't look that way
-to me. She was the first of that age I'd ever been introduced to, and she
-looked different than what I'd fig-gered on. I'd seen plenty of brand new
-colts, and they run largely to legs, but you'd know them for
-horse-critters right off; and I 've seen brand-new puppies, and their eyes
-ain't open, but you'd know them immediate for dogs; but that kid didn't
-look any more like what I'd calculated Edith L. would look like, than a
-cucumber looks like a water-melon. My heart was plumb broke. I was scairt
-when I thought what would happen to Marthy when she saw that wrinkled, red
-little thing.
-</p>
-<p>
-I knew we'd have to keep it, but I didn't see how we could bear the shame.
-I made up my mind in a minute that we'd sell off the place and move up
-into the mountains—just me and Marthy and the girl. I didn't think
-of her as Edith L. any more. It wouldn't do to insult mother by givin' her
-name to that baby.
-</p>
-<p>
-I figgered it all out how I'd act better to Marthy than ever, to make up
-for the trial that girl would be, and how I'd do all in man's power to
-keep the girl from knowin' how handicapped she was by her looks.
-</p>
-<p>
-Just then Brink Tuomy passed by, and he says:
-</p>
-<p>
-“How's things comin' along?”
- </p>
-<p>
-The boys had all been mighty interested in this baby business, and I knew
-he'd trot off and tell them, so I says, sad enough:
-</p>
-<p>
-“It's a girl.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Brink seen I wasn't very jubilant, so he says:
-</p>
-<p>
-“You don't seem very stuck up about it. But girls ain't so bad—when
-you git used to them. Lady all right?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Yes,” I says, “she's O. K.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Brink hung round a minute or two, waitin' for further orders, and none
-comin', he says, hesitatin':
-</p>
-<p>
-“So long!”
- </p>
-<p>
-I let him go and was glad he went.
-</p>
-<p>
-I looked out across the river, and calculated how I could fix it so Mrs.
-Murphy wouldn't say nothin' outside about that poor kid of mine, and how
-to keep the kid hid until me and Marthy could take her and skin out for
-the mountains.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Murphy was a terrible chatty lady—sort of perpetual phonygraft,
-and wholesale and retail news agency. I guessed the best I could do was to
-lock her in the cellar and then herd all comers away from the house.
-</p>
-<p>
-Doc Wolfert didn't bother me any. I knowed <i>he</i> wouldn't give me
-away.
-</p>
-<p>
-If anybody could so much as git him to admit that there was a baby born at
-my house they would be lucky. Just as a sample of what Doc was like, take
-the case of Sandy Sam, who fell down the mine shaft and was brought up in
-the bucket, as dead as Adam. Doc was on the ground as soon as they brought
-Sandy up, and one of the boys that come late asked Doc what caused the
-crowd to congregate.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well,” says Doc, lookin' off at an angle into the air, “it looks like
-Sandy Sam, or some other feller, fell down the mine shaft.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Poor old Sam,” says the feller, “killed him, didn't it?”
- </p>
-<p>
-Doc looked at the sky and considered.
-</p>
-<p>
-“It's a remarkable deep shaft,” he says at last; “remarkable deep.”
- “Thunder!” says the feller. “I know it's a deep shaft. What I asked you is
-if Sam's dead. Is he?”
- </p>
-<p>
-Doc went off into a dream, and when he come to, he looks at the feller.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Oh!” he says, absent like. “Is Sam dead? Perhaps! Perhaps he is. I
-shouldn't like to say. But,” he ended up, sort of pullin' hisself together
-at the finish, “I wouldn't like to express an opinion, but I guess the
-boys think he is. They are goin' to bury him.”
- </p>
-<p>
-So I wasn't afraid of Doc Wolfert blabbin'. I knowed the worst, and, like
-everybody else, I wanted somebody to tell me it wasn't so bad as I
-thought.
-</p>
-<p>
-I nailed Doc as he come out. I backed him up against a porch pillar and
-conversed with him right there. I wanted to know just how bad it was. I
-wanted to know what hope there was, if any.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Doc,” I said—and I was blessed glad I had a beard so he couldn't
-see the quivers in my chin—“she's terrible undersized, ain't she?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Hum!” says Doc. “You might call her small or you mightn't. I've seen 'em
-bigger, and I 've seen 'em smaller. I've seen 'em all sizes.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I couldn't see much help in that. “Doc,” I said, tremblin', “she won't
-always be so—so dwarfed like, will she? She'll grow—some?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Probably,” says Doc. “I'd hate to say she wouldn't.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I groaned. I had to.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't her head a little off shape, Doc?” I stammered out. I guess the
-shape of the head had worried me most of all. It wasn't just what I'd
-known good heads to be.
-</p>
-<p>
-“You think so?” asked Doc, absent like.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Don't you?” I went back at him.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Tell me straight. I can stand the worst.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Hum!” he says. “Heads differ. I've got to go—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“No you don't!” I says, backing him up against the post; “not till you
-tell me. Her legs, now. Think they will ever straighten out? Think she'll
-ever git over that red, scalded look? Think she'll ever be able to talk,
-Doc?”
- </p>
-<p>
-Doc looked anxious toward the road.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Don't worry,” he says. “Don't fret. Keep cool and ca'm.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Yes,” I says, scornful like. “Me keep cool! Don't you know I'm that poor
-little, bent-up kid's daddy? Don't you know I looked forward to callin'
-her Edith L.? Don't you know—? Doc,” I says, strong and forcible,
-“money ain't no object in a case like this. Tell me this: Shall I git a
-specialist? Would it do any good to send to Denver and git a specialist,
-or Chicago, or New York?” Doc looked interested at the horizon.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Why, no,” he says, “no! I don't see that it would.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I'll bet that that was the first time Doc ever said “No” straight out. It
-settled me. I let go of his arm and sat right down. If Doc Wolfert spoke
-up and said “No” I knew there wasn't nothing to be done.
-</p>
-<p>
-I sat there probably about a thousand years, if you count by feelin's. I
-had a wish to go in and see the kid, and then, again, I hated to. I hated
-for Mrs. Murphy to look at me; I felt I'd blubber, and I was ashamed; but
-I knew I'd ought to be there to take Marthy's hand when she woke up, and
-to lie to her about it not bein' so bad as she would think.
-</p>
-<p>
-That made me pull myself together. I made up my mind that I'd be a man,
-anyway. I had Marthy to think of, and a man ain't made to be blubberin'
-around when his women need help. I swallowed down the chunk of my neck
-that had got stuck in my throat, and swiped my eyes, and stood on my legs.
-When I turned, Mrs. Murphy was in the door.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well,” she says, “you don't take much interest, I must say. Here you sit
-enjoyin' the landscape, and your daughter askin' where her father has gone
-to, and is she an orphan or what. Come in,” she says, “or she'll be comin'
-out.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I walked in.
-</p>
-<p>
-I stopped a bit by the bedroom door to git up my courage, and then I
-walked into the room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy had her eyes open, and they looked up at me with a smile in them,
-and then looked down again at the bunch on her arm under the quilt.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Come and see her,” she says, feeble but proud. “Come and see your
-daughter, Edith L.”
- </p>
-<p>
-She slid down the covers so I could see her, and I looked at that kid with
-a sick grin.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't she lovely?” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Sure!” I says, lying bravely.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Don't talk,” says Mrs. Murphy, speakin' to Marthy, “or the session is
-ended.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Just one word,” I says. “Marthy, are you satisfied with her—with
-the kid?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“She's perfect!” she says, “perfect and lovely.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“All right,” I says, “then I don't mind.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy smiled, sort of weak.
-</p>
-<p>
-“You will joke,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Joke!” says Mrs. Murphy, indignant; “insult, I call it. Did you ever see
-a finer baby?”
- </p>
-<p>
-I looked to see if she winked. She didn't.
-</p>
-<p>
-“How so?” I asked, my voice all of a tremble.
-</p>
-<p>
-“How so?” she asks; “No 'how so' at all. She weighs ten pounds, and she's
-sound in wind and limb,” she says, “and look at the grand shape of her
-head! She'll be a college professoress at least, or maybe in Congress
-before her pa. It's a grand baby she is!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Ten pounds!” I says; “ain't that some dwarfish?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Hear the man!” she says. “I don't believe he knows a fine baby when he
-sees one.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Do you mean that, Mrs. Murphy?” I asked, every bit of blood in me goin'
-on the jump.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Mean it?” she says; “I've had six of my own, and not one of them could
-hold a candle to this one.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Marthy!” I says. “Is it so?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Mrs. Murphy has fine children,” she says; “but my little girl, I think,
-is finer.”
- </p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/086.jpg" alt="Mrs. Murphy's Children 86 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-“How's her head?” I asked. “Perfect,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“And her color?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“So healthy,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“And her legs?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“So straight and strong,” she says. I took hold of her hand and squeezed
-it good, and then I went to the window and looked out, and I saw all the
-boys lined up along the fence waitin' for me to come out and let them know
-that what I'd told Brink Tuomy was so.
-</p>
-<p>
-Proud? I was so proud I felt like givin' Mrs. Murphy a million dollars.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Dang it!” I yelped. “Let her dad have another good look at Edith L.”
- </p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK
-</h2>
-<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>OW, you just take a good look this here right fist of mine.
-</p>
-<p>
-Looks like a ham, don't it? And see all them callouses on the palm. Ain't
-that a tool fit to break rock with? And what'd you say if I told you I
-used that once to hit that little, tender kid of mine? Actually hit her!
-What you say to that? I won't forgit that night soon, I tell you!
-</p>
-<p>
-Just figger to yourself that it's sundown, and the blinds pulled down in
-the room where Deedee's cot was standin' like a little iron-barred cage.
-We got into the way of callin' the kid Deedee, that bein' what she called
-herself. There was all the signs that Deedee was goin' to sleep, and the
-plainest sign was Deedee herself, standin' up in her crib, wide awake,
-holdin' on to the foot of the crib, trampin' the sheets into a tangle of
-white underbrush, as you might say, and no more asleep than you are. The
-way Deedee went to sleep was like the death of an alligator—it was a
-long and strenuous affair.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy stood lookin' at Deedee with reproaches in her eyes. We had a sort
-of tradition in the family that Deedee had to go to sleep quick and quiet,
-without any nonsense. Every night, when Marthy put the little white rascal
-in the crib, she had hopes that the tradition would come true, and every
-night it didn't. The go-to-sleep hour was the time Deedee seemed to pick
-out to have an hour of especial lively fun, and for weeks she had been
-breakin' the laws, and walkin' all over the rules with her pink feet. She
-did not see, comin' up over the horizon, and gittin' nearer every day, the
-stern and horrid Spank!
-</p>
-<p>
-We had got together in a sort of family conclave and decided that Deedee
-was about old enough to be punished by layin' on of hands. We decided it
-one time when Deedee was out of the room, and we had been right stern
-about it. We could be stern about Deedee when she wasn't in sight. When
-she come smilin' and singin' along we generally had to quit bein' stern,
-and kiss her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee was twenty-two months old, and she was ninety-eight per cent, pure
-sweetness. Some of the women in our end of town said her short, curly hair
-was tow-colored, but it wasn't so—they was just envious of us. And
-one and all said her eyes was like round little bits of blue sky. It was
-clear enough that she had inherited her sweetness from Marthy; and some
-said it was equal clear that the two per cent, of unadulterated
-stubbornness come from me. I said so myself, but I didn't believe it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee was gittin' to be a regular person. She could tell what she wanted,
-and once in a while we could understand what it was. It was full time,
-everybody said, that her education had ought to begin. If she was goin' to
-grow up into a fine, sincere woman like Marthy, she must have the right
-kind of start. Just the night before the day of the Spank, Marthy had
-begun to teach her her religious education. Standin' up at Marthy's knee—for
-Deedee would not kneel to God or man—she had repeated:—
-</p>
-<pre xml:space="preserve">
-“Nowee-laimee-downee-seep,
-Padee-O-so-tee.”
- </pre>
-<p>
-Anybody had ought to know that was:—
-</p>
-<pre xml:space="preserve">
-“Now I lay me down to sleep,
-I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”
- </pre>
-<p>
-It was a fine success for a first start, only she didn't do what she said
-she was goin' to do and “lay me down to sleep.” Instead of that she stood
-up in her crib for about an hour, callin' for “Mamie,” the meanin' of
-which was that she wanted to be rocked and have Marthy sing “Mary had a
-little lamb,” to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-The day of the Spank had a bad openin'. When Deedee woke up, along about
-five o'clock a.m., it was rainin' pitchforks, and that meant a day
-indoors, and to start off, she stood up in her crib and called for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy woke up sort of realizin' that Deedee was repeatin' that word slow,
-but regular, and she sat up and thought. “Laim” was a new word, and the
-meanin' of it was unknown, but, whatever it was, Deedee wanted it. She
-wanted it bad. Nothin' but “laim” would satisfy her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy studied that word good and hard. It did not seem to suggest
-anything to eat or drink, and, as near as Marthy could make out, it didn't
-rightly apply to any toy, game, song, person, or anything else. Marthy
-woke me up, and I sat up with a sigh. Deedee looked at me as if she
-thought she would git what she wanted now, sure.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Laim, Deedee?” I asked, and she smiled as sweet as you please.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she says again. “Laim!” I says, thoughtful, lookin' around
-the room and up at the ceilin'. I screwed up my forehead and studied, and
-twisted my neck to look into the next room. “Laim! What's a 'laim,'
-anyhow?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I give it up,” I says, after I'd thought of everything in the world,
-pretty near. “Mebby her grandpa would know. Mebby it's something he taught
-her.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We lifted Deedee out of her crib, and set her down on the floor, and she
-pattered down the hall. We could hear her tellin' him to give her “laim,”
- and the puzzled way he answered her back.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Laim, birdy? What is it? Say it again, Deedee. Laim? Grand-daddy don't
-know what you want, Deedee.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Neither did Uncle Ed, who was stayin' with us about then. Nobody knew what
-“laim” was but Deedee, and she wanted it the worst way. She come back, and
-stood by Marthy's bed, and just begged for it.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a hard day for Marthy. It was Monday, and wash-day, so Deedee
-couldn't bother Katie in the kitchen, and it was rainin' too. Deedee just
-wandered through the house, like she had lost her last friend, and then
-she would come back to Marthy and ask for “laim.” She wouldn't have
-nothing to do with her toys, and she wouldn't sew with a pin, and she
-wouldn't sit at the table and write, and she wouldn't look at the
-photygraft book. And the worst of it was that she wouldn't keep still a
-minute.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/100.jpg" alt="She Wouldn't Keep Still a Minute 100 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-By noon-time Marthy had a headache. By sundown she had “nerves,” and about
-then she began to look at Deedee with a sort of reproachful look. Deedee
-had said that unknown word about ten thousand times. Marthy put Deedee to
-bed in her crib, and I read once how Wellington, at Waterloo, in the big
-fight they had there, prayed for night or Blücher, and that was about how
-Marthy longed for the sandman or me to come. I was the one that come, at
-last. I come in the house wet to the skin, and plumb disgusted; my pants
-stickin' to my legs and all over mud, and I chucked my soakin' hat and my
-umbrelly into a corner, the way a tired-out man will, and just dropped
-into a chair, tuckered out. I let out one good, long sigh of thanks that I
-was at the end of a hard day.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Hiram!” comes Marthy's voice; “Come in here, and see if you can do
-anything with Edith. I have worked with her all day, and I'm played out;
-I'm utter tired.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Oh, plague!” I says. I sat a minute, drummin' on the arm of my chair, and
-then I got upon my feet, and walked into the bedroom.
-</p>
-<p>
-“What's the matter?” I says, as near cross as I calculate I ever git, and
-Marthy's eyes filled up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I <i>can't</i> do anything with her,” she says. “She <i>won't</i> go to
-sleep. She has been dreadful all day. I don't feel like I could stand it
-another minute.” Marthy threw herself on the bed and covered up her face
-with her hands. She was cryin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-I guess I frowned.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee looked up at me as sweet as a little angel.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“No!” says I, “No laim, Deedee. You lie down and go to sleep like a good
-girl. Papa'll fix your pillow nice.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I pounded up her pillow, and turned it over, and pulled the sheets out
-straight. Then I took the baby and laid her down gentle. She smiled and
-cuddled into the pillow.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Oh, what a nice bed!” I says. “Ain't it a nice bed, Deedee?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Nice bed,” she allowed.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Will I cover your feet?” I says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Feet cov,” she <i>says</i>, eager.
-</p>
-<p>
-So I spread the sheet up over her feet.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Shut little eyes,” I says in warning, but as gentle as you please, and
-she shut up her eyes so tight her eyelids wrinkled.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Now, good night, Deedee,” I says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“'Night, pa—pa!” she coos.
-</p>
-<p>
-I stole out of the room as quiet as I knowed how, and dropped cautious
-into my chair. I leaned back and smiled sort of grim. “That shows,” I
-thinks, “that women ain't got the right kind of tact to handle a kid, or
-else they 've got catchin' nerves. It shows how easy a man can—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!”
- </p>
-<p>
-Deedee's clear little voice just cut what I was thinkin' into two pieces.
-I was into that bedroom in about two steps. Deedee was standin' up in her
-crib.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim?” she says, sort of anxious.
-</p>
-<p>
-“No!” I says, stern in earnest. “No laim!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she demands.
-</p>
-<p>
-“No!” I says, in a way that froze her smile right where it was. She looked
-up at me doubtful-like, her little pink and white chin puckered up all
-ready to cry.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim, laim!” she pleaded.
-</p>
-<p>
-I reached over and forced her right back on to her pillow.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Deedee!” I says, in a voice that was new and that she wasn't acquainted
-with; “go to sleep! Be quiet! Stop this instant, or I <i>will</i> SPANK
-you!”
- </p>
-<p>
-I guess, mebby, the angels kept on singin' as joyful as ever up in Heaven.
-I guess, mebby, somewhere out west further, the sun was shinin' down gay
-on noddin', careless flowers. Mebby, even in the next block, some good
-baby was bein' snuggled up in its ma's arms; but to Deedee, lyin' in the
-corner of her crib, the world had got a million years older in about a
-minute. Her world that had been all smiles and pleasant things had turned
-into a world of hard words and cruel faces. Her mama dear had on a mask of
-unfeelin' coldness. Her papa dear stood up there towerin' above her, a
-sort of giant of wrath, flourishin' an awful, mysterious weapon, the word
-“spank.”
- </p>
-<p>
-It looked like everybody had gone back on her. Her friends—which was
-me and Marthy, her playmates—which was me and Marthy, her lovers—which
-was me and Marthy, the providers of her joy—which was me and Marthy,
-had turned into avengers. She was all alone in a world of clubs. Just one
-wee kid and everybody against her.
-</p>
-<p>
-She lay there a minute palpitatin', with her chin tremblin' piteous. What
-was to be did when her parents vanished, and these strange, harsh people
-took their places?
-</p>
-<p>
-She crep' to the foot of the crib, where I was still standin', and she got
-up and took hold of my arm and hugged it.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Pa-pa!” she says, loving.
-</p>
-<p>
-I pushed her back on the pillow again, gentle but firm.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Edith,” I says in the hard voice she wasn't acquainted with; “Lie down
-and go to sleep. I don't want to have no more of this. Go to sleep!” I
-heard the dinner bell tinkle from the dinin'-room, and I helped Marthy to
-git up, and we went out, and left Deedee alone in the dark.
-</p>
-<p>
-I ate the first part of my dinner without sayin' anything. It wasn't
-exactly easy to be lively under them circumstances. Even Uncle Ned didn't
-say nothin', and grand-daddy didn't feel called on to start a
-conversation. It got so we was so quiet it hurt. Uncle Ed made bold to
-speak.
-</p>
-<p>
-“When I was a kid,” he says, lightly, “I used to git spanked with a
-six-inch plank.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Edward!” says Marthy. “How can you say such a thing?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“It done me good,” he says. “You can't begin too young. We 've all got the
-devil in us, and the only way to git it out is to pound it out.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy laid down her fork, and her lips trembled.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Cut that out, Ed,” I says. “Marthy has the nerves to-night; the subject
-ain't popular.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I think she's goin' to be good now,” says grand-daddy, who always stuck
-up for the kid bein' the best that ever lived. “She seems quiet enough.
-She must have gone off to sleep.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I sure do hope so,” says Marthy. “I never had such a day with her.”
- “Mama, laim!” came the little voice from the bedroom, of a sudden.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I met Tuomy to-day,” I says, “and he—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Mama, laim! Mama, laim!” called Deedee.
-</p>
-<p>
-“He asked to be remembered to you,” I says. “He was with May Wilson—”
- </p>
-<p>
-From the bedroom come a low, maddenin' wail:—
-</p>
-<p>
-“Mama, laim! Papa, laim!”
- </p>
-<p>
-It kept gittin' louder. It got to be a regular cry, punctuated off here
-and there with calls for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy looked at me, hopeless. I seen the look and looked down at my
-plate.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I'll spank her when I'm done my dinner,” I says. “There's no other way.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We didn't say much durin' the rest of that meal. It was a very solemn
-feast. We was all thinkin' of Deedee. There wasn't no doubt that the time
-had come we had been afraid of. The punishment and the crime was properly
-fitted to each other.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, or never, was the time to spank; but we was a ridiculous
-tender-hearted family, and, as the dinner went on, the spankin' of Deedee
-loomed up bigger than Pike's Peak. It piled up huge and record-breakin'
-above the tea-pots and the puddin's, and looked about as important as the
-end of the world, or a big war.
-</p>
-<p>
-When we got up it was like the condemned goin' to the execution, and we
-marched into the front room like a jury, bringin' in the death verdict,
-files into the court room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee still cried for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We four sat down, and looked at the carpet, as gloomy as a funeral. I
-opened my mouth, swallowed hard two times, and shut it again. Uncle Edward
-tapped on the carpet with his toe, grand-daddy looked at one of the spots
-on the same carpet like it was a personal insult to him, and Marthy
-smoothed out one of the roses on it with her heel. We wasn't half so
-interested in that carpet when we bought it as we looked to be that very
-minute.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well?” says Marthy, at last. I kept my eye away from hers. I looked out
-of the window. Next I got up and stood by the window and stuck my hands
-deep down into my pants pockets.
-</p>
-<p>
-“If you 're goin' to—” says Marthy. “If you ain't—”
- </p>
-<p>
-Deedee was gittin' too bad to stand. It looked as if the neighbors would
-be comin' in to complain, next thing.
-</p>
-<p>
-I turned around and walked slow toward the bedroom. The three other
-grown-ups sat like stone statures. As I pushed aside the curtains, Marthy
-jumped across the room and grabbed me by the arm.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Hiram!” she cried eager, “You won't be too severe? You won't git mad and
-hurt her?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Marthy,” I says, “if you want to spank her, do so. If you want me to
-spank her, don't you mix in.” I shook her hand off of me, and she went
-back to her chair cryin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-Well, I went into that bedroom. Deedee left off cryin' when she seen me,
-and in the dim light I could see her standin' in the crib. I stuck out my
-hand to take her, and she hung on to it.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she begged.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Edith,” I says, hoarse in my throat, “you 've been naughty. Papa told you
-to go to sleep, and mama told you to go to sleep. When we tell you to go
-to sleep, you've got to go to sleep. Now, this is the last time I'm goin'
-to tell you. Will you lie down and go to sleep?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she says, impatient.
-</p>
-<p>
-I set my mouth and lifted her up and laid her on the bed on her face and
-held her there. She struggled and yelled.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Be quiet!” I says, “be quiet, or I will spank you!”
- </p>
-<p>
-She gave one long, lingerin' cry for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I took a long breath, and lifted up my hand, and—and—I ain't
-a-goin' to tell about that. Let's go into the other room.
-</p>
-<p>
-There set the three other grownups, holdin' their hands over their ears,
-with pained lookin' faces. Even at that they heard the sound of a dozen
-short, sharp claps, and the sound of the quick cries, and then there was a
-silent spell, only broke by the great big sobs of the little kid in the
-next room,—sobs that sort of exploded their way out, shakin' the
-little body till the crib rattled.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/120.jpg" alt="The Sobbin' Got Weaker and Weaker 120 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-The sobbin' got weaker and weaker, and come further apart, and I stole out
-of the bedroom, wipin' my face with my handkerchief.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I think she'll be a good girly now,” says grand-daddy, gentle-like.
-</p>
-<p>
-That baby, shocked and surprised, laid on the pillow thinkin', as much as
-a baby could think. Something cruel and unexpected had happened to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Me and Marthy had turned cruel. She didn't have no one to love up to. She
-had been hurt. Her papa dear had hurt her, because she had cried for
-“laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I hope she will,” says Marthy in reply to grand-daddy, and that minute
-from the bedroom, come Deedee's voice.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa!” it pleaded.
-</p>
-<p>
-I jumped up from my chair. Evidently that child needed—
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, kiss!” says Deedee, soft and pleadin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-Well, I rather guess we all kissed her! We hugged her until she was
-gaspin' for breath, and she smiled at us, and forgive us all, even while
-the sobs come once in a while to interfere with her smilin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't she a dear, <i>dear</i> baby?” cried Marthy. “Poor little thing!”
- </p>
-<p>
-When we had loved her enough to spoil any good the spankin' had done,
-Marthy drove us out.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Come, deary,” she says to Deedee, “say your little prayers, mama forgot.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Deedee pressed up against her ma's knee, joyous.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Now I—” Marthy prompts her.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nowee—” says Deedee.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Lay me—” says Marthy.
-</p>
-<p>
-“<i>Laim</i>,” says Deedee, tickled as you please, and then wonderin' why
-the whole lot of us shouts out “Laim!” of a sudden, and why we laugh, and
-crowd 'round her, and kiss her, and kiss her!
-</p>
-<p>
-“Poor baby!” says Marthy. “To be spanked for wantin' to say her prayers!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“By George!” says Uncle Edward. “Talk about your martyrs! She beats the
-whole bunch!”
- </p>
-<p>
-And to think there was once a time when me and Marthy thought a kid was
-more bother than it was worth! There ain't no child, nowhere, that ain't
-worth more than everything else in the world all put together. No, sir! A
-baby has got more human nature in it than a man has, even. You take your
-big, rough hand to it, and you chastise it, so that it screams out, and
-the next minute it takes time in between sobs to hug its soft little arms
-around your neck, and kiss you. Ain't that the reallest kind of human
-nature? Why, that's the kind that makes the world worth livin' in at all.
-</p>
-<p>
-I don't seem to recollect ever hearin' that Heaven was set aside as a sort
-of place where married folks could hang about by twos. Them that has had
-experience knows that that would be a mighty poor kind of heaven—one
-without children in it. It's the child kind of human nature that sweetens
-up the world. The “give and take” kind—take your spankin' when it
-comes, and give back love in return for it.
-</p>
-<div style="height: 6em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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diff --git a/old/44148-h.zip b/old/44148-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e58b795..0000000 --- a/old/44148-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/44148-h/44148-h.htm b/old/44148-h/44148-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 3bfd03d..0000000 --- a/old/44148-h/44148-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1995 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html -PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> -<title> -The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - <!-- - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - --> -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Confessions of a Daddy - -Author: Ellis Parker Butler - -Illustrator: Fanny Y. Cory - -Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44148] -Last Updated: March 11, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - -<div style="height: 8em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h1> -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY -</h1> -<h2> -By Ellis Parker Butler -</h2> -<h3> -With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory -</h3> -<h5> -New York The Century Co. <br /> 1907 -</h5> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="frontispiece" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="titlepage" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<h4> -TO <br /> <br /> ELSIE McCOLM BUTLER A VERY GOOD CHILD THIS BOOK IS -INSCRIBED BY HER FATHER -</h4> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<p> -<b>CONTENTS</b> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. WHEN SHE CAME </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK </a> -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<p> -<b>List of Illustrations</b> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#linkimage-0001"> On the Floor With Her Stockings Not on Yet. -</a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#linkimage-0002"> She Was Like a Butterfly in Amongs the -Butterflies. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#linkimage-0003"> The Two Children Run to the Gate. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#linkimage-0004"> Edith L. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#linkimage-0005"> Mrs. Murphy's Children </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#linkimage-0006"> She Wouldn't Keep Still a Minute </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#linkimage-0007"> The Sobbin' Got Weaker and Weaker </a> -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> - -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY -</h2> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> guess we folks that live up at our end of town think we are about as -good as anybody in Colorado, and mebby a little better. We get along -together as pleasant as you please, and we are a sort of colony, as you -might say, all by ourselves. -</p> -<p> -Me and Marthy make especial good neighbors. We don't have no fights with -the other folks in our end of town, and in them days the neighbors hadn't -any reason to fight with us, for we didn't keep a dog and we hadn't no -children! I take notice that it is other folks dogs and children that make -most of the bad feelin's between neighbors. Of course we had mosquitos, -but Providence gives everybody something to practise up their patience, -and when me and Marthy sat out on our porch and heard other people's -children frettin' because the mosquitos was bad, we just sat there behind -our screened porch and thanked our stars that we did n't have no children -to leave our screen doors open. -</p> -<p> -It was n't but right that me and Marthy should act accordingly. I don't -mean that we were uppish about it, but we did feel that we could live a -little better than our neighbors that had all the expense of children, and -if our house was fixed up a little better, and we was able to go off three -or four weeks in the summer to the mountains, when all the rest stayed -right at home, we had a right to feel pleased about it. Lots of times we -had things our neighbors could n't afford, and then the little woman would -say to me: “Hiram, you don't know how thankful I am that we ain't got any -children,” and I agreed with her every time, and did it hearty, too. -</p> -<p> -'T was n't that we hated children. Far from it. We just thought that when -we saw all the extra worry and trouble and expense that other people's -children brought about, we were right satisfied to live the way we had -lived the five years since we was married—our neighbors still called -us the “Bride and Groom.” Nor I can't say that we were happier than the -other folks in our end of town, but we was more care-free. We lived more -joyous, as you might say. -</p> -<p> -One night when I come home from the store Marthy met me at the corner, and -when I had tucked her arm under mine, I asked her what was the news. Bobby -Jones had cut his finger bad; Stell Marks had took the measles; little Tot -Hemingway had run off, and her ma had gone near crazy until the kid was -found again; the Wallaces was n't goin' to take no vacation this year at -all because Fred was to go off to school in the fall, and they could n't -afford both. It was the usual lot of news of children bein' trouble and -expense. -</p> -<p> -I was feelin' fine, the next day bein' a holiday, and Marthy, with the -slick way women has, sprung a favor on me just when she set the broiled -steak on the table. Extry thick, and burnt brown—that's my favorite -steak—and whenever I see it that way my mouth waters, and I look out -for a favor to be asked. -</p> -<p> -“Hiram,” she says, quite as if she was openin' up a usual bit of talk, -“did you take notice of Mrs. Hemingway's silk dress last Sunday?” - </p> -<p> -“Why no, Marthy,” I says, “I didn't. Was it new?” - </p> -<p> -“New!” she laughed. “The idee! That's just what it wasn't. I believe she -has had that same silk ever since we have lived in this end of town, and -no one knows how much longer. It's a shame. She puts every cent she can -dig up on those children of hers, and has hardly a decent thing of her -own. I feel right sorry for her.” - </p> -<p> -“I feel sorry for Hemingway,” says I. “The old boy is workin' himself to -death. He never gits home until supper is all over, and he told me just -now that he felt it his bounden duty to work to-morrow. I tell you, -Marthy, children is an expensive luxury!” - </p> -<p> -“That's just what they are,” she agreed. “If it wasn't for their children, -the Hemingways could live every bit as good as we do, and he wouldn't have -to work of nights, poor fellow. But, Hiram,” she says, as if the idee had -just hit her, “do you recall to mind when this end of town has seen a new -silk dress?” - </p> -<p> -“Why, no—no,” I said; “when was it?” - </p> -<p> -“Years ago!” says the little woman. “I was figgerin' it up to-day, and it -was full two years ago. Ain't it awful?” - </p> -<p> -“Downright scandalous!” I says. “And just on account of those children, -too!” - </p> -<p> -Marthy looked down at her plate, innocent as you please. -</p> -<p> -“I'm glad we ain't got any children, Hiram,” she says, full of mischief. -</p> -<p> -That tickled me. I was tickled to see how she was tickled to think she had -trapped me. -</p> -<p> -“I guess it's our bounden duty to hold up the honor of our end of town by -showin' it a new silk dress,” I says, and the next thing I knew I was -fightin' to keep her from chokin' me to death. -</p> -<p> -All that evening Marthy was unusual quiet and right happy, too. As she sat -on the porch her eyes would wander off over-the-hills-and-far-away, and I -knew she was lost in joyous tanglements of bias and gores and plaits, -where a man can't foller if he wants to. But when we went inside and had -the blinds pulled down she put her arms around my neck again and gave me -another choke. -</p> -<p> -“Dear, dear old Hiram!” she says, and her eyes was tear-wet. “Just think! -A new silk dress!” And just then there came into the room the noise of the -Marks child—the one with the measles—whimpering. -</p> -<p> -“Ain't you glad,” says the little woman, “that we haven't any children to -spoil all our fun, and bother us?” and when I looked down into that happy -little face of hers, I was glad, and no mistake. -</p> -<p> -The next day was a beauty. It came in like a glory, and we was up almost -as soon as the sun was; for we had figgered on one of our regular old-time -jolly days by ourselves on the hills—one of the kind that made our -end of town call us the “Bride and Groom.” It was our plan to take a good -lunch, and just wander. Marthy was to take a book, and I was to take my -fishin' tackle, and beyond that was whatever happy thing that turned up. -</p> -<p> -“If we had children,” she said, “we couldn't go off on these long tramps -by ourselves.” - </p> -<p> -We got away while the neighbors in our end of town were still at -breakfast, and as we passed the Wallace's place we ran up to holler -good-by through the window at them, and there was the youngest Wallace -foolin' on the floor with her stockings not on yet, and breakfast half -over. Marthy stopped long enough to have a good, long look at the child. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/036.jpg" - alt="On the Floor With Her Stockings Not on Yet. 036 " width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -“If all the children was like Daisy Wallace,” she says, “they wouldn't be -so bad. She is the dearest thing I ever did see. She's got the cutest way -of kissin' a person on the eyelids.” - </p> -<p> -“She looks to be just as lazy in the dressin' act as the rest,” I -remarked, and I was surprised, the way Marthy turned on me. -</p> -<p> -“Why, Hiram Smith!” she cried; “didn't <i>you</i> ever dawdle over your -dressin'? When I was a girl I got lots of fun out of being late to -breakfast. What difference does it make, anyway, when she is perfectly -lovely all the rest of the time? I simply love that child. I wonder,” she -said, sort of wistful, “if they would let us take her with us to-day. She -would enjoy it so.” - </p> -<p> -“Foolishness,” I said. “We don't want to pull a kid along with us all day; -and anyhow, they are going to take her to the photographer's to-day to -have her picture took.” - </p> -<p> -We went out around town, and up the hill road. The morning air was great, -and nobody on the road at all, so far as we could see, and we stepped out -brisk and lively. -</p> -<p> -“Seems good to git away from the baby district, don't it?” I says, as we -was walkin' up the road. “We 're like Mister and Missus Robinson Crusoe,” - and at the very next turn we most fell over Bobby Jones and his -everlastin' chum, Rex, which is the most no-account dog on earth. -</p> -<p> -“Where y' goin'?” he asks. -</p> -<p> -“Nowheres particular,” says Marthy. “Just walkin' out to git the air.” - </p> -<p> -“So'm I,” says he, and then he says, sort of bluffin', “I ain't lost.” - </p> -<p> -“Yes you are, Bobby,” I says, severe as I could, “and if you know what's -good for a kid about your size you'd better turn right 'round and scoot -for home.” - </p> -<p> -He looked at me as if he would like to know who I was, to be bossin' him. -</p> -<p> -“Ho!” he says, “You ain't my pa. I don't have to do what you say! I won't -go home for you!” - </p> -<p> -Marthy was bendin' over him in a second. -</p> -<p> -“Bobby,” she says, coaxing-like, “do you know what your folks is going to -have for dinner?” - </p> -<p> -“No'm,” he says, as polite as you please. -</p> -<p> -“I do,” says the little woman. “Ice cream. And if you git lost you won't -git home in time to git any.” - </p> -<p> -Bobby looked up the road where he hadn't explored yet, and then looked -back the way he'd come, and then he smiled at Marthy and took off his cap -to her. -</p> -<p> -“Thank you, Missus Smith,” he says. -</p> -<p> -Marthy laughed as happy as a girl, and kissed him right on his dusty face. -She put her arms around him, even, and acted like she had never seen a -freckled boy before. -</p> -<p> -“Nice boy,” I remarked, when Bobby had gone down the road toward town. -</p> -<p> -“Nice!” says the little woman. “Nice! Is that all you can scrape up to -say? Why, there ain't a dearer child in our end of town than what Bobby -is. He's my sweetheart when you ain't at home. Hiram,” she says, looking -back at him as he paddled along kicking up the dust with his bare toes, “I -wonder if we dare take him with us?” - </p> -<p> -“What about his ice-cream?” I says. “What about having a kid dragging -after us all day?” So we went on, but I seen she felt a little mite -lonely-like, as you might say. Which was queer. -</p> -<p> -By ten o'clock we had got far enough from town, and we pushed through a -field that was all covered with flowers, and over to where the brook was, -with the tangle of trees and brush hiding it, and when I pushed apart the -brush to go through, I stopped and motioned for Marthy to come quiet and -look. -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="frontispiece" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -There, sittin' on a tree trunk, as quiet as you please, was Teddy -Lawrence, with his eyes glued on to his bobber, and thinkin' of nothing in -the world but fish. I'm a right hearty fisher myself, and it done my heart -good to see the strictly-business way that kid had. Marthy moved a little, -and I put my hand on her to make her keep still. -</p> -<p> -The boy lifted up his pole and looked at the bait like a regular old hand. -He dug a fresh, fat worm out of his can, and fixed it, and then I fairly -held my breath. Would he do it? No! But, hold on—yes! He leaned over -and spit on the bait to bring luck, just as natural as life! Say, wasn't -that real boy for you? I let the brush come together real quiet, and me -and Marthy slipped away. -</p> -<p> -Well, sir, my five-dollar pole and my two-dollar reel, made me feel sick. -</p> -<p> -What did I know about fishing, anyhow? I felt right there what was the -truth, that all my fishing amounted to was, that I was tryin' to bring -back the joys I used to have when I was a kid, settin' on a log, happy and -lonesome, watchin' my bottle-cork joggle on the ripples. What was the use? -A feller can't go back to them days. There ain't nothing to do about it. -Unless, of course, he can sort of go forward to them in—well, a -feller could sort of live them days over agin in a boy of his own. -</p> -<p> -“Wallace don't deserve that boy,” I says, sort of mad about I don't know -what. “What sort of a dad is that old book-worm of a Wallace for a boy -that likes to fish like Ted does? I'll bet Wallace never had a fish pole -in his hands since the day he was born. Now, if I had a boy like that I -could show him a thing or two about fishing. If I had a boy like that—” - </p> -<p> -“Look there!” says Marthy, sudden. “Did you ever see anything sweeter than -what that is?” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/046.jpg" - alt="She Was Like a Butterfly in Amongs the Butterflies. 46 " width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Over on the other end of the field Ted's sister was strayin' around in the -flowers, her face all rosy with the fresh air. She was like a butterfly in -amongst the butterflies, a mighty pretty girl, and just the age when a -mother loves a girl best and when a mother takes the most care of 'em. I -like pretty things as well as the next man does, and I'll say right here -that there was something about that girl that made me feel like I'd like -to own her—just like I feel about a real pretty rose, sort of covet -to keep it just as it is forever, and take care that it don't git spoiled -any way. -</p> -<p> -“I guess Mrs. Wallace don't rightly appreciate May,” says Marthy, -thoughtful-like. “I thinks she makes her study too much. When I was May's -age I had plenty of chances to git the fresh air, and you'd never see me -takin' up music-lessons in the summer. I spent my time feedin' the -chickens and runnin' about the farm, and enjoyin' life. It ain't right, -the way girls is forced in their studies nowadays. If I had a girl like -that—” - </p> -<p> -“If you had, what'd you do?” I asks, kindly enough, but the little woman -only laughed. Mebby her laugh was a bit reckless, as you might say. -</p> -<p> -“What's the use thinkin' what I'd do?” she says, turnin' round to go. -There didn't seem to be nothing special for me to say right then, so I -just put my arm around her, and we went on. -</p> -<p> -We was plumb tired out when we got home, and mebby that is why we was more -than usual quiet at dinner. I sure wasn't cross, but somehow our day -hadn't panned out as satisfactory as we'd thought it would, and mebby the -cryin' of the Wilkins' new baby got on my nerves, we being tired. I was -glad when dinner was over and we could take our chairs and go out on the -porch. -</p> -<p> -It was a fine night—still, and ca'm as you please. The only noise, -not countin' the cryin' of the Wilkins' kid, was the sounds of the -laughin' and chatter of the children in our end of town. But I was -lonesome. I can't speak for the little woman, how she felt, but <i>I</i> -felt lonesome—and her right there beside me, too. -</p> -<p> -Across the street we could see the two Hemingway children, who had coaxed -an extra half hour to wait for their father to come home before they went -to bed. They had their heads bent over a tumbler that they had caught two -fireflies in, and on the porch Mrs. Hemingway was rockin' the sleepy baby. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/054.jpg" alt="The Two Children Run to the Gate. 54 " width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Then we heard Hemingway's whistle—he can't whistle, but he likes to—and -the two children dropped the tumbler, and run to the gate, and then there -was a rush, and a mingling up of Hemingway kids and father, and the sleepy -baby slid down from its ma's lap and stood, unsteady but tryin' to git in -the kissing, with its arms held out. Happy? -</p> -<p> -I turned to the little woman, and I looked straight at her. Somehow I knew -that now, if ever, was a time for me to do some cheering-up. -</p> -<p> -“Well, little woman,” I says, cheerful-like, “<i>we</i> don't need a lot -of kids to bolster up our love, do we?” - </p> -<p> -She gave my hand a soft squeeze in reply. -</p> -<p> -“And about that gown—that silk gown,” I says, gaily. “Have you -decided what color it is to be yet? -</p> -<p> -“Won't you be fine! When I think how fine you'll look, I'm glad we haven't -no children to—” - </p> -<p> -Just then them Hemingways went inside, and our whole end of town was -quiet, and lonesome. -</p> -<p> -Marthy didn't answer, and when I lifted up her face to kiss her, what -d'you think? She was cryin'! -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -II. WHEN SHE CAME -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>fore the kid come, me and Marthy used to sit up nights tellin' each other -how much we'd like it if she turned out to be a boy. I said everything -that I knowed that was nice about boys, and drawed on my imagination for -what I didn't know, and Marthy spoke the same; so I convinced Marthy, -thorough, that I would be terrible disappointed if it wasn't a boy, and -she didn't leave me no doubts about her hankerin' for a baby of the male -sect. -</p> -<p> -Course we was both tryin' to square ourselves in case it <i>should</i> be -a boy. Come to find out, we was both of us tickled to death that it was a -girl. -</p> -<p> -We'd talked over boys' names by the bushel without ever coming to a -dead-set choice, but we most always squeezed in somewhere, sort of -apologetic, a remark that if it <i>should</i> happen to be a girl we'd -have to call it Edith L., after its grandmother. Somehow, as I look back -on it, it seems as if I'd never thought of that kid, at any time, except -as Edith L. Curious how folks will try to fool theirselves that way. -</p> -<p> -When it come to the auspicious occasion we had Doc Wolfert in, because he -was the only doc in our end of town. He certainly was a quaint old -bone-setter. Some said he took morphine on the sly, and some said it was -just his natural manner, but he was the shiftiest-eyed medic you ever saw. -No man livin' ever got him to say plain yes or no. He'd walk all 'round -them little words, like he was afraid of steppin' on them, and his gab was -full of perhapses and possiblys, and similar slick side-trackers of -knowledge. -</p> -<p> -I had figgered that when the aforesaid auspicious occasion turned up I'd -clean out to the woods until things got so I'd be useful as well as -ornamental; but when it come to a show-down, I couldn't. Farthest away I -could git was the front porch. I done my good twenty miles on the porch -that day, I'll bet, and whenever I've had a trial and tribulation time -since then, I can hear the sixth board from the south end of that porch -squeak. -</p> -<p> -I was walkin' on the level, but my spirits was climbin' hills and coastin' -into valleys. First minute I would be stickin' out my chest and thinkin' -how all-fired grand it would be to be a daddy, and the next minute I'd -cave in like a frost-bitten squash and wonder how in creation I'd ever -drag along as a widow-man. One minute I'd see myself sky-hootin' round -with a fine kid on my arm, and the next I'd see myself alone, with Marthy -gone. I've got the reputation around here of being a humorist man, but I -didn't say no funny sayings to myself that day, that I can remember. I had -fever, and cold sweats, and double contraction of the heart, and whenever -I thought of Marthy, I couldn't think of a decent thing that I'd ever done -to her. I felt I was an ornery, lowdown critter—which I ain't—and -I saw Marthy as a spotless angel—which she ain't neither. She's -woman and earthly all through, and mighty good earth at that. Marthy never -knew what a good chance she lost of being considered a perfectionated -saint, but she missed the chance. -</p> -<p> -Just about when I'd given up all hopes of ever seein' Marthy alive again, -Mrs. Murphy, (who we'd got in to sort of give the kid its first toilet, it -not being expected to be far enough advanced to do much primping on its -own account right at first) come to the door like a blessed ray of -sunshine, and percolated out a smile at me. -</p> -<p> -Loony as I was, I had sense enough left to know that she wasn't smilin' at -me for flirtation, nor because she had a smile that she didn't know what -to do with and so was passing it out to me, like a hand-out, just to git -rid of it. I connected that smile with other things. I knowed she was -smiling me back from a desolate widow-hood, or widow-man-hood, or whatever -the right word is. I know the right word, but it's got mislaid. Thank the -stars I ain't ever had no use for it, and I hope never to have. But I -guess every man feels like I did when I was walkin' that porch. When they -shut the door on him, and turn him out, and tell him they will call him -when they want him, he's a widow-man right from that moment and feels so. -And when they call him in and say all's doin' as well as could be expected -under the circumstances, right then he feels like his wife had rose from -the dead, and he becomes a married man again. I felt so, anyhow, and I -don't know as I'm a specially fancy feeler. I don't look it. -</p> -<p> -Right then I was boosted, like I tell you, from a deep black hole to a -high and airy location, and by a plain-faced, baggy Irish lady that did -washing by the day at fifty cents a day, and you furnished the soap. She's -been my friend ever since, and always will be. -</p> -<p> -As I passed in, feelin' more like war-whoopin' than like walkin' soft, she -whispered three words at me that finished me up. -</p> -<p> -“It's a girl,” says she. “Walk light, and stay where you are, and when you -can come in and see the girl, I'll bring her out and show her to you.” - </p> -<p> -I was clean idiotic with satisfaction. I sat down on the edge of a chair -and twirled my hat until I couldn't sit still, and then got up and edged -round the room lookin' at the pictures on the wall, for all the world like -I was a visitor. I'd got half-way through lookin' at the things on the -what-not, and was castin' my eye round for the photygraft album, when Mrs. -Murphy stuck her blessed face into the parlor. -</p> -<p> -“'Sh-h!” says she, “make no noise, and control your feelin's, and you can -come in for a quarter of a second and see your daughter.” - </p> -<p> -I was so proud I had cold chills, and I walked like a clothes-horse on -castors. -</p> -<p> -I looked for Marthy first, and I see she was a-sleepin' beautiful, and -then Mrs. Murphy pulled down the covers and showed me Edith L. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/066.jpg" alt="Edith L. 66 " width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -I took her all in at a glance, and I formed my own opinion right there. I -was like a rubber balloon when you stick a pin in it, but I didn't -collapse with a bang, I just caved in gradual. I went out of the room, and -out of the house, and sat down on the porch-step and blubbered. They never -missed me. -</p> -<p> -When I think back on that day it makes me laugh, but I was sure a rank -amateur in the baby business, and I didn't know no better then. Right now -I'd put up every cent I've got that you couldn't find a finer girl in the -state than what Edith L. is, and I've learned since that she was what you -might call an A-1 baby right from the start, but it didn't look that way -to me. She was the first of that age I'd ever been introduced to, and she -looked different than what I'd fig-gered on. I'd seen plenty of brand new -colts, and they run largely to legs, but you'd know them for -horse-critters right off; and I 've seen brand-new puppies, and their eyes -ain't open, but you'd know them immediate for dogs; but that kid didn't -look any more like what I'd calculated Edith L. would look like, than a -cucumber looks like a water-melon. My heart was plumb broke. I was scairt -when I thought what would happen to Marthy when she saw that wrinkled, red -little thing. -</p> -<p> -I knew we'd have to keep it, but I didn't see how we could bear the shame. -I made up my mind in a minute that we'd sell off the place and move up -into the mountains—just me and Marthy and the girl. I didn't think -of her as Edith L. any more. It wouldn't do to insult mother by givin' her -name to that baby. -</p> -<p> -I figgered it all out how I'd act better to Marthy than ever, to make up -for the trial that girl would be, and how I'd do all in man's power to -keep the girl from knowin' how handicapped she was by her looks. -</p> -<p> -Just then Brink Tuomy passed by, and he says: -</p> -<p> -“How's things comin' along?” - </p> -<p> -The boys had all been mighty interested in this baby business, and I knew -he'd trot off and tell them, so I says, sad enough: -</p> -<p> -“It's a girl.” - </p> -<p> -Brink seen I wasn't very jubilant, so he says: -</p> -<p> -“You don't seem very stuck up about it. But girls ain't so bad—when -you git used to them. Lady all right?” - </p> -<p> -“Yes,” I says, “she's O. K.” - </p> -<p> -Brink hung round a minute or two, waitin' for further orders, and none -comin', he says, hesitatin': -</p> -<p> -“So long!” - </p> -<p> -I let him go and was glad he went. -</p> -<p> -I looked out across the river, and calculated how I could fix it so Mrs. -Murphy wouldn't say nothin' outside about that poor kid of mine, and how -to keep the kid hid until me and Marthy could take her and skin out for -the mountains. -</p> -<p> -Mrs. Murphy was a terrible chatty lady—sort of perpetual phonygraft, -and wholesale and retail news agency. I guessed the best I could do was to -lock her in the cellar and then herd all comers away from the house. -</p> -<p> -Doc Wolfert didn't bother me any. I knowed <i>he</i> wouldn't give me -away. -</p> -<p> -If anybody could so much as git him to admit that there was a baby born at -my house they would be lucky. Just as a sample of what Doc was like, take -the case of Sandy Sam, who fell down the mine shaft and was brought up in -the bucket, as dead as Adam. Doc was on the ground as soon as they brought -Sandy up, and one of the boys that come late asked Doc what caused the -crowd to congregate. -</p> -<p> -“Well,” says Doc, lookin' off at an angle into the air, “it looks like -Sandy Sam, or some other feller, fell down the mine shaft.” - </p> -<p> -“Poor old Sam,” says the feller, “killed him, didn't it?” - </p> -<p> -Doc looked at the sky and considered. -</p> -<p> -“It's a remarkable deep shaft,” he says at last; “remarkable deep.” - “Thunder!” says the feller. “I know it's a deep shaft. What I asked you is -if Sam's dead. Is he?” - </p> -<p> -Doc went off into a dream, and when he come to, he looks at the feller. -</p> -<p> -“Oh!” he says, absent like. “Is Sam dead? Perhaps! Perhaps he is. I -shouldn't like to say. But,” he ended up, sort of pullin' hisself together -at the finish, “I wouldn't like to express an opinion, but I guess the -boys think he is. They are goin' to bury him.” - </p> -<p> -So I wasn't afraid of Doc Wolfert blabbin'. I knowed the worst, and, like -everybody else, I wanted somebody to tell me it wasn't so bad as I -thought. -</p> -<p> -I nailed Doc as he come out. I backed him up against a porch pillar and -conversed with him right there. I wanted to know just how bad it was. I -wanted to know what hope there was, if any. -</p> -<p> -“Doc,” I said—and I was blessed glad I had a beard so he couldn't -see the quivers in my chin—“she's terrible undersized, ain't she?” - </p> -<p> -“Hum!” says Doc. “You might call her small or you mightn't. I've seen 'em -bigger, and I 've seen 'em smaller. I've seen 'em all sizes.” - </p> -<p> -I couldn't see much help in that. “Doc,” I said, tremblin', “she won't -always be so—so dwarfed like, will she? She'll grow—some?” - </p> -<p> -“Probably,” says Doc. “I'd hate to say she wouldn't.” - </p> -<p> -I groaned. I had to. -</p> -<p> -“Ain't her head a little off shape, Doc?” I stammered out. I guess the -shape of the head had worried me most of all. It wasn't just what I'd -known good heads to be. -</p> -<p> -“You think so?” asked Doc, absent like. -</p> -<p> -“Don't you?” I went back at him. -</p> -<p> -“Tell me straight. I can stand the worst.” - </p> -<p> -“Hum!” he says. “Heads differ. I've got to go—” - </p> -<p> -“No you don't!” I says, backing him up against the post; “not till you -tell me. Her legs, now. Think they will ever straighten out? Think she'll -ever git over that red, scalded look? Think she'll ever be able to talk, -Doc?” - </p> -<p> -Doc looked anxious toward the road. -</p> -<p> -“Don't worry,” he says. “Don't fret. Keep cool and ca'm.” - </p> -<p> -“Yes,” I says, scornful like. “Me keep cool! Don't you know I'm that poor -little, bent-up kid's daddy? Don't you know I looked forward to callin' -her Edith L.? Don't you know—? Doc,” I says, strong and forcible, -“money ain't no object in a case like this. Tell me this: Shall I git a -specialist? Would it do any good to send to Denver and git a specialist, -or Chicago, or New York?” Doc looked interested at the horizon. -</p> -<p> -“Why, no,” he says, “no! I don't see that it would.” - </p> -<p> -I'll bet that that was the first time Doc ever said “No” straight out. It -settled me. I let go of his arm and sat right down. If Doc Wolfert spoke -up and said “No” I knew there wasn't nothing to be done. -</p> -<p> -I sat there probably about a thousand years, if you count by feelin's. I -had a wish to go in and see the kid, and then, again, I hated to. I hated -for Mrs. Murphy to look at me; I felt I'd blubber, and I was ashamed; but -I knew I'd ought to be there to take Marthy's hand when she woke up, and -to lie to her about it not bein' so bad as she would think. -</p> -<p> -That made me pull myself together. I made up my mind that I'd be a man, -anyway. I had Marthy to think of, and a man ain't made to be blubberin' -around when his women need help. I swallowed down the chunk of my neck -that had got stuck in my throat, and swiped my eyes, and stood on my legs. -When I turned, Mrs. Murphy was in the door. -</p> -<p> -“Well,” she says, “you don't take much interest, I must say. Here you sit -enjoyin' the landscape, and your daughter askin' where her father has gone -to, and is she an orphan or what. Come in,” she says, “or she'll be comin' -out.” - </p> -<p> -I walked in. -</p> -<p> -I stopped a bit by the bedroom door to git up my courage, and then I -walked into the room. -</p> -<p> -Marthy had her eyes open, and they looked up at me with a smile in them, -and then looked down again at the bunch on her arm under the quilt. -</p> -<p> -“Come and see her,” she says, feeble but proud. “Come and see your -daughter, Edith L.” - </p> -<p> -She slid down the covers so I could see her, and I looked at that kid with -a sick grin. -</p> -<p> -“Ain't she lovely?” she says. -</p> -<p> -“Sure!” I says, lying bravely. -</p> -<p> -“Don't talk,” says Mrs. Murphy, speakin' to Marthy, “or the session is -ended.” - </p> -<p> -“Just one word,” I says. “Marthy, are you satisfied with her—with -the kid?” - </p> -<p> -“She's perfect!” she says, “perfect and lovely.” - </p> -<p> -“All right,” I says, “then I don't mind.” - </p> -<p> -Marthy smiled, sort of weak. -</p> -<p> -“You will joke,” she says. -</p> -<p> -“Joke!” says Mrs. Murphy, indignant; “insult, I call it. Did you ever see -a finer baby?” - </p> -<p> -I looked to see if she winked. She didn't. -</p> -<p> -“How so?” I asked, my voice all of a tremble. -</p> -<p> -“How so?” she asks; “No 'how so' at all. She weighs ten pounds, and she's -sound in wind and limb,” she says, “and look at the grand shape of her -head! She'll be a college professoress at least, or maybe in Congress -before her pa. It's a grand baby she is!” - </p> -<p> -“Ten pounds!” I says; “ain't that some dwarfish?” - </p> -<p> -“Hear the man!” she says. “I don't believe he knows a fine baby when he -sees one.” - </p> -<p> -“Do you mean that, Mrs. Murphy?” I asked, every bit of blood in me goin' -on the jump. -</p> -<p> -“Mean it?” she says; “I've had six of my own, and not one of them could -hold a candle to this one.” - </p> -<p> -“Marthy!” I says. “Is it so?” - </p> -<p> -“Mrs. Murphy has fine children,” she says; “but my little girl, I think, -is finer.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/086.jpg" alt="Mrs. Murphy's Children 86 " width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -“How's her head?” I asked. “Perfect,” she says. -</p> -<p> -“And her color?” - </p> -<p> -“So healthy,” she says. -</p> -<p> -“And her legs?” - </p> -<p> -“So straight and strong,” she says. I took hold of her hand and squeezed -it good, and then I went to the window and looked out, and I saw all the -boys lined up along the fence waitin' for me to come out and let them know -that what I'd told Brink Tuomy was so. -</p> -<p> -Proud? I was so proud I felt like givin' Mrs. Murphy a million dollars. -</p> -<p> -“Dang it!” I yelped. “Let her dad have another good look at Edith L.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>OW, you just take a good look this here right fist of mine. -</p> -<p> -Looks like a ham, don't it? And see all them callouses on the palm. Ain't -that a tool fit to break rock with? And what'd you say if I told you I -used that once to hit that little, tender kid of mine? Actually hit her! -What you say to that? I won't forgit that night soon, I tell you! -</p> -<p> -Just figger to yourself that it's sundown, and the blinds pulled down in -the room where Deedee's cot was standin' like a little iron-barred cage. -We got into the way of callin' the kid Deedee, that bein' what she called -herself. There was all the signs that Deedee was goin' to sleep, and the -plainest sign was Deedee herself, standin' up in her crib, wide awake, -holdin' on to the foot of the crib, trampin' the sheets into a tangle of -white underbrush, as you might say, and no more asleep than you are. The -way Deedee went to sleep was like the death of an alligator—it was a -long and strenuous affair. -</p> -<p> -Marthy stood lookin' at Deedee with reproaches in her eyes. We had a sort -of tradition in the family that Deedee had to go to sleep quick and quiet, -without any nonsense. Every night, when Marthy put the little white rascal -in the crib, she had hopes that the tradition would come true, and every -night it didn't. The go-to-sleep hour was the time Deedee seemed to pick -out to have an hour of especial lively fun, and for weeks she had been -breakin' the laws, and walkin' all over the rules with her pink feet. She -did not see, comin' up over the horizon, and gittin' nearer every day, the -stern and horrid Spank! -</p> -<p> -We had got together in a sort of family conclave and decided that Deedee -was about old enough to be punished by layin' on of hands. We decided it -one time when Deedee was out of the room, and we had been right stern -about it. We could be stern about Deedee when she wasn't in sight. When -she come smilin' and singin' along we generally had to quit bein' stern, -and kiss her. -</p> -<p> -Deedee was twenty-two months old, and she was ninety-eight per cent, pure -sweetness. Some of the women in our end of town said her short, curly hair -was tow-colored, but it wasn't so—they was just envious of us. And -one and all said her eyes was like round little bits of blue sky. It was -clear enough that she had inherited her sweetness from Marthy; and some -said it was equal clear that the two per cent, of unadulterated -stubbornness come from me. I said so myself, but I didn't believe it. -</p> -<p> -Deedee was gittin' to be a regular person. She could tell what she wanted, -and once in a while we could understand what it was. It was full time, -everybody said, that her education had ought to begin. If she was goin' to -grow up into a fine, sincere woman like Marthy, she must have the right -kind of start. Just the night before the day of the Spank, Marthy had -begun to teach her her religious education. Standin' up at Marthy's knee—for -Deedee would not kneel to God or man—she had repeated:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Nowee-laimee-downee-seep, -Padee-O-so-tee.” - </pre> -<p> -Anybody had ought to know that was:— -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“Now I lay me down to sleep, -I pray the Lord my soul to keep.” - </pre> -<p> -It was a fine success for a first start, only she didn't do what she said -she was goin' to do and “lay me down to sleep.” Instead of that she stood -up in her crib for about an hour, callin' for “Mamie,” the meanin' of -which was that she wanted to be rocked and have Marthy sing “Mary had a -little lamb,” to her. -</p> -<p> -The day of the Spank had a bad openin'. When Deedee woke up, along about -five o'clock a.m., it was rainin' pitchforks, and that meant a day -indoors, and to start off, she stood up in her crib and called for “laim.” - </p> -<p> -Marthy woke up sort of realizin' that Deedee was repeatin' that word slow, -but regular, and she sat up and thought. “Laim” was a new word, and the -meanin' of it was unknown, but, whatever it was, Deedee wanted it. She -wanted it bad. Nothin' but “laim” would satisfy her. -</p> -<p> -Marthy studied that word good and hard. It did not seem to suggest -anything to eat or drink, and, as near as Marthy could make out, it didn't -rightly apply to any toy, game, song, person, or anything else. Marthy -woke me up, and I sat up with a sigh. Deedee looked at me as if she -thought she would git what she wanted now, sure. -</p> -<p> -“Laim, Deedee?” I asked, and she smiled as sweet as you please. -</p> -<p> -“Papa, laim!” she says again. “Laim!” I says, thoughtful, lookin' around -the room and up at the ceilin'. I screwed up my forehead and studied, and -twisted my neck to look into the next room. “Laim! What's a 'laim,' -anyhow?” - </p> -<p> -“I give it up,” I says, after I'd thought of everything in the world, -pretty near. “Mebby her grandpa would know. Mebby it's something he taught -her.” - </p> -<p> -We lifted Deedee out of her crib, and set her down on the floor, and she -pattered down the hall. We could hear her tellin' him to give her “laim,” - and the puzzled way he answered her back. -</p> -<p> -“Laim, birdy? What is it? Say it again, Deedee. Laim? Grand-daddy don't -know what you want, Deedee.” - </p> -<p> -Neither did Uncle Ed, who was stayin' with us about then. Nobody knew what -“laim” was but Deedee, and she wanted it the worst way. She come back, and -stood by Marthy's bed, and just begged for it. -</p> -<p> -It was a hard day for Marthy. It was Monday, and wash-day, so Deedee -couldn't bother Katie in the kitchen, and it was rainin' too. Deedee just -wandered through the house, like she had lost her last friend, and then -she would come back to Marthy and ask for “laim.” She wouldn't have -nothing to do with her toys, and she wouldn't sew with a pin, and she -wouldn't sit at the table and write, and she wouldn't look at the -photygraft book. And the worst of it was that she wouldn't keep still a -minute. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/100.jpg" alt="She Wouldn't Keep Still a Minute 100 " width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -By noon-time Marthy had a headache. By sundown she had “nerves,” and about -then she began to look at Deedee with a sort of reproachful look. Deedee -had said that unknown word about ten thousand times. Marthy put Deedee to -bed in her crib, and I read once how Wellington, at Waterloo, in the big -fight they had there, prayed for night or Blücher, and that was about how -Marthy longed for the sandman or me to come. I was the one that come, at -last. I come in the house wet to the skin, and plumb disgusted; my pants -stickin' to my legs and all over mud, and I chucked my soakin' hat and my -umbrelly into a corner, the way a tired-out man will, and just dropped -into a chair, tuckered out. I let out one good, long sigh of thanks that I -was at the end of a hard day. -</p> -<p> -“Hiram!” comes Marthy's voice; “Come in here, and see if you can do -anything with Edith. I have worked with her all day, and I'm played out; -I'm utter tired.” - </p> -<p> -“Oh, plague!” I says. I sat a minute, drummin' on the arm of my chair, and -then I got upon my feet, and walked into the bedroom. -</p> -<p> -“What's the matter?” I says, as near cross as I calculate I ever git, and -Marthy's eyes filled up. -</p> -<p> -“I <i>can't</i> do anything with her,” she says. “She <i>won't</i> go to -sleep. She has been dreadful all day. I don't feel like I could stand it -another minute.” Marthy threw herself on the bed and covered up her face -with her hands. She was cryin'. -</p> -<p> -I guess I frowned. -</p> -<p> -Deedee looked up at me as sweet as a little angel. -</p> -<p> -“Papa, laim,” she says. -</p> -<p> -“No!” says I, “No laim, Deedee. You lie down and go to sleep like a good -girl. Papa'll fix your pillow nice.” - </p> -<p> -I pounded up her pillow, and turned it over, and pulled the sheets out -straight. Then I took the baby and laid her down gentle. She smiled and -cuddled into the pillow. -</p> -<p> -“Oh, what a nice bed!” I says. “Ain't it a nice bed, Deedee?” - </p> -<p> -“Nice bed,” she allowed. -</p> -<p> -“Will I cover your feet?” I says. -</p> -<p> -“Feet cov,” she <i>says</i>, eager. -</p> -<p> -So I spread the sheet up over her feet. -</p> -<p> -“Shut little eyes,” I says in warning, but as gentle as you please, and -she shut up her eyes so tight her eyelids wrinkled. -</p> -<p> -“Now, good night, Deedee,” I says. -</p> -<p> -“'Night, pa—pa!” she coos. -</p> -<p> -I stole out of the room as quiet as I knowed how, and dropped cautious -into my chair. I leaned back and smiled sort of grim. “That shows,” I -thinks, “that women ain't got the right kind of tact to handle a kid, or -else they 've got catchin' nerves. It shows how easy a man can—” - </p> -<p> -“Papa, laim!” - </p> -<p> -Deedee's clear little voice just cut what I was thinkin' into two pieces. -I was into that bedroom in about two steps. Deedee was standin' up in her -crib. -</p> -<p> -“Papa, laim?” she says, sort of anxious. -</p> -<p> -“No!” I says, stern in earnest. “No laim!” - </p> -<p> -“Papa, laim!” she demands. -</p> -<p> -“No!” I says, in a way that froze her smile right where it was. She looked -up at me doubtful-like, her little pink and white chin puckered up all -ready to cry. -</p> -<p> -“Papa, laim, laim!” she pleaded. -</p> -<p> -I reached over and forced her right back on to her pillow. -</p> -<p> -“Deedee!” I says, in a voice that was new and that she wasn't acquainted -with; “go to sleep! Be quiet! Stop this instant, or I <i>will</i> SPANK -you!” - </p> -<p> -I guess, mebby, the angels kept on singin' as joyful as ever up in Heaven. -I guess, mebby, somewhere out west further, the sun was shinin' down gay -on noddin', careless flowers. Mebby, even in the next block, some good -baby was bein' snuggled up in its ma's arms; but to Deedee, lyin' in the -corner of her crib, the world had got a million years older in about a -minute. Her world that had been all smiles and pleasant things had turned -into a world of hard words and cruel faces. Her mama dear had on a mask of -unfeelin' coldness. Her papa dear stood up there towerin' above her, a -sort of giant of wrath, flourishin' an awful, mysterious weapon, the word -“spank.” - </p> -<p> -It looked like everybody had gone back on her. Her friends—which was -me and Marthy, her playmates—which was me and Marthy, her lovers—which -was me and Marthy, the providers of her joy—which was me and Marthy, -had turned into avengers. She was all alone in a world of clubs. Just one -wee kid and everybody against her. -</p> -<p> -She lay there a minute palpitatin', with her chin tremblin' piteous. What -was to be did when her parents vanished, and these strange, harsh people -took their places? -</p> -<p> -She crep' to the foot of the crib, where I was still standin', and she got -up and took hold of my arm and hugged it. -</p> -<p> -“Pa-pa!” she says, loving. -</p> -<p> -I pushed her back on the pillow again, gentle but firm. -</p> -<p> -“Edith,” I says in the hard voice she wasn't acquainted with; “Lie down -and go to sleep. I don't want to have no more of this. Go to sleep!” I -heard the dinner bell tinkle from the dinin'-room, and I helped Marthy to -git up, and we went out, and left Deedee alone in the dark. -</p> -<p> -I ate the first part of my dinner without sayin' anything. It wasn't -exactly easy to be lively under them circumstances. Even Uncle Ned didn't -say nothin', and grand-daddy didn't feel called on to start a -conversation. It got so we was so quiet it hurt. Uncle Ed made bold to -speak. -</p> -<p> -“When I was a kid,” he says, lightly, “I used to git spanked with a -six-inch plank.” - </p> -<p> -“Edward!” says Marthy. “How can you say such a thing?” - </p> -<p> -“It done me good,” he says. “You can't begin too young. We 've all got the -devil in us, and the only way to git it out is to pound it out.” - </p> -<p> -Marthy laid down her fork, and her lips trembled. -</p> -<p> -“Cut that out, Ed,” I says. “Marthy has the nerves to-night; the subject -ain't popular.” - </p> -<p> -“I think she's goin' to be good now,” says grand-daddy, who always stuck -up for the kid bein' the best that ever lived. “She seems quiet enough. -She must have gone off to sleep.” - </p> -<p> -“I sure do hope so,” says Marthy. “I never had such a day with her.” - “Mama, laim!” came the little voice from the bedroom, of a sudden. -</p> -<p> -“I met Tuomy to-day,” I says, “and he—” - </p> -<p> -“Mama, laim! Mama, laim!” called Deedee. -</p> -<p> -“He asked to be remembered to you,” I says. “He was with May Wilson—” - </p> -<p> -From the bedroom come a low, maddenin' wail:— -</p> -<p> -“Mama, laim! Papa, laim!” - </p> -<p> -It kept gittin' louder. It got to be a regular cry, punctuated off here -and there with calls for “laim.” - </p> -<p> -Marthy looked at me, hopeless. I seen the look and looked down at my -plate. -</p> -<p> -“I'll spank her when I'm done my dinner,” I says. “There's no other way.” - </p> -<p> -We didn't say much durin' the rest of that meal. It was a very solemn -feast. We was all thinkin' of Deedee. There wasn't no doubt that the time -had come we had been afraid of. The punishment and the crime was properly -fitted to each other. -</p> -<p> -Now, or never, was the time to spank; but we was a ridiculous -tender-hearted family, and, as the dinner went on, the spankin' of Deedee -loomed up bigger than Pike's Peak. It piled up huge and record-breakin' -above the tea-pots and the puddin's, and looked about as important as the -end of the world, or a big war. -</p> -<p> -When we got up it was like the condemned goin' to the execution, and we -marched into the front room like a jury, bringin' in the death verdict, -files into the court room. -</p> -<p> -Deedee still cried for “laim.” - </p> -<p> -We four sat down, and looked at the carpet, as gloomy as a funeral. I -opened my mouth, swallowed hard two times, and shut it again. Uncle Edward -tapped on the carpet with his toe, grand-daddy looked at one of the spots -on the same carpet like it was a personal insult to him, and Marthy -smoothed out one of the roses on it with her heel. We wasn't half so -interested in that carpet when we bought it as we looked to be that very -minute. -</p> -<p> -“Well?” says Marthy, at last. I kept my eye away from hers. I looked out -of the window. Next I got up and stood by the window and stuck my hands -deep down into my pants pockets. -</p> -<p> -“If you 're goin' to—” says Marthy. “If you ain't—” - </p> -<p> -Deedee was gittin' too bad to stand. It looked as if the neighbors would -be comin' in to complain, next thing. -</p> -<p> -I turned around and walked slow toward the bedroom. The three other -grown-ups sat like stone statures. As I pushed aside the curtains, Marthy -jumped across the room and grabbed me by the arm. -</p> -<p> -“Hiram!” she cried eager, “You won't be too severe? You won't git mad and -hurt her?” - </p> -<p> -“Marthy,” I says, “if you want to spank her, do so. If you want me to -spank her, don't you mix in.” I shook her hand off of me, and she went -back to her chair cryin'. -</p> -<p> -Well, I went into that bedroom. Deedee left off cryin' when she seen me, -and in the dim light I could see her standin' in the crib. I stuck out my -hand to take her, and she hung on to it. -</p> -<p> -“Papa, laim!” she begged. -</p> -<p> -“Edith,” I says, hoarse in my throat, “you 've been naughty. Papa told you -to go to sleep, and mama told you to go to sleep. When we tell you to go -to sleep, you've got to go to sleep. Now, this is the last time I'm goin' -to tell you. Will you lie down and go to sleep?” - </p> -<p> -“Papa, laim!” she says, impatient. -</p> -<p> -I set my mouth and lifted her up and laid her on the bed on her face and -held her there. She struggled and yelled. -</p> -<p> -“Be quiet!” I says, “be quiet, or I will spank you!” - </p> -<p> -She gave one long, lingerin' cry for “laim.” - </p> -<p> -I took a long breath, and lifted up my hand, and—and—I ain't -a-goin' to tell about that. Let's go into the other room. -</p> -<p> -There set the three other grownups, holdin' their hands over their ears, -with pained lookin' faces. Even at that they heard the sound of a dozen -short, sharp claps, and the sound of the quick cries, and then there was a -silent spell, only broke by the great big sobs of the little kid in the -next room,—sobs that sort of exploded their way out, shakin' the -little body till the crib rattled. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/120.jpg" alt="The Sobbin' Got Weaker and Weaker 120 " width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -The sobbin' got weaker and weaker, and come further apart, and I stole out -of the bedroom, wipin' my face with my handkerchief. -</p> -<p> -“I think she'll be a good girly now,” says grand-daddy, gentle-like. -</p> -<p> -That baby, shocked and surprised, laid on the pillow thinkin', as much as -a baby could think. Something cruel and unexpected had happened to her. -</p> -<p> -Me and Marthy had turned cruel. She didn't have no one to love up to. She -had been hurt. Her papa dear had hurt her, because she had cried for -“laim.” - </p> -<p> -“I hope she will,” says Marthy in reply to grand-daddy, and that minute -from the bedroom, come Deedee's voice. -</p> -<p> -“Papa!” it pleaded. -</p> -<p> -I jumped up from my chair. Evidently that child needed— -</p> -<p> -“Papa, kiss!” says Deedee, soft and pleadin'. -</p> -<p> -Well, I rather guess we all kissed her! We hugged her until she was -gaspin' for breath, and she smiled at us, and forgive us all, even while -the sobs come once in a while to interfere with her smilin'. -</p> -<p> -“Ain't she a dear, <i>dear</i> baby?” cried Marthy. “Poor little thing!” - </p> -<p> -When we had loved her enough to spoil any good the spankin' had done, -Marthy drove us out. -</p> -<p> -“Come, deary,” she says to Deedee, “say your little prayers, mama forgot.” - </p> -<p> -Deedee pressed up against her ma's knee, joyous. -</p> -<p> -“Now I—” Marthy prompts her. -</p> -<p> -“Nowee—” says Deedee. -</p> -<p> -“Lay me—” says Marthy. -</p> -<p> -“<i>Laim</i>,” says Deedee, tickled as you please, and then wonderin' why -the whole lot of us shouts out “Laim!” of a sudden, and why we laugh, and -crowd 'round her, and kiss her, and kiss her! -</p> -<p> -“Poor baby!” says Marthy. “To be spanked for wantin' to say her prayers!” - </p> -<p> -“By George!” says Uncle Edward. “Talk about your martyrs! She beats the -whole bunch!” - </p> -<p> -And to think there was once a time when me and Marthy thought a kid was -more bother than it was worth! There ain't no child, nowhere, that ain't -worth more than everything else in the world all put together. No, sir! A -baby has got more human nature in it than a man has, even. You take your -big, rough hand to it, and you chastise it, so that it screams out, and -the next minute it takes time in between sobs to hug its soft little arms -around your neck, and kiss you. Ain't that the reallest kind of human -nature? Why, that's the kind that makes the world worth livin' in at all. -</p> -<p> -I don't seem to recollect ever hearin' that Heaven was set aside as a sort -of place where married folks could hang about by twos. Them that has had -experience knows that that would be a mighty poor kind of heaven—one -without children in it. It's the child kind of human nature that sweetens -up the world. The “give and take” kind—take your spankin' when it -comes, and give back love in return for it. -</p> -<div style="height: 6em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - -***** This file should be named 44148-h.htm or 44148-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/4/44148/ - -Produced by David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: The Confessions of a Daddy - -Author: Ellis Parker Butler - -Illustrator: Fanny Y. Cory - -Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44148] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY - -By Ellis Parker Butler - -With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory - -New York The Century Co. - -1907 - - -TO - -ELSIE McCOLM BUTLER A VERY GOOD CHILD THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED BY HER -FATHER - - - - -THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY - - - - -I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES - -I guess we folks that live up at our end of town think we are about as -good as anybody in Colorado, and mebby a little better. We get along -together as pleasant as you please, and we are a sort of colony, as you -might say, all by ourselves. - -Me and Marthy make especial good neighbors. We don't have no fights with -the other folks in our end of town, and in them days the neighbors hadn't -any reason to fight with us, for we didn't keep a dog and we hadn't -no children! I take notice that it is other folks dogs and children -that make most of the bad feelin's between neighbors. Of course we had -mosquitos, but Providence gives everybody something to practise up -their patience, and when me and Marthy sat out on our porch and heard -other people's children frettin' because the mosquitos was bad, we just -sat there behind our screened porch and thanked our stars that we did -n't have no children to leave our screen doors open. - -It was n't but right that me and Marthy should act accordingly. I don't -mean that we were uppish about it, but we did feel that we could live a -little better than our neighbors that had all the expense of children, -and if our house was fixed up a little better, and we was able to go off -three or four weeks in the summer to the mountains, when all the rest -stayed right at home, we had a right to feel pleased about it. Lots of -times we had things our neighbors could n't afford, and then the little -woman would say to me: "Hiram, you don't know how thankful I am that we -ain't got any children," and I agreed with her every time, and did it -hearty, too. - -'T was n't that we hated children. Far from it. We just thought that -when we saw all the extra worry and trouble and expense that other -people's children brought about, we were right satisfied to live the way -we had lived the five years since we was married--our neighbors still -called us the "Bride and Groom." Nor I can't say that we were happier -than the other folks in our end of town, but we was more care-free. We -lived more joyous, as you might say. - -One night when I come home from the store Marthy met me at the corner, -and when I had tucked her arm under mine, I asked her what was the news. -Bobby Jones had cut his finger bad; Stell Marks had took the measles; -little Tot Hemingway had run off, and her ma had gone near crazy until -the kid was found again; the Wallaces was n't goin' to take no vacation -this year at all because Fred was to go off to school in the fall, and -they could n't afford both. It was the usual lot of news of children -bein' trouble and expense. - -I was feelin' fine, the next day bein' a holiday, and Marthy, with the -slick way women has, sprung a favor on me just when she set the broiled -steak on the table. Extry thick, and burnt brown--that's my favorite -steak--and whenever I see it that way my mouth waters, and I look out -for a favor to be asked. - -"Hiram," she says, quite as if she was openin' up a usual bit of talk, -"did you take notice of Mrs. Hemingway's silk dress last Sunday?" - -"Why no, Marthy," I says, "I didn't. Was it new?" - -"New!" she laughed. "The idee! That's just what it wasn't. I believe she -has had that same silk ever since we have lived in this end of town, and -no one knows how much longer. It's a shame. She puts every cent she can -dig up on those children of hers, and has hardly a decent thing of her -own. I feel right sorry for her." - -"I feel sorry for Hemingway," says I. "The old boy is workin' himself to -death. He never gits home until supper is all over, and he told me just -now that he felt it his bounden duty to work to-morrow. I tell you, -Marthy, children is an expensive luxury!" - -"That's just what they are," she agreed. "If it wasn't for their -children, the Hemingways could live every bit as good as we do, and he -wouldn't have to work of nights, poor fellow. But, Hiram," she says, as -if the idee had just hit her, "do you recall to mind when this end of -town has seen a new silk dress?" - -"Why, no--no," I said; "when was it?" - -"Years ago!" says the little woman. "I was figgerin' it up to-day, and -it was full two years ago. Ain't it awful?" - -"Downright scandalous!" I says. "And just on account of those children, -too!" - -Marthy looked down at her plate, innocent as you please. - -"I'm glad we ain't got any children, Hiram," she says, full of mischief. - -That tickled me. I was tickled to see how she was tickled to think she -had trapped me. - -"I guess it's our bounden duty to hold up the honor of our end of town -by showin' it a new silk dress," I says, and the next thing I knew I was -fightin' to keep her from chokin' me to death. - -All that evening Marthy was unusual quiet and right happy, too. As she -sat on the porch her eyes would wander off over-the-hills-and-far-away, -and I knew she was lost in joyous tanglements of bias and gores and -plaits, where a man can't foller if he wants to. But when we went inside -and had the blinds pulled down she put her arms around my neck again and -gave me another choke. - -"Dear, dear old Hiram!" she says, and her eyes was tear-wet. "Just -think! A new silk dress!" And just then there came into the room the -noise of the Marks child--the one with the measles--whimpering. - -"Ain't you glad," says the little woman, "that we haven't any children -to spoil all our fun, and bother us?" and when I looked down into that -happy little face of hers, I was glad, and no mistake. - -The next day was a beauty. It came in like a glory, and we was up -almost as soon as the sun was; for we had figgered on one of our regular -old-time jolly days by ourselves on the hills--one of the kind that made -our end of town call us the "Bride and Groom." It was our plan to take -a good lunch, and just wander. Marthy was to take a book, and I was to -take my fishin' tackle, and beyond that was whatever happy thing that -turned up. - -"If we had children," she said, "we couldn't go off on these long tramps -by ourselves." - -We got away while the neighbors in our end of town were still at -breakfast, and as we passed the Wallace's place we ran up to holler -good-by through the window at them, and there was the youngest Wallace -foolin' on the floor with her stockings not on yet, and breakfast half -over. Marthy stopped long enough to have a good, long look at the child. - -[Illustration: On the floor with her stockings not on yet. 036] - -"If all the children was like Daisy Wallace," she says, "they wouldn't -be so bad. She is the dearest thing I ever did see. She's got the cutest -way of kissin' a person on the eyelids." - -"She looks to be just as lazy in the dressin' act as the rest," I -remarked, and I was surprised, the way Marthy turned on me. - -"Why, Hiram Smith!" she cried; "didn't _you_ ever dawdle over your -dressin'? When I was a girl I got lots of fun out of being late to -breakfast. What difference does it make, anyway, when she is perfectly -lovely all the rest of the time? I simply love that child. I wonder," -she said, sort of wistful, "if they would let us take her with us -to-day. She would enjoy it so." - -"Foolishness," I said. "We don't want to pull a kid along with us all -day; and anyhow, they are going to take her to the photographer's to-day -to have her picture took." - -We went out around town, and up the hill road. The morning air was -great, and nobody on the road at all, so far as we could see, and we -stepped out brisk and lively. - -"Seems good to git away from the baby district, don't it?" I says, as -we was walkin' up the road. "We 're like Mister and Missus Robinson -Crusoe," and at the very next turn we most fell over Bobby Jones and his -everlastin' chum, Rex, which is the most no-account dog on earth. - -"Where y' goin'?" he asks. - -"Nowheres particular," says Marthy. "Just walkin' out to git the air." - -"So'm I," says he, and then he says, sort of bluffin', "I ain't lost." - -"Yes you are, Bobby," I says, severe as I could, "and if you know what's -good for a kid about your size you'd better turn right 'round and scoot -for home." - -He looked at me as if he would like to know who I was, to be bossin' -him. - -"Ho!" he says, "You ain't my pa. I don't have to do what you say! I -won't go home for you!" - -Marthy was bendin' over him in a second. - -"Bobby," she says, coaxing-like, "do you know what your folks is going -to have for dinner?" - -"No'm," he says, as polite as you please. - -"I do," says the little woman. "Ice cream. And if you git lost you won't -git home in time to git any." - -Bobby looked up the road where he hadn't explored yet, and then looked -back the way he'd come, and then he smiled at Marthy and took off his -cap to her. - -"Thank you, Missus Smith," he says. - -Marthy laughed as happy as a girl, and kissed him right on his dusty -face. She put her arms around him, even, and acted like she had never -seen a freckled boy before. - -"Nice boy," I remarked, when Bobby had gone down the road toward town. - -"Nice!" says the little woman. "Nice! Is that all you can scrape up to -say? Why, there ain't a dearer child in our end of town than what Bobby -is. He's my sweetheart when you ain't at home. Hiram," she says, looking -back at him as he paddled along kicking up the dust with his bare toes, -"I wonder if we dare take him with us?" - -"What about his ice-cream?" I says. "What about having a kid dragging -after us all day?" So we went on, but I seen she felt a little mite -lonely-like, as you might say. Which was queer. - -By ten o'clock we had got far enough from town, and we pushed through -a field that was all covered with flowers, and over to where the brook -was, with the tangle of trees and brush hiding it, and when I pushed -apart the brush to go through, I stopped and motioned for Marthy to come -quiet and look. - -There, sittin' on a tree trunk, as quiet as you please, was Teddy -Lawrence, with his eyes glued on to his bobber, and thinkin' of nothing -in the world but fish. I'm a right hearty fisher myself, and it done my -heart good to see the strictly-business way that kid had. Marthy moved a -little, and I put my hand on her to make her keep still. - -The boy lifted up his pole and looked at the bait like a regular old -hand. He dug a fresh, fat worm out of his can, and fixed it, and then I -fairly held my breath. Would he do it? No! But, hold on--yes! He leaned -over and spit on the bait to bring luck, just as natural as life! Say, -wasn't that real boy for you? I let the brush come together real quiet, -and me and Marthy slipped away. - -Well, sir, my five-dollar pole and my two-dollar reel, made me feel -sick. - -What did I know about fishing, anyhow? I felt right there what was the -truth, that all my fishing amounted to was, that I was tryin' to bring -back the joys I used to have when I was a kid, settin' on a log, happy -and lonesome, watchin' my bottle-cork joggle on the ripples. What was -the use? A feller can't go back to them days. There ain't nothing to do -about it. Unless, of course, he can sort of go forward to them in--well, -a feller could sort of live them days over agin in a boy of his own. - -"Wallace don't deserve that boy," I says, sort of mad about I don't know -what. "What sort of a dad is that old book-worm of a Wallace for a boy -that likes to fish like Ted does? I'll bet Wallace never had a fish pole -in his hands since the day he was born. Now, if I had a boy like that I -could show him a thing or two about fishing. If I had a boy like that--" - -"Look there!" says Marthy, sudden. "Did you ever see anything sweeter -than what that is?" - -[Illustration: She was like a butterfly in amongs the butterflies. 46] - -Over on the other end of the field Ted's sister was strayin' around -in the flowers, her face all rosy with the fresh air. She was like a -butterfly in amongst the butterflies, a mighty pretty girl, and just -the age when a mother loves a girl best and when a mother takes the most -care of 'em. I like pretty things as well as the next man does, and I'll -say right here that there was something about that girl that made me -feel like I'd like to own her--just like I feel about a real pretty -rose, sort of covet to keep it just as it is forever, and take care that -it don't git spoiled any way. - -"I guess Mrs. Wallace don't rightly appreciate May," says Marthy, -thoughtful-like. "I thinks she makes her study too much. When I was -May's age I had plenty of chances to git the fresh air, and you'd never -see me takin' up music-lessons in the summer. I spent my time feedin' -the chickens and runnin' about the farm, and enjoyin' life. It ain't -right, the way girls is forced in their studies nowadays. If I had a -girl like that--" - -"If you had, what'd you do?" I asks, kindly enough, but the little woman -only laughed. Mebby her laugh was a bit reckless, as you might say. - -"What's the use thinkin' what I'd do?" she says, turnin' round to go. -There didn't seem to be nothing special for me to say right then, so I -just put my arm around her, and we went on. - -We was plumb tired out when we got home, and mebby that is why we was -more than usual quiet at dinner. I sure wasn't cross, but somehow our -day hadn't panned out as satisfactory as we'd thought it would, and -mebby the cryin' of the Wilkins' new baby got on my nerves, we being -tired. I was glad when dinner was over and we could take our chairs and -go out on the porch. - -It was a fine night--still, and ca'm as you please. The only noise, not -countin' the cryin' of the Wilkins' kid, was the sounds of the laughin' -and chatter of the children in our end of town. But I was lonesome. -I can't speak for the little woman, how she felt, but _I_ felt -lonesome--and her right there beside me, too. - -Across the street we could see the two Hemingway children, who had -coaxed an extra half hour to wait for their father to come home before -they went to bed. They had their heads bent over a tumbler that they had -caught two fireflies in, and on the porch Mrs. Hemingway was rockin' the -sleepy baby. - -[Illustration: The two children run to the gate. 54] - -Then we heard Hemingway's whistle--he can't whistle, but he likes -to--and the two children dropped the tumbler, and run to the gate, and -then there was a rush, and a mingling up of Hemingway kids and father, -and the sleepy baby slid down from its ma's lap and stood, unsteady but -tryin' to git in the kissing, with its arms held out. Happy? - -I turned to the little woman, and I looked straight at her. Somehow I -knew that now, if ever, was a time for me to do some cheering-up. - -"Well, little woman," I says, cheerful-like, "_we_ don't need a lot of -kids to bolster up our love, do we?" - -She gave my hand a soft squeeze in reply. - -"And about that gown--that silk gown," I says, gaily. "Have you decided -what color it is to be yet? - -"Won't you be fine! When I think how fine you'll look, I'm glad we -haven't no children to--" - -Just then them Hemingways went inside, and our whole end of town was -quiet, and lonesome. - -Marthy didn't answer, and when I lifted up her face to kiss her, what -d'you think? She was cryin'! - - - - -II. WHEN SHE CAME - -Afore the kid come, me and Marthy used to sit up nights tellin' each -other how much we'd like it if she turned out to be a boy. I said -everything that I knowed that was nice about boys, and drawed on my -imagination for what I didn't know, and Marthy spoke the same; so I -convinced Marthy, thorough, that I would be terrible disappointed if it -wasn't a boy, and she didn't leave me no doubts about her hankerin' for -a baby of the male sect. - -Course we was both tryin' to square ourselves in case it _should_ be a -boy. Come to find out, we was both of us tickled to death that it was a -girl. - -We'd talked over boys' names by the bushel without ever coming to a -dead-set choice, but we most always squeezed in somewhere, sort of -apologetic, a remark that if it _should_ happen to be a girl we'd have -to call it Edith L., after its grandmother. Somehow, as I look back on -it, it seems as if I'd never thought of that kid, at any time, except as -Edith L. Curious how folks will try to fool theirselves that way. - -When it come to the auspicious occasion we had Doc Wolfert in, because -he was the only doc in our end of town. He certainly was a quaint old -bone-setter. Some said he took morphine on the sly, and some said it was -just his natural manner, but he was the shiftiest-eyed medic you ever -saw. No man livin' ever got him to say plain yes or no. He'd walk all -'round them little words, like he was afraid of steppin' on them, -and his gab was full of perhapses and possiblys, and similar slick -side-trackers of knowledge. - -I had figgered that when the aforesaid auspicious occasion turned up -I'd clean out to the woods until things got so I'd be useful as well as -ornamental; but when it come to a show-down, I couldn't. Farthest away I -could git was the front porch. I done my good twenty miles on the porch -that day, I'll bet, and whenever I've had a trial and tribulation time -since then, I can hear the sixth board from the south end of that porch -squeak. - -I was walkin' on the level, but my spirits was climbin' hills and -coastin' into valleys. First minute I would be stickin' out my chest -and thinkin' how all-fired grand it would be to be a daddy, and the next -minute I'd cave in like a frost-bitten squash and wonder how in -creation I'd ever drag along as a widow-man. One minute I'd see myself -sky-hootin' round with a fine kid on my arm, and the next I'd see myself -alone, with Marthy gone. I've got the reputation around here of being a -humorist man, but I didn't say no funny sayings to myself that day, that -I can remember. I had fever, and cold sweats, and double contraction -of the heart, and whenever I thought of Marthy, I couldn't think of a -decent thing that I'd ever done to her. I felt I was an ornery, lowdown -critter--which I ain't--and I saw Marthy as a spotless angel--which -she ain't neither. She's woman and earthly all through, and mighty good -earth at that. Marthy never knew what a good chance she lost of being -considered a perfectionated saint, but she missed the chance. - -Just about when I'd given up all hopes of ever seein' Marthy alive -again, Mrs. Murphy, (who we'd got in to sort of give the kid its first -toilet, it not being expected to be far enough advanced to do much -primping on its own account right at first) come to the door like a -blessed ray of sunshine, and percolated out a smile at me. - -Loony as I was, I had sense enough left to know that she wasn't smilin' -at me for flirtation, nor because she had a smile that she didn't know -what to do with and so was passing it out to me, like a hand-out, just -to git rid of it. I connected that smile with other things. I knowed she -was smiling me back from a desolate widow-hood, or widow-man-hood, or -whatever the right word is. I know the right word, but it's got mislaid. -Thank the stars I ain't ever had no use for it, and I hope never to -have. But I guess every man feels like I did when I was walkin' that -porch. When they shut the door on him, and turn him out, and tell him -they will call him when they want him, he's a widow-man right from that -moment and feels so. And when they call him in and say all's doin' as -well as could be expected under the circumstances, right then he feels -like his wife had rose from the dead, and he becomes a married man -again. I felt so, anyhow, and I don't know as I'm a specially fancy -feeler. I don't look it. - -Right then I was boosted, like I tell you, from a deep black hole to a -high and airy location, and by a plain-faced, baggy Irish lady that did -washing by the day at fifty cents a day, and you furnished the soap. -She's been my friend ever since, and always will be. - -As I passed in, feelin' more like war-whoopin' than like walkin' soft, -she whispered three words at me that finished me up. - -"It's a girl," says she. "Walk light, and stay where you are, and when -you can come in and see the girl, I'll bring her out and show her to -you." - -I was clean idiotic with satisfaction. I sat down on the edge of a chair -and twirled my hat until I couldn't sit still, and then got up and edged -round the room lookin' at the pictures on the wall, for all the world -like I was a visitor. I'd got half-way through lookin' at the things -on the what-not, and was castin' my eye round for the photygraft album, -when Mrs. Murphy stuck her blessed face into the parlor. - -"'Sh-h!" says she, "make no noise, and control your feelin's, and you -can come in for a quarter of a second and see your daughter." - -I was so proud I had cold chills, and I walked like a clothes-horse on -castors. - -I looked for Marthy first, and I see she was a-sleepin' beautiful, and -then Mrs. Murphy pulled down the covers and showed me Edith L. - -[Illustration: Edith L. 66] - -I took her all in at a glance, and I formed my own opinion right there. -I was like a rubber balloon when you stick a pin in it, but I didn't -collapse with a bang, I just caved in gradual. I went out of the room, -and out of the house, and sat down on the porch-step and blubbered. They -never missed me. - -When I think back on that day it makes me laugh, but I was sure a rank -amateur in the baby business, and I didn't know no better then. Right -now I'd put up every cent I've got that you couldn't find a finer girl -in the state than what Edith L. is, and I've learned since that she was -what you might call an A-1 baby right from the start, but it didn't look -that way to me. She was the first of that age I'd ever been introduced -to, and she looked different than what I'd fig-gered on. I'd seen plenty -of brand new colts, and they run largely to legs, but you'd know them -for horse-critters right off; and I 've seen brand-new puppies, and -their eyes ain't open, but you'd know them immediate for dogs; but that -kid didn't look any more like what I'd calculated Edith L. would look -like, than a cucumber looks like a water-melon. My heart was plumb -broke. I was scairt when I thought what would happen to Marthy when she -saw that wrinkled, red little thing. - -I knew we'd have to keep it, but I didn't see how we could bear the -shame. I made up my mind in a minute that we'd sell off the place and -move up into the mountains--just me and Marthy and the girl. I didn't -think of her as Edith L. any more. It wouldn't do to insult mother by -givin' her name to that baby. - -I figgered it all out how I'd act better to Marthy than ever, to make up -for the trial that girl would be, and how I'd do all in man's power to -keep the girl from knowin' how handicapped she was by her looks. - -Just then Brink Tuomy passed by, and he says: - -"How's things comin' along?" - -The boys had all been mighty interested in this baby business, and I -knew he'd trot off and tell them, so I says, sad enough: - -"It's a girl." - -Brink seen I wasn't very jubilant, so he says: - -"You don't seem very stuck up about it. But girls ain't so bad--when you -git used to them. Lady all right?" - -"Yes," I says, "she's O. K." - -Brink hung round a minute or two, waitin' for further orders, and none -comin', he says, hesitatin': - -"So long!" - -I let him go and was glad he went. - -I looked out across the river, and calculated how I could fix it so Mrs. -Murphy wouldn't say nothin' outside about that poor kid of mine, and how -to keep the kid hid until me and Marthy could take her and skin out for -the mountains. - -Mrs. Murphy was a terrible chatty lady--sort of perpetual phonygraft, -and wholesale and retail news agency. I guessed the best I could do was -to lock her in the cellar and then herd all comers away from the house. - -Doc Wolfert didn't bother me any. I knowed _he_ wouldn't give me away. - -If anybody could so much as git him to admit that there was a baby born -at my house they would be lucky. Just as a sample of what Doc was like, -take the case of Sandy Sam, who fell down the mine shaft and was brought -up in the bucket, as dead as Adam. Doc was on the ground as soon as -they brought Sandy up, and one of the boys that come late asked Doc what -caused the crowd to congregate. - -"Well," says Doc, lookin' off at an angle into the air, "it looks like -Sandy Sam, or some other feller, fell down the mine shaft." - -"Poor old Sam," says the feller, "killed him, didn't it?" - -Doc looked at the sky and considered. - -"It's a remarkable deep shaft," he says at last; "remarkable deep." -"Thunder!" says the feller. "I know it's a deep shaft. What I asked you -is if Sam's dead. Is he?" - -Doc went off into a dream, and when he come to, he looks at the feller. - -"Oh!" he says, absent like. "Is Sam dead? Perhaps! Perhaps he is. -I shouldn't like to say. But," he ended up, sort of pullin' hisself -together at the finish, "I wouldn't like to express an opinion, but I -guess the boys think he is. They are goin' to bury him." - -So I wasn't afraid of Doc Wolfert blabbin'. I knowed the worst, and, -like everybody else, I wanted somebody to tell me it wasn't so bad as I -thought. - -I nailed Doc as he come out. I backed him up against a porch pillar and -conversed with him right there. I wanted to know just how bad it was. I -wanted to know what hope there was, if any. - -"Doc," I said--and I was blessed glad I had a beard so he couldn't see -the quivers in my chin--"she's terrible undersized, ain't she?" - -"Hum!" says Doc. "You might call her small or you mightn't. I've seen -'em bigger, and I 've seen 'em smaller. I've seen 'em all sizes." - -I couldn't see much help in that. "Doc," I said, tremblin', "she won't -always be so--so dwarfed like, will she? She'll grow--some?" - -"Probably," says Doc. "I'd hate to say she wouldn't." - -I groaned. I had to. - -"Ain't her head a little off shape, Doc?" I stammered out. I guess the -shape of the head had worried me most of all. It wasn't just what I'd -known good heads to be. - -"You think so?" asked Doc, absent like. - -"Don't you?" I went back at him. - -"Tell me straight. I can stand the worst." - -"Hum!" he says. "Heads differ. I've got to go--" - -"No you don't!" I says, backing him up against the post; "not till -you tell me. Her legs, now. Think they will ever straighten out? Think -she'll ever git over that red, scalded look? Think she'll ever be able -to talk, Doc?" - -Doc looked anxious toward the road. - -"Don't worry," he says. "Don't fret. Keep cool and ca'm." - -"Yes," I says, scornful like. "Me keep cool! Don't you know I'm that -poor little, bent-up kid's daddy? Don't you know I looked forward -to callin' her Edith L.? Don't you know--? Doc," I says, strong and -forcible, "money ain't no object in a case like this. Tell me this: -Shall I git a specialist? Would it do any good to send to Denver and -git a specialist, or Chicago, or New York?" Doc looked interested at the -horizon. - -"Why, no," he says, "no! I don't see that it would." - -I'll bet that that was the first time Doc ever said "No" straight out. -It settled me. I let go of his arm and sat right down. If Doc Wolfert -spoke up and said "No" I knew there wasn't nothing to be done. - -I sat there probably about a thousand years, if you count by feelin's. -I had a wish to go in and see the kid, and then, again, I hated to. -I hated for Mrs. Murphy to look at me; I felt I'd blubber, and I was -ashamed; but I knew I'd ought to be there to take Marthy's hand when she -woke up, and to lie to her about it not bein' so bad as she would think. - -That made me pull myself together. I made up my mind that I'd be a man, -anyway. I had Marthy to think of, and a man ain't made to be blubberin' -around when his women need help. I swallowed down the chunk of my neck -that had got stuck in my throat, and swiped my eyes, and stood on my -legs. When I turned, Mrs. Murphy was in the door. - -"Well," she says, "you don't take much interest, I must say. Here you -sit enjoyin' the landscape, and your daughter askin' where her father -has gone to, and is she an orphan or what. Come in," she says, "or -she'll be comin' out." - -I walked in. - -I stopped a bit by the bedroom door to git up my courage, and then I -walked into the room. - -Marthy had her eyes open, and they looked up at me with a smile in them, -and then looked down again at the bunch on her arm under the quilt. - -"Come and see her," she says, feeble but proud. "Come and see your -daughter, Edith L." - -She slid down the covers so I could see her, and I looked at that kid -with a sick grin. - -"Ain't she lovely?" she says. - -"Sure!" I says, lying bravely. - -"Don't talk," says Mrs. Murphy, speakin' to Marthy, "or the session is -ended." - -"Just one word," I says. "Marthy, are you satisfied with her--with the -kid?" - -"She's perfect!" she says, "perfect and lovely." - -"All right," I says, "then I don't mind." - -Marthy smiled, sort of weak. - -"You will joke," she says. - -"Joke!" says Mrs. Murphy, indignant; "insult, I call it. Did you ever -see a finer baby?" - -I looked to see if she winked. She didn't. - -"How so?" I asked, my voice all of a tremble. - -"How so?" she asks; "No 'how so' at all. She weighs ten pounds, and -she's sound in wind and limb," she says, "and look at the grand shape -of her head! She'll be a college professoress at least, or maybe in -Congress before her pa. It's a grand baby she is!" - -"Ten pounds!" I says; "ain't that some dwarfish?" - -"Hear the man!" she says. "I don't believe he knows a fine baby when he -sees one." - -"Do you mean that, Mrs. Murphy?" I asked, every bit of blood in me goin' -on the jump. - -"Mean it?" she says; "I've had six of my own, and not one of them could -hold a candle to this one." - -"Marthy!" I says. "Is it so?" - -"Mrs. Murphy has fine children," she says; "but my little girl, I think, -is finer." - -[Illustration: Mrs. Murphy's Children 86] - -"How's her head?" I asked. "Perfect," she says. - -"And her color?" - -"So healthy," she says. - -"And her legs?" - -"So straight and strong," she says. I took hold of her hand and squeezed -it good, and then I went to the window and looked out, and I saw all the -boys lined up along the fence waitin' for me to come out and let them -know that what I'd told Brink Tuomy was so. - -Proud? I was so proud I felt like givin' Mrs. Murphy a million dollars. - -"Dang it!" I yelped. "Let her dad have another good look at Edith L." - - - - -III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK - - -NOW, you just take a good look this here right fist of mine. - -Looks like a ham, don't it? And see all them callouses on the palm. -Ain't that a tool fit to break rock with? And what'd you say if I told -you I used that once to hit that little, tender kid of mine? Actually -hit her! What you say to that? I won't forgit that night soon, I tell -you! - -Just figger to yourself that it's sundown, and the blinds pulled down in -the room where Deedee's cot was standin' like a little iron-barred -cage. We got into the way of callin' the kid Deedee, that bein' what she -called herself. There was all the signs that Deedee was goin' to sleep, -and the plainest sign was Deedee herself, standin' up in her crib, wide -awake, holdin' on to the foot of the crib, trampin' the sheets into a -tangle of white underbrush, as you might say, and no more asleep -than you are. The way Deedee went to sleep was like the death of an -alligator--it was a long and strenuous affair. - -Marthy stood lookin' at Deedee with reproaches in her eyes. We had a -sort of tradition in the family that Deedee had to go to sleep quick -and quiet, without any nonsense. Every night, when Marthy put the little -white rascal in the crib, she had hopes that the tradition would come -true, and every night it didn't. The go-to-sleep hour was the time -Deedee seemed to pick out to have an hour of especial lively fun, and -for weeks she had been breakin' the laws, and walkin' all over the rules -with her pink feet. She did not see, comin' up over the horizon, and -gittin' nearer every day, the stern and horrid Spank! - -We had got together in a sort of family conclave and decided that Deedee -was about old enough to be punished by layin' on of hands. We decided -it one time when Deedee was out of the room, and we had been right stern -about it. We could be stern about Deedee when she wasn't in sight. When -she come smilin' and singin' along we generally had to quit bein' stern, -and kiss her. - -Deedee was twenty-two months old, and she was ninety-eight per cent, -pure sweetness. Some of the women in our end of town said her short, -curly hair was tow-colored, but it wasn't so--they was just envious of -us. And one and all said her eyes was like round little bits of blue -sky. It was clear enough that she had inherited her sweetness from -Marthy; and some said it was equal clear that the two per cent, of -unadulterated stubbornness come from me. I said so myself, but I didn't -believe it. - -Deedee was gittin' to be a regular person. She could tell what she -wanted, and once in a while we could understand what it was. It was full -time, everybody said, that her education had ought to begin. If she was -goin' to grow up into a fine, sincere woman like Marthy, she must have -the right kind of start. Just the night before the day of the Spank, -Marthy had begun to teach her her religious education. Standin' up -at Marthy's knee--for Deedee would not kneel to God or man--she had -repeated:-- - - "Nowee-laimee-downee-seep, - Padee-O-so-tee." - -Anybody had ought to know that was:-- - - "Now I lay me down to sleep, - I pray the Lord my soul to keep." - -It was a fine success for a first start, only she didn't do what she -said she was goin' to do and "lay me down to sleep." Instead of that she -stood up in her crib for about an hour, callin' for "Mamie," the meanin' -of which was that she wanted to be rocked and have Marthy sing "Mary had -a little lamb," to her. - -The day of the Spank had a bad openin'. When Deedee woke up, along -about five o'clock a.m., it was rainin' pitchforks, and that meant a -day indoors, and to start off, she stood up in her crib and called for -"laim." - -Marthy woke up sort of realizin' that Deedee was repeatin' that word -slow, but regular, and she sat up and thought. "Laim" was a new word, -and the meanin' of it was unknown, but, whatever it was, Deedee wanted -it. She wanted it bad. Nothin' but "laim" would satisfy her. - -Marthy studied that word good and hard. It did not seem to suggest -anything to eat or drink, and, as near as Marthy could make out, it -didn't rightly apply to any toy, game, song, person, or anything else. -Marthy woke me up, and I sat up with a sigh. Deedee looked at me as if -she thought she would git what she wanted now, sure. - -"Laim, Deedee?" I asked, and she smiled as sweet as you please. - -"Papa, laim!" she says again. "Laim!" I says, thoughtful, lookin' around -the room and up at the ceilin'. I screwed up my forehead and studied, -and twisted my neck to look into the next room. "Laim! What's a 'laim,' -anyhow?" - -"I give it up," I says, after I'd thought of everything in the world, -pretty near. "Mebby her grandpa would know. Mebby it's something he -taught her." - -We lifted Deedee out of her crib, and set her down on the floor, and -she pattered down the hall. We could hear her tellin' him to give her -"laim," and the puzzled way he answered her back. - -"Laim, birdy? What is it? Say it again, Deedee. Laim? Grand-daddy don't -know what you want, Deedee." - -Neither did Uncle Ed, who was stayin' with us about then. Nobody knew -what "laim" was but Deedee, and she wanted it the worst way. She come -back, and stood by Marthy's bed, and just begged for it. - -It was a hard day for Marthy. It was Monday, and wash-day, so Deedee -couldn't bother Katie in the kitchen, and it was rainin' too. Deedee -just wandered through the house, like she had lost her last friend, and -then she would come back to Marthy and ask for "laim." She wouldn't have -nothing to do with her toys, and she wouldn't sew with a pin, and -she wouldn't sit at the table and write, and she wouldn't look at the -photygraft book. And the worst of it was that she wouldn't keep still a -minute. - -[Illustration: She wouldn't keep still a minute 100] - -By noon-time Marthy had a headache. By sundown she had "nerves," and -about then she began to look at Deedee with a sort of reproachful look. -Deedee had said that unknown word about ten thousand times. Marthy put -Deedee to bed in her crib, and I read once how Wellington, at Waterloo, -in the big fight they had there, prayed for night or Bluecher, and that -was about how Marthy longed for the sandman or me to come. I was the -one that come, at last. I come in the house wet to the skin, and plumb -disgusted; my pants stickin' to my legs and all over mud, and I chucked -my soakin' hat and my umbrelly into a corner, the way a tired-out man -will, and just dropped into a chair, tuckered out. I let out one good, -long sigh of thanks that I was at the end of a hard day. - -"Hiram!" comes Marthy's voice; "Come in here, and see if you can do -anything with Edith. I have worked with her all day, and I'm played out; -I'm utter tired." - -"Oh, plague!" I says. I sat a minute, drummin' on the arm of my chair, -and then I got upon my feet, and walked into the bedroom. - -"What's the matter?" I says, as near cross as I calculate I ever git, -and Marthy's eyes filled up. - -"I _can't_ do anything with her," she says. "She _won't_ go to sleep. -She has been dreadful all day. I don't feel like I could stand it -another minute." Marthy threw herself on the bed and covered up her face -with her hands. She was cryin'. - -I guess I frowned. - -Deedee looked up at me as sweet as a little angel. - -"Papa, laim," she says. - -"No!" says I, "No laim, Deedee. You lie down and go to sleep like a good -girl. Papa'll fix your pillow nice." - -I pounded up her pillow, and turned it over, and pulled the sheets out -straight. Then I took the baby and laid her down gentle. She smiled and -cuddled into the pillow. - -"Oh, what a nice bed!" I says. "Ain't it a nice bed, Deedee?" - -"Nice bed," she allowed. - -"Will I cover your feet?" I says. - -"Feet cov," she _says_, eager. - -So I spread the sheet up over her feet. - -"Shut little eyes," I says in warning, but as gentle as you please, and -she shut up her eyes so tight her eyelids wrinkled. - -"Now, good night, Deedee," I says. - -"'Night, pa--pa!" she coos. - -I stole out of the room as quiet as I knowed how, and dropped cautious -into my chair. I leaned back and smiled sort of grim. "That shows," I -thinks, "that women ain't got the right kind of tact to handle a kid, or -else they 've got catchin' nerves. It shows how easy a man can--" - -"Papa, laim!" - -Deedee's clear little voice just cut what I was thinkin' into two -pieces. I was into that bedroom in about two steps. Deedee was standin' -up in her crib. - -"Papa, laim?" she says, sort of anxious. - -"No!" I says, stern in earnest. "No laim!" - -"Papa, laim!" she demands. - -"No!" I says, in a way that froze her smile right where it was. She -looked up at me doubtful-like, her little pink and white chin puckered -up all ready to cry. - -"Papa, laim, laim!" she pleaded. - -I reached over and forced her right back on to her pillow. - -"Deedee!" I says, in a voice that was new and that she wasn't acquainted -with; "go to sleep! Be quiet! Stop this instant, or I _will_ SPANK you!" - -I guess, mebby, the angels kept on singin' as joyful as ever up in -Heaven. I guess, mebby, somewhere out west further, the sun was shinin' -down gay on noddin', careless flowers. Mebby, even in the next block, -some good baby was bein' snuggled up in its ma's arms; but to Deedee, -lyin' in the corner of her crib, the world had got a million years -older in about a minute. Her world that had been all smiles and pleasant -things had turned into a world of hard words and cruel faces. Her mama -dear had on a mask of unfeelin' coldness. Her papa dear stood up there -towerin' above her, a sort of giant of wrath, flourishin' an awful, -mysterious weapon, the word "spank." - -It looked like everybody had gone back on her. Her friends--which was -me and Marthy, her playmates--which was me and Marthy, her lovers--which -was me and Marthy, the providers of her joy--which was me and Marthy, -had turned into avengers. She was all alone in a world of clubs. Just -one wee kid and everybody against her. - -She lay there a minute palpitatin', with her chin tremblin' piteous. -What was to be did when her parents vanished, and these strange, harsh -people took their places? - -She crep' to the foot of the crib, where I was still standin', and she -got up and took hold of my arm and hugged it. - -"Pa-pa!" she says, loving. - -I pushed her back on the pillow again, gentle but firm. - -"Edith," I says in the hard voice she wasn't acquainted with; "Lie down -and go to sleep. I don't want to have no more of this. Go to sleep!" I -heard the dinner bell tinkle from the dinin'-room, and I helped Marthy -to git up, and we went out, and left Deedee alone in the dark. - -I ate the first part of my dinner without sayin' anything. It wasn't -exactly easy to be lively under them circumstances. Even Uncle Ned -didn't say nothin', and grand-daddy didn't feel called on to start a -conversation. It got so we was so quiet it hurt. Uncle Ed made bold to -speak. - -"When I was a kid," he says, lightly, "I used to git spanked with a -six-inch plank." - -"Edward!" says Marthy. "How can you say such a thing?" - -"It done me good," he says. "You can't begin too young. We 've all got -the devil in us, and the only way to git it out is to pound it out." - -Marthy laid down her fork, and her lips trembled. - -"Cut that out, Ed," I says. "Marthy has the nerves to-night; the subject -ain't popular." - -"I think she's goin' to be good now," says grand-daddy, who always stuck -up for the kid bein' the best that ever lived. "She seems quiet enough. -She must have gone off to sleep." - -"I sure do hope so," says Marthy. "I never had such a day with her." -"Mama, laim!" came the little voice from the bedroom, of a sudden. - -"I met Tuomy to-day," I says, "and he--" - -"Mama, laim! Mama, laim!" called Deedee. - -"He asked to be remembered to you," I says. "He was with May Wilson--" - -From the bedroom come a low, maddenin' wail:-- - -"Mama, laim! Papa, laim!" - -It kept gittin' louder. It got to be a regular cry, punctuated off here -and there with calls for "laim." - -Marthy looked at me, hopeless. I seen the look and looked down at my -plate. - -"I'll spank her when I'm done my dinner," I says. "There's no other -way." - -We didn't say much durin' the rest of that meal. It was a very solemn -feast. We was all thinkin' of Deedee. There wasn't no doubt that the -time had come we had been afraid of. The punishment and the crime was -properly fitted to each other. - -Now, or never, was the time to spank; but we was a ridiculous -tender-hearted family, and, as the dinner went on, the spankin' -of Deedee loomed up bigger than Pike's Peak. It piled up huge and -record-breakin' above the tea-pots and the puddin's, and looked about as -important as the end of the world, or a big war. - -When we got up it was like the condemned goin' to the execution, and we -marched into the front room like a jury, bringin' in the death verdict, -files into the court room. - -Deedee still cried for "laim." - -We four sat down, and looked at the carpet, as gloomy as a funeral. -I opened my mouth, swallowed hard two times, and shut it again. Uncle -Edward tapped on the carpet with his toe, grand-daddy looked at one of -the spots on the same carpet like it was a personal insult to him, and -Marthy smoothed out one of the roses on it with her heel. We wasn't half -so interested in that carpet when we bought it as we looked to be that -very minute. - -"Well?" says Marthy, at last. I kept my eye away from hers. I looked out -of the window. Next I got up and stood by the window and stuck my hands -deep down into my pants pockets. - -"If you 're goin' to--" says Marthy. "If you ain't--" - -Deedee was gittin' too bad to stand. It looked as if the neighbors would -be comin' in to complain, next thing. - -I turned around and walked slow toward the bedroom. The three other -grown-ups sat like stone statures. As I pushed aside the curtains, -Marthy jumped across the room and grabbed me by the arm. - -"Hiram!" she cried eager, "You won't be too severe? You won't git mad -and hurt her?" - -"Marthy," I says, "if you want to spank her, do so. If you want me to -spank her, don't you mix in." I shook her hand off of me, and she went -back to her chair cryin'. - -Well, I went into that bedroom. Deedee left off cryin' when she seen me, -and in the dim light I could see her standin' in the crib. I stuck out -my hand to take her, and she hung on to it. - -"Papa, laim!" she begged. - -"Edith," I says, hoarse in my throat, "you 've been naughty. Papa told -you to go to sleep, and mama told you to go to sleep. When we tell you -to go to sleep, you've got to go to sleep. Now, this is the last time -I'm goin' to tell you. Will you lie down and go to sleep?" - -"Papa, laim!" she says, impatient. - -I set my mouth and lifted her up and laid her on the bed on her face and -held her there. She struggled and yelled. - -"Be quiet!" I says, "be quiet, or I will spank you!" - -She gave one long, lingerin' cry for "laim." - -I took a long breath, and lifted up my hand, and--and--I ain't a-goin' -to tell about that. Let's go into the other room. - -There set the three other grownups, holdin' their hands over their ears, -with pained lookin' faces. Even at that they heard the sound of a dozen -short, sharp claps, and the sound of the quick cries, and then there was -a silent spell, only broke by the great big sobs of the little kid in -the next room,--sobs that sort of exploded their way out, shakin' the -little body till the crib rattled. - -[Illustration: The sobbin' got weaker and weaker 120] - -The sobbin' got weaker and weaker, and come further apart, and I stole -out of the bedroom, wipin' my face with my handkerchief. - -"I think she'll be a good girly now," says grand-daddy, gentle-like. - -That baby, shocked and surprised, laid on the pillow thinkin', as much -as a baby could think. Something cruel and unexpected had happened to -her. - -Me and Marthy had turned cruel. She didn't have no one to love up to. -She had been hurt. Her papa dear had hurt her, because she had cried for -"laim." - -"I hope she will," says Marthy in reply to grand-daddy, and that minute -from the bedroom, come Deedee's voice. - -"Papa!" it pleaded. - -I jumped up from my chair. Evidently that child needed-- - -"Papa, kiss!" says Deedee, soft and pleadin'. - -Well, I rather guess we all kissed her! We hugged her until she was -gaspin' for breath, and she smiled at us, and forgive us all, even while -the sobs come once in a while to interfere with her smilin'. - -"Ain't she a dear, _dear_ baby?" cried Marthy. "Poor little thing!" - -When we had loved her enough to spoil any good the spankin' had done, -Marthy drove us out. - -"Come, deary," she says to Deedee, "say your little prayers, mama -forgot." - -Deedee pressed up against her ma's knee, joyous. - -"Now I--" Marthy prompts her. - -"Nowee--" says Deedee. - -"Lay me--" says Marthy. - -"_Laim_," says Deedee, tickled as you please, and then wonderin' why the -whole lot of us shouts out "Laim!" of a sudden, and why we laugh, and -crowd 'round her, and kiss her, and kiss her! - -"Poor baby!" says Marthy. "To be spanked for wantin' to say her -prayers!" - -"By George!" says Uncle Edward. "Talk about your martyrs! She beats the -whole bunch!" - -And to think there was once a time when me and Marthy thought a kid was -more bother than it was worth! There ain't no child, nowhere, that ain't -worth more than everything else in the world all put together. No, sir! -A baby has got more human nature in it than a man has, even. You take -your big, rough hand to it, and you chastise it, so that it screams out, -and the next minute it takes time in between sobs to hug its soft little -arms around your neck, and kiss you. Ain't that the reallest kind of -human nature? Why, that's the kind that makes the world worth livin' in -at all. - -I don't seem to recollect ever hearin' that Heaven was set aside as a -sort of place where married folks could hang about by twos. Them that -has had experience knows that that would be a mighty poor kind of -heaven--one without children in it. It's the child kind of human nature -that sweetens up the world. The "give and take" kind--take your spankin' -when it comes, and give back love in return for it. - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY *** - -***** This file should be named 44148.txt or 44148.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/4/44148/ - -Produced by David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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-<title>
-The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler
-</title>
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-Project Gutenberg's The Confessions of a Daddy, by Ellis Parker Butler
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Confessions of a Daddy
-
-Author: Ellis Parker Butler
-
-Illustrator: Fanny Y. Cory
-
-Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44148]
-Last Updated: March 11, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-<div style="height: 8em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h1>
-THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY
-</h1>
-<h2>
-By Ellis Parker Butler
-</h2>
-<h3>
-With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory
-</h3>
-<h5>
-New York The Century Co. <br /> 1907
-</h5>
-<p>
-<br />
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="frontispiece" width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-<br />
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="titlepage" width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<h4>
-TO <br /> <br /> ELSIE McCOLM BUTLER A VERY GOOD CHILD THIS BOOK IS
-INSCRIBED BY HER FATHER
-</h4>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<p>
-<b>CONTENTS</b>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. WHEN SHE CAME </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK </a>
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<p>
-<b>List of Illustrations</b>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0001"> On the Floor With Her Stockings Not on Yet.
-</a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0002"> She Was Like a Butterfly in Amongs the
-Butterflies. </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0003"> The Two Children Run to the Gate. </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0004"> Edith L. </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0005"> Mrs. Murphy's Children </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0006"> She Wouldn't Keep Still a Minute </a>
-</p>
-<p class="toc">
-<a href="#linkimage-0007"> The Sobbin' Got Weaker and Weaker </a>
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-THE CONFESSIONS OF A DADDY
-</h2>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-I. OUR NEIGHBORS' BABIES
-</h2>
-<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> guess we folks that live up at our end of town think we are about as
-good as anybody in Colorado, and mebby a little better. We get along
-together as pleasant as you please, and we are a sort of colony, as you
-might say, all by ourselves.
-</p>
-<p>
-Me and Marthy make especial good neighbors. We don't have no fights with
-the other folks in our end of town, and in them days the neighbors hadn't
-any reason to fight with us, for we didn't keep a dog and we hadn't no
-children! I take notice that it is other folks dogs and children that make
-most of the bad feelin's between neighbors. Of course we had mosquitos,
-but Providence gives everybody something to practise up their patience,
-and when me and Marthy sat out on our porch and heard other people's
-children frettin' because the mosquitos was bad, we just sat there behind
-our screened porch and thanked our stars that we did n't have no children
-to leave our screen doors open.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was n't but right that me and Marthy should act accordingly. I don't
-mean that we were uppish about it, but we did feel that we could live a
-little better than our neighbors that had all the expense of children, and
-if our house was fixed up a little better, and we was able to go off three
-or four weeks in the summer to the mountains, when all the rest stayed
-right at home, we had a right to feel pleased about it. Lots of times we
-had things our neighbors could n't afford, and then the little woman would
-say to me: “Hiram, you don't know how thankful I am that we ain't got any
-children,” and I agreed with her every time, and did it hearty, too.
-</p>
-<p>
-'T was n't that we hated children. Far from it. We just thought that when
-we saw all the extra worry and trouble and expense that other people's
-children brought about, we were right satisfied to live the way we had
-lived the five years since we was married—our neighbors still called
-us the “Bride and Groom.” Nor I can't say that we were happier than the
-other folks in our end of town, but we was more care-free. We lived more
-joyous, as you might say.
-</p>
-<p>
-One night when I come home from the store Marthy met me at the corner, and
-when I had tucked her arm under mine, I asked her what was the news. Bobby
-Jones had cut his finger bad; Stell Marks had took the measles; little Tot
-Hemingway had run off, and her ma had gone near crazy until the kid was
-found again; the Wallaces was n't goin' to take no vacation this year at
-all because Fred was to go off to school in the fall, and they could n't
-afford both. It was the usual lot of news of children bein' trouble and
-expense.
-</p>
-<p>
-I was feelin' fine, the next day bein' a holiday, and Marthy, with the
-slick way women has, sprung a favor on me just when she set the broiled
-steak on the table. Extry thick, and burnt brown—that's my favorite
-steak—and whenever I see it that way my mouth waters, and I look out
-for a favor to be asked.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Hiram,” she says, quite as if she was openin' up a usual bit of talk,
-“did you take notice of Mrs. Hemingway's silk dress last Sunday?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Why no, Marthy,” I says, “I didn't. Was it new?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“New!” she laughed. “The idee! That's just what it wasn't. I believe she
-has had that same silk ever since we have lived in this end of town, and
-no one knows how much longer. It's a shame. She puts every cent she can
-dig up on those children of hers, and has hardly a decent thing of her
-own. I feel right sorry for her.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I feel sorry for Hemingway,” says I. “The old boy is workin' himself to
-death. He never gits home until supper is all over, and he told me just
-now that he felt it his bounden duty to work to-morrow. I tell you,
-Marthy, children is an expensive luxury!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“That's just what they are,” she agreed. “If it wasn't for their children,
-the Hemingways could live every bit as good as we do, and he wouldn't have
-to work of nights, poor fellow. But, Hiram,” she says, as if the idee had
-just hit her, “do you recall to mind when this end of town has seen a new
-silk dress?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Why, no—no,” I said; “when was it?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Years ago!” says the little woman. “I was figgerin' it up to-day, and it
-was full two years ago. Ain't it awful?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Downright scandalous!” I says. “And just on account of those children,
-too!”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy looked down at her plate, innocent as you please.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I'm glad we ain't got any children, Hiram,” she says, full of mischief.
-</p>
-<p>
-That tickled me. I was tickled to see how she was tickled to think she had
-trapped me.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I guess it's our bounden duty to hold up the honor of our end of town by
-showin' it a new silk dress,” I says, and the next thing I knew I was
-fightin' to keep her from chokin' me to death.
-</p>
-<p>
-All that evening Marthy was unusual quiet and right happy, too. As she sat
-on the porch her eyes would wander off over-the-hills-and-far-away, and I
-knew she was lost in joyous tanglements of bias and gores and plaits,
-where a man can't foller if he wants to. But when we went inside and had
-the blinds pulled down she put her arms around my neck again and gave me
-another choke.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Dear, dear old Hiram!” she says, and her eyes was tear-wet. “Just think!
-A new silk dress!” And just then there came into the room the noise of the
-Marks child—the one with the measles—whimpering.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't you glad,” says the little woman, “that we haven't any children to
-spoil all our fun, and bother us?” and when I looked down into that happy
-little face of hers, I was glad, and no mistake.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next day was a beauty. It came in like a glory, and we was up almost
-as soon as the sun was; for we had figgered on one of our regular old-time
-jolly days by ourselves on the hills—one of the kind that made our
-end of town call us the “Bride and Groom.” It was our plan to take a good
-lunch, and just wander. Marthy was to take a book, and I was to take my
-fishin' tackle, and beyond that was whatever happy thing that turned up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“If we had children,” she said, “we couldn't go off on these long tramps
-by ourselves.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We got away while the neighbors in our end of town were still at
-breakfast, and as we passed the Wallace's place we ran up to holler
-good-by through the window at them, and there was the youngest Wallace
-foolin' on the floor with her stockings not on yet, and breakfast half
-over. Marthy stopped long enough to have a good, long look at the child.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/036.jpg"
- alt="On the Floor With Her Stockings Not on Yet. 036 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-“If all the children was like Daisy Wallace,” she says, “they wouldn't be
-so bad. She is the dearest thing I ever did see. She's got the cutest way
-of kissin' a person on the eyelids.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“She looks to be just as lazy in the dressin' act as the rest,” I
-remarked, and I was surprised, the way Marthy turned on me.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Why, Hiram Smith!” she cried; “didn't <i>you</i> ever dawdle over your
-dressin'? When I was a girl I got lots of fun out of being late to
-breakfast. What difference does it make, anyway, when she is perfectly
-lovely all the rest of the time? I simply love that child. I wonder,” she
-said, sort of wistful, “if they would let us take her with us to-day. She
-would enjoy it so.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Foolishness,” I said. “We don't want to pull a kid along with us all day;
-and anyhow, they are going to take her to the photographer's to-day to
-have her picture took.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We went out around town, and up the hill road. The morning air was great,
-and nobody on the road at all, so far as we could see, and we stepped out
-brisk and lively.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Seems good to git away from the baby district, don't it?” I says, as we
-was walkin' up the road. “We 're like Mister and Missus Robinson Crusoe,”
- and at the very next turn we most fell over Bobby Jones and his
-everlastin' chum, Rex, which is the most no-account dog on earth.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Where y' goin'?” he asks.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nowheres particular,” says Marthy. “Just walkin' out to git the air.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“So'm I,” says he, and then he says, sort of bluffin', “I ain't lost.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Yes you are, Bobby,” I says, severe as I could, “and if you know what's
-good for a kid about your size you'd better turn right 'round and scoot
-for home.”
- </p>
-<p>
-He looked at me as if he would like to know who I was, to be bossin' him.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ho!” he says, “You ain't my pa. I don't have to do what you say! I won't
-go home for you!”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy was bendin' over him in a second.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Bobby,” she says, coaxing-like, “do you know what your folks is going to
-have for dinner?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“No'm,” he says, as polite as you please.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I do,” says the little woman. “Ice cream. And if you git lost you won't
-git home in time to git any.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Bobby looked up the road where he hadn't explored yet, and then looked
-back the way he'd come, and then he smiled at Marthy and took off his cap
-to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Thank you, Missus Smith,” he says.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy laughed as happy as a girl, and kissed him right on his dusty face.
-She put her arms around him, even, and acted like she had never seen a
-freckled boy before.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nice boy,” I remarked, when Bobby had gone down the road toward town.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nice!” says the little woman. “Nice! Is that all you can scrape up to
-say? Why, there ain't a dearer child in our end of town than what Bobby
-is. He's my sweetheart when you ain't at home. Hiram,” she says, looking
-back at him as he paddled along kicking up the dust with his bare toes, “I
-wonder if we dare take him with us?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“What about his ice-cream?” I says. “What about having a kid dragging
-after us all day?” So we went on, but I seen she felt a little mite
-lonely-like, as you might say. Which was queer.
-</p>
-<p>
-By ten o'clock we had got far enough from town, and we pushed through a
-field that was all covered with flowers, and over to where the brook was,
-with the tangle of trees and brush hiding it, and when I pushed apart the
-brush to go through, I stopped and motioned for Marthy to come quiet and
-look.
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="frontispiece" width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-There, sittin' on a tree trunk, as quiet as you please, was Teddy
-Lawrence, with his eyes glued on to his bobber, and thinkin' of nothing in
-the world but fish. I'm a right hearty fisher myself, and it done my heart
-good to see the strictly-business way that kid had. Marthy moved a little,
-and I put my hand on her to make her keep still.
-</p>
-<p>
-The boy lifted up his pole and looked at the bait like a regular old hand.
-He dug a fresh, fat worm out of his can, and fixed it, and then I fairly
-held my breath. Would he do it? No! But, hold on—yes! He leaned over
-and spit on the bait to bring luck, just as natural as life! Say, wasn't
-that real boy for you? I let the brush come together real quiet, and me
-and Marthy slipped away.
-</p>
-<p>
-Well, sir, my five-dollar pole and my two-dollar reel, made me feel sick.
-</p>
-<p>
-What did I know about fishing, anyhow? I felt right there what was the
-truth, that all my fishing amounted to was, that I was tryin' to bring
-back the joys I used to have when I was a kid, settin' on a log, happy and
-lonesome, watchin' my bottle-cork joggle on the ripples. What was the use?
-A feller can't go back to them days. There ain't nothing to do about it.
-Unless, of course, he can sort of go forward to them in—well, a
-feller could sort of live them days over agin in a boy of his own.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Wallace don't deserve that boy,” I says, sort of mad about I don't know
-what. “What sort of a dad is that old book-worm of a Wallace for a boy
-that likes to fish like Ted does? I'll bet Wallace never had a fish pole
-in his hands since the day he was born. Now, if I had a boy like that I
-could show him a thing or two about fishing. If I had a boy like that—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Look there!” says Marthy, sudden. “Did you ever see anything sweeter than
-what that is?”
- </p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/046.jpg"
- alt="She Was Like a Butterfly in Amongs the Butterflies. 46 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-Over on the other end of the field Ted's sister was strayin' around in the
-flowers, her face all rosy with the fresh air. She was like a butterfly in
-amongst the butterflies, a mighty pretty girl, and just the age when a
-mother loves a girl best and when a mother takes the most care of 'em. I
-like pretty things as well as the next man does, and I'll say right here
-that there was something about that girl that made me feel like I'd like
-to own her—just like I feel about a real pretty rose, sort of covet
-to keep it just as it is forever, and take care that it don't git spoiled
-any way.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I guess Mrs. Wallace don't rightly appreciate May,” says Marthy,
-thoughtful-like. “I thinks she makes her study too much. When I was May's
-age I had plenty of chances to git the fresh air, and you'd never see me
-takin' up music-lessons in the summer. I spent my time feedin' the
-chickens and runnin' about the farm, and enjoyin' life. It ain't right,
-the way girls is forced in their studies nowadays. If I had a girl like
-that—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“If you had, what'd you do?” I asks, kindly enough, but the little woman
-only laughed. Mebby her laugh was a bit reckless, as you might say.
-</p>
-<p>
-“What's the use thinkin' what I'd do?” she says, turnin' round to go.
-There didn't seem to be nothing special for me to say right then, so I
-just put my arm around her, and we went on.
-</p>
-<p>
-We was plumb tired out when we got home, and mebby that is why we was more
-than usual quiet at dinner. I sure wasn't cross, but somehow our day
-hadn't panned out as satisfactory as we'd thought it would, and mebby the
-cryin' of the Wilkins' new baby got on my nerves, we being tired. I was
-glad when dinner was over and we could take our chairs and go out on the
-porch.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a fine night—still, and ca'm as you please. The only noise,
-not countin' the cryin' of the Wilkins' kid, was the sounds of the
-laughin' and chatter of the children in our end of town. But I was
-lonesome. I can't speak for the little woman, how she felt, but <i>I</i>
-felt lonesome—and her right there beside me, too.
-</p>
-<p>
-Across the street we could see the two Hemingway children, who had coaxed
-an extra half hour to wait for their father to come home before they went
-to bed. They had their heads bent over a tumbler that they had caught two
-fireflies in, and on the porch Mrs. Hemingway was rockin' the sleepy baby.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/054.jpg" alt="The Two Children Run to the Gate. 54 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-Then we heard Hemingway's whistle—he can't whistle, but he likes to—and
-the two children dropped the tumbler, and run to the gate, and then there
-was a rush, and a mingling up of Hemingway kids and father, and the sleepy
-baby slid down from its ma's lap and stood, unsteady but tryin' to git in
-the kissing, with its arms held out. Happy?
-</p>
-<p>
-I turned to the little woman, and I looked straight at her. Somehow I knew
-that now, if ever, was a time for me to do some cheering-up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well, little woman,” I says, cheerful-like, “<i>we</i> don't need a lot
-of kids to bolster up our love, do we?”
- </p>
-<p>
-She gave my hand a soft squeeze in reply.
-</p>
-<p>
-“And about that gown—that silk gown,” I says, gaily. “Have you
-decided what color it is to be yet?
-</p>
-<p>
-“Won't you be fine! When I think how fine you'll look, I'm glad we haven't
-no children to—”
- </p>
-<p>
-Just then them Hemingways went inside, and our whole end of town was
-quiet, and lonesome.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy didn't answer, and when I lifted up her face to kiss her, what
-d'you think? She was cryin'!
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-II. WHEN SHE CAME
-</h2>
-<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>fore the kid come, me and Marthy used to sit up nights tellin' each other
-how much we'd like it if she turned out to be a boy. I said everything
-that I knowed that was nice about boys, and drawed on my imagination for
-what I didn't know, and Marthy spoke the same; so I convinced Marthy,
-thorough, that I would be terrible disappointed if it wasn't a boy, and
-she didn't leave me no doubts about her hankerin' for a baby of the male
-sect.
-</p>
-<p>
-Course we was both tryin' to square ourselves in case it <i>should</i> be
-a boy. Come to find out, we was both of us tickled to death that it was a
-girl.
-</p>
-<p>
-We'd talked over boys' names by the bushel without ever coming to a
-dead-set choice, but we most always squeezed in somewhere, sort of
-apologetic, a remark that if it <i>should</i> happen to be a girl we'd
-have to call it Edith L., after its grandmother. Somehow, as I look back
-on it, it seems as if I'd never thought of that kid, at any time, except
-as Edith L. Curious how folks will try to fool theirselves that way.
-</p>
-<p>
-When it come to the auspicious occasion we had Doc Wolfert in, because he
-was the only doc in our end of town. He certainly was a quaint old
-bone-setter. Some said he took morphine on the sly, and some said it was
-just his natural manner, but he was the shiftiest-eyed medic you ever saw.
-No man livin' ever got him to say plain yes or no. He'd walk all 'round
-them little words, like he was afraid of steppin' on them, and his gab was
-full of perhapses and possiblys, and similar slick side-trackers of
-knowledge.
-</p>
-<p>
-I had figgered that when the aforesaid auspicious occasion turned up I'd
-clean out to the woods until things got so I'd be useful as well as
-ornamental; but when it come to a show-down, I couldn't. Farthest away I
-could git was the front porch. I done my good twenty miles on the porch
-that day, I'll bet, and whenever I've had a trial and tribulation time
-since then, I can hear the sixth board from the south end of that porch
-squeak.
-</p>
-<p>
-I was walkin' on the level, but my spirits was climbin' hills and coastin'
-into valleys. First minute I would be stickin' out my chest and thinkin'
-how all-fired grand it would be to be a daddy, and the next minute I'd
-cave in like a frost-bitten squash and wonder how in creation I'd ever
-drag along as a widow-man. One minute I'd see myself sky-hootin' round
-with a fine kid on my arm, and the next I'd see myself alone, with Marthy
-gone. I've got the reputation around here of being a humorist man, but I
-didn't say no funny sayings to myself that day, that I can remember. I had
-fever, and cold sweats, and double contraction of the heart, and whenever
-I thought of Marthy, I couldn't think of a decent thing that I'd ever done
-to her. I felt I was an ornery, lowdown critter—which I ain't—and
-I saw Marthy as a spotless angel—which she ain't neither. She's
-woman and earthly all through, and mighty good earth at that. Marthy never
-knew what a good chance she lost of being considered a perfectionated
-saint, but she missed the chance.
-</p>
-<p>
-Just about when I'd given up all hopes of ever seein' Marthy alive again,
-Mrs. Murphy, (who we'd got in to sort of give the kid its first toilet, it
-not being expected to be far enough advanced to do much primping on its
-own account right at first) come to the door like a blessed ray of
-sunshine, and percolated out a smile at me.
-</p>
-<p>
-Loony as I was, I had sense enough left to know that she wasn't smilin' at
-me for flirtation, nor because she had a smile that she didn't know what
-to do with and so was passing it out to me, like a hand-out, just to git
-rid of it. I connected that smile with other things. I knowed she was
-smiling me back from a desolate widow-hood, or widow-man-hood, or whatever
-the right word is. I know the right word, but it's got mislaid. Thank the
-stars I ain't ever had no use for it, and I hope never to have. But I
-guess every man feels like I did when I was walkin' that porch. When they
-shut the door on him, and turn him out, and tell him they will call him
-when they want him, he's a widow-man right from that moment and feels so.
-And when they call him in and say all's doin' as well as could be expected
-under the circumstances, right then he feels like his wife had rose from
-the dead, and he becomes a married man again. I felt so, anyhow, and I
-don't know as I'm a specially fancy feeler. I don't look it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Right then I was boosted, like I tell you, from a deep black hole to a
-high and airy location, and by a plain-faced, baggy Irish lady that did
-washing by the day at fifty cents a day, and you furnished the soap. She's
-been my friend ever since, and always will be.
-</p>
-<p>
-As I passed in, feelin' more like war-whoopin' than like walkin' soft, she
-whispered three words at me that finished me up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“It's a girl,” says she. “Walk light, and stay where you are, and when you
-can come in and see the girl, I'll bring her out and show her to you.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I was clean idiotic with satisfaction. I sat down on the edge of a chair
-and twirled my hat until I couldn't sit still, and then got up and edged
-round the room lookin' at the pictures on the wall, for all the world like
-I was a visitor. I'd got half-way through lookin' at the things on the
-what-not, and was castin' my eye round for the photygraft album, when Mrs.
-Murphy stuck her blessed face into the parlor.
-</p>
-<p>
-“'Sh-h!” says she, “make no noise, and control your feelin's, and you can
-come in for a quarter of a second and see your daughter.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I was so proud I had cold chills, and I walked like a clothes-horse on
-castors.
-</p>
-<p>
-I looked for Marthy first, and I see she was a-sleepin' beautiful, and
-then Mrs. Murphy pulled down the covers and showed me Edith L.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/066.jpg" alt="Edith L. 66 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-I took her all in at a glance, and I formed my own opinion right there. I
-was like a rubber balloon when you stick a pin in it, but I didn't
-collapse with a bang, I just caved in gradual. I went out of the room, and
-out of the house, and sat down on the porch-step and blubbered. They never
-missed me.
-</p>
-<p>
-When I think back on that day it makes me laugh, but I was sure a rank
-amateur in the baby business, and I didn't know no better then. Right now
-I'd put up every cent I've got that you couldn't find a finer girl in the
-state than what Edith L. is, and I've learned since that she was what you
-might call an A-1 baby right from the start, but it didn't look that way
-to me. She was the first of that age I'd ever been introduced to, and she
-looked different than what I'd fig-gered on. I'd seen plenty of brand new
-colts, and they run largely to legs, but you'd know them for
-horse-critters right off; and I 've seen brand-new puppies, and their eyes
-ain't open, but you'd know them immediate for dogs; but that kid didn't
-look any more like what I'd calculated Edith L. would look like, than a
-cucumber looks like a water-melon. My heart was plumb broke. I was scairt
-when I thought what would happen to Marthy when she saw that wrinkled, red
-little thing.
-</p>
-<p>
-I knew we'd have to keep it, but I didn't see how we could bear the shame.
-I made up my mind in a minute that we'd sell off the place and move up
-into the mountains—just me and Marthy and the girl. I didn't think
-of her as Edith L. any more. It wouldn't do to insult mother by givin' her
-name to that baby.
-</p>
-<p>
-I figgered it all out how I'd act better to Marthy than ever, to make up
-for the trial that girl would be, and how I'd do all in man's power to
-keep the girl from knowin' how handicapped she was by her looks.
-</p>
-<p>
-Just then Brink Tuomy passed by, and he says:
-</p>
-<p>
-“How's things comin' along?”
- </p>
-<p>
-The boys had all been mighty interested in this baby business, and I knew
-he'd trot off and tell them, so I says, sad enough:
-</p>
-<p>
-“It's a girl.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Brink seen I wasn't very jubilant, so he says:
-</p>
-<p>
-“You don't seem very stuck up about it. But girls ain't so bad—when
-you git used to them. Lady all right?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Yes,” I says, “she's O. K.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Brink hung round a minute or two, waitin' for further orders, and none
-comin', he says, hesitatin':
-</p>
-<p>
-“So long!”
- </p>
-<p>
-I let him go and was glad he went.
-</p>
-<p>
-I looked out across the river, and calculated how I could fix it so Mrs.
-Murphy wouldn't say nothin' outside about that poor kid of mine, and how
-to keep the kid hid until me and Marthy could take her and skin out for
-the mountains.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mrs. Murphy was a terrible chatty lady—sort of perpetual phonygraft,
-and wholesale and retail news agency. I guessed the best I could do was to
-lock her in the cellar and then herd all comers away from the house.
-</p>
-<p>
-Doc Wolfert didn't bother me any. I knowed <i>he</i> wouldn't give me
-away.
-</p>
-<p>
-If anybody could so much as git him to admit that there was a baby born at
-my house they would be lucky. Just as a sample of what Doc was like, take
-the case of Sandy Sam, who fell down the mine shaft and was brought up in
-the bucket, as dead as Adam. Doc was on the ground as soon as they brought
-Sandy up, and one of the boys that come late asked Doc what caused the
-crowd to congregate.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well,” says Doc, lookin' off at an angle into the air, “it looks like
-Sandy Sam, or some other feller, fell down the mine shaft.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Poor old Sam,” says the feller, “killed him, didn't it?”
- </p>
-<p>
-Doc looked at the sky and considered.
-</p>
-<p>
-“It's a remarkable deep shaft,” he says at last; “remarkable deep.”
- “Thunder!” says the feller. “I know it's a deep shaft. What I asked you is
-if Sam's dead. Is he?”
- </p>
-<p>
-Doc went off into a dream, and when he come to, he looks at the feller.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Oh!” he says, absent like. “Is Sam dead? Perhaps! Perhaps he is. I
-shouldn't like to say. But,” he ended up, sort of pullin' hisself together
-at the finish, “I wouldn't like to express an opinion, but I guess the
-boys think he is. They are goin' to bury him.”
- </p>
-<p>
-So I wasn't afraid of Doc Wolfert blabbin'. I knowed the worst, and, like
-everybody else, I wanted somebody to tell me it wasn't so bad as I
-thought.
-</p>
-<p>
-I nailed Doc as he come out. I backed him up against a porch pillar and
-conversed with him right there. I wanted to know just how bad it was. I
-wanted to know what hope there was, if any.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Doc,” I said—and I was blessed glad I had a beard so he couldn't
-see the quivers in my chin—“she's terrible undersized, ain't she?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Hum!” says Doc. “You might call her small or you mightn't. I've seen 'em
-bigger, and I 've seen 'em smaller. I've seen 'em all sizes.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I couldn't see much help in that. “Doc,” I said, tremblin', “she won't
-always be so—so dwarfed like, will she? She'll grow—some?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Probably,” says Doc. “I'd hate to say she wouldn't.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I groaned. I had to.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't her head a little off shape, Doc?” I stammered out. I guess the
-shape of the head had worried me most of all. It wasn't just what I'd
-known good heads to be.
-</p>
-<p>
-“You think so?” asked Doc, absent like.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Don't you?” I went back at him.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Tell me straight. I can stand the worst.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Hum!” he says. “Heads differ. I've got to go—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“No you don't!” I says, backing him up against the post; “not till you
-tell me. Her legs, now. Think they will ever straighten out? Think she'll
-ever git over that red, scalded look? Think she'll ever be able to talk,
-Doc?”
- </p>
-<p>
-Doc looked anxious toward the road.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Don't worry,” he says. “Don't fret. Keep cool and ca'm.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Yes,” I says, scornful like. “Me keep cool! Don't you know I'm that poor
-little, bent-up kid's daddy? Don't you know I looked forward to callin'
-her Edith L.? Don't you know—? Doc,” I says, strong and forcible,
-“money ain't no object in a case like this. Tell me this: Shall I git a
-specialist? Would it do any good to send to Denver and git a specialist,
-or Chicago, or New York?” Doc looked interested at the horizon.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Why, no,” he says, “no! I don't see that it would.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I'll bet that that was the first time Doc ever said “No” straight out. It
-settled me. I let go of his arm and sat right down. If Doc Wolfert spoke
-up and said “No” I knew there wasn't nothing to be done.
-</p>
-<p>
-I sat there probably about a thousand years, if you count by feelin's. I
-had a wish to go in and see the kid, and then, again, I hated to. I hated
-for Mrs. Murphy to look at me; I felt I'd blubber, and I was ashamed; but
-I knew I'd ought to be there to take Marthy's hand when she woke up, and
-to lie to her about it not bein' so bad as she would think.
-</p>
-<p>
-That made me pull myself together. I made up my mind that I'd be a man,
-anyway. I had Marthy to think of, and a man ain't made to be blubberin'
-around when his women need help. I swallowed down the chunk of my neck
-that had got stuck in my throat, and swiped my eyes, and stood on my legs.
-When I turned, Mrs. Murphy was in the door.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well,” she says, “you don't take much interest, I must say. Here you sit
-enjoyin' the landscape, and your daughter askin' where her father has gone
-to, and is she an orphan or what. Come in,” she says, “or she'll be comin'
-out.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I walked in.
-</p>
-<p>
-I stopped a bit by the bedroom door to git up my courage, and then I
-walked into the room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy had her eyes open, and they looked up at me with a smile in them,
-and then looked down again at the bunch on her arm under the quilt.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Come and see her,” she says, feeble but proud. “Come and see your
-daughter, Edith L.”
- </p>
-<p>
-She slid down the covers so I could see her, and I looked at that kid with
-a sick grin.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't she lovely?” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Sure!” I says, lying bravely.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Don't talk,” says Mrs. Murphy, speakin' to Marthy, “or the session is
-ended.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Just one word,” I says. “Marthy, are you satisfied with her—with
-the kid?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“She's perfect!” she says, “perfect and lovely.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“All right,” I says, “then I don't mind.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy smiled, sort of weak.
-</p>
-<p>
-“You will joke,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Joke!” says Mrs. Murphy, indignant; “insult, I call it. Did you ever see
-a finer baby?”
- </p>
-<p>
-I looked to see if she winked. She didn't.
-</p>
-<p>
-“How so?” I asked, my voice all of a tremble.
-</p>
-<p>
-“How so?” she asks; “No 'how so' at all. She weighs ten pounds, and she's
-sound in wind and limb,” she says, “and look at the grand shape of her
-head! She'll be a college professoress at least, or maybe in Congress
-before her pa. It's a grand baby she is!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Ten pounds!” I says; “ain't that some dwarfish?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Hear the man!” she says. “I don't believe he knows a fine baby when he
-sees one.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Do you mean that, Mrs. Murphy?” I asked, every bit of blood in me goin'
-on the jump.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Mean it?” she says; “I've had six of my own, and not one of them could
-hold a candle to this one.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Marthy!” I says. “Is it so?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Mrs. Murphy has fine children,” she says; “but my little girl, I think,
-is finer.”
- </p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/086.jpg" alt="Mrs. Murphy's Children 86 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-“How's her head?” I asked. “Perfect,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“And her color?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“So healthy,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“And her legs?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“So straight and strong,” she says. I took hold of her hand and squeezed
-it good, and then I went to the window and looked out, and I saw all the
-boys lined up along the fence waitin' for me to come out and let them know
-that what I'd told Brink Tuomy was so.
-</p>
-<p>
-Proud? I was so proud I felt like givin' Mrs. Murphy a million dollars.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Dang it!” I yelped. “Let her dad have another good look at Edith L.”
- </p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a>
-</p>
-<div style="height: 4em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-<h2>
-III. THE DAY OF THE SPANK
-</h2>
-<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>OW, you just take a good look this here right fist of mine.
-</p>
-<p>
-Looks like a ham, don't it? And see all them callouses on the palm. Ain't
-that a tool fit to break rock with? And what'd you say if I told you I
-used that once to hit that little, tender kid of mine? Actually hit her!
-What you say to that? I won't forgit that night soon, I tell you!
-</p>
-<p>
-Just figger to yourself that it's sundown, and the blinds pulled down in
-the room where Deedee's cot was standin' like a little iron-barred cage.
-We got into the way of callin' the kid Deedee, that bein' what she called
-herself. There was all the signs that Deedee was goin' to sleep, and the
-plainest sign was Deedee herself, standin' up in her crib, wide awake,
-holdin' on to the foot of the crib, trampin' the sheets into a tangle of
-white underbrush, as you might say, and no more asleep than you are. The
-way Deedee went to sleep was like the death of an alligator—it was a
-long and strenuous affair.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy stood lookin' at Deedee with reproaches in her eyes. We had a sort
-of tradition in the family that Deedee had to go to sleep quick and quiet,
-without any nonsense. Every night, when Marthy put the little white rascal
-in the crib, she had hopes that the tradition would come true, and every
-night it didn't. The go-to-sleep hour was the time Deedee seemed to pick
-out to have an hour of especial lively fun, and for weeks she had been
-breakin' the laws, and walkin' all over the rules with her pink feet. She
-did not see, comin' up over the horizon, and gittin' nearer every day, the
-stern and horrid Spank!
-</p>
-<p>
-We had got together in a sort of family conclave and decided that Deedee
-was about old enough to be punished by layin' on of hands. We decided it
-one time when Deedee was out of the room, and we had been right stern
-about it. We could be stern about Deedee when she wasn't in sight. When
-she come smilin' and singin' along we generally had to quit bein' stern,
-and kiss her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee was twenty-two months old, and she was ninety-eight per cent, pure
-sweetness. Some of the women in our end of town said her short, curly hair
-was tow-colored, but it wasn't so—they was just envious of us. And
-one and all said her eyes was like round little bits of blue sky. It was
-clear enough that she had inherited her sweetness from Marthy; and some
-said it was equal clear that the two per cent, of unadulterated
-stubbornness come from me. I said so myself, but I didn't believe it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee was gittin' to be a regular person. She could tell what she wanted,
-and once in a while we could understand what it was. It was full time,
-everybody said, that her education had ought to begin. If she was goin' to
-grow up into a fine, sincere woman like Marthy, she must have the right
-kind of start. Just the night before the day of the Spank, Marthy had
-begun to teach her her religious education. Standin' up at Marthy's knee—for
-Deedee would not kneel to God or man—she had repeated:—
-</p>
-<pre xml:space="preserve">
-“Nowee-laimee-downee-seep,
-Padee-O-so-tee.”
- </pre>
-<p>
-Anybody had ought to know that was:—
-</p>
-<pre xml:space="preserve">
-“Now I lay me down to sleep,
-I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”
- </pre>
-<p>
-It was a fine success for a first start, only she didn't do what she said
-she was goin' to do and “lay me down to sleep.” Instead of that she stood
-up in her crib for about an hour, callin' for “Mamie,” the meanin' of
-which was that she wanted to be rocked and have Marthy sing “Mary had a
-little lamb,” to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-The day of the Spank had a bad openin'. When Deedee woke up, along about
-five o'clock a.m., it was rainin' pitchforks, and that meant a day
-indoors, and to start off, she stood up in her crib and called for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy woke up sort of realizin' that Deedee was repeatin' that word slow,
-but regular, and she sat up and thought. “Laim” was a new word, and the
-meanin' of it was unknown, but, whatever it was, Deedee wanted it. She
-wanted it bad. Nothin' but “laim” would satisfy her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Marthy studied that word good and hard. It did not seem to suggest
-anything to eat or drink, and, as near as Marthy could make out, it didn't
-rightly apply to any toy, game, song, person, or anything else. Marthy
-woke me up, and I sat up with a sigh. Deedee looked at me as if she
-thought she would git what she wanted now, sure.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Laim, Deedee?” I asked, and she smiled as sweet as you please.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she says again. “Laim!” I says, thoughtful, lookin' around
-the room and up at the ceilin'. I screwed up my forehead and studied, and
-twisted my neck to look into the next room. “Laim! What's a 'laim,'
-anyhow?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I give it up,” I says, after I'd thought of everything in the world,
-pretty near. “Mebby her grandpa would know. Mebby it's something he taught
-her.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We lifted Deedee out of her crib, and set her down on the floor, and she
-pattered down the hall. We could hear her tellin' him to give her “laim,”
- and the puzzled way he answered her back.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Laim, birdy? What is it? Say it again, Deedee. Laim? Grand-daddy don't
-know what you want, Deedee.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Neither did Uncle Ed, who was stayin' with us about then. Nobody knew what
-“laim” was but Deedee, and she wanted it the worst way. She come back, and
-stood by Marthy's bed, and just begged for it.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a hard day for Marthy. It was Monday, and wash-day, so Deedee
-couldn't bother Katie in the kitchen, and it was rainin' too. Deedee just
-wandered through the house, like she had lost her last friend, and then
-she would come back to Marthy and ask for “laim.” She wouldn't have
-nothing to do with her toys, and she wouldn't sew with a pin, and she
-wouldn't sit at the table and write, and she wouldn't look at the
-photygraft book. And the worst of it was that she wouldn't keep still a
-minute.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/100.jpg" alt="She Wouldn't Keep Still a Minute 100 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-By noon-time Marthy had a headache. By sundown she had “nerves,” and about
-then she began to look at Deedee with a sort of reproachful look. Deedee
-had said that unknown word about ten thousand times. Marthy put Deedee to
-bed in her crib, and I read once how Wellington, at Waterloo, in the big
-fight they had there, prayed for night or Blücher, and that was about how
-Marthy longed for the sandman or me to come. I was the one that come, at
-last. I come in the house wet to the skin, and plumb disgusted; my pants
-stickin' to my legs and all over mud, and I chucked my soakin' hat and my
-umbrelly into a corner, the way a tired-out man will, and just dropped
-into a chair, tuckered out. I let out one good, long sigh of thanks that I
-was at the end of a hard day.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Hiram!” comes Marthy's voice; “Come in here, and see if you can do
-anything with Edith. I have worked with her all day, and I'm played out;
-I'm utter tired.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Oh, plague!” I says. I sat a minute, drummin' on the arm of my chair, and
-then I got upon my feet, and walked into the bedroom.
-</p>
-<p>
-“What's the matter?” I says, as near cross as I calculate I ever git, and
-Marthy's eyes filled up.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I <i>can't</i> do anything with her,” she says. “She <i>won't</i> go to
-sleep. She has been dreadful all day. I don't feel like I could stand it
-another minute.” Marthy threw herself on the bed and covered up her face
-with her hands. She was cryin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-I guess I frowned.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee looked up at me as sweet as a little angel.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim,” she says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“No!” says I, “No laim, Deedee. You lie down and go to sleep like a good
-girl. Papa'll fix your pillow nice.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I pounded up her pillow, and turned it over, and pulled the sheets out
-straight. Then I took the baby and laid her down gentle. She smiled and
-cuddled into the pillow.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Oh, what a nice bed!” I says. “Ain't it a nice bed, Deedee?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Nice bed,” she allowed.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Will I cover your feet?” I says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Feet cov,” she <i>says</i>, eager.
-</p>
-<p>
-So I spread the sheet up over her feet.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Shut little eyes,” I says in warning, but as gentle as you please, and
-she shut up her eyes so tight her eyelids wrinkled.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Now, good night, Deedee,” I says.
-</p>
-<p>
-“'Night, pa—pa!” she coos.
-</p>
-<p>
-I stole out of the room as quiet as I knowed how, and dropped cautious
-into my chair. I leaned back and smiled sort of grim. “That shows,” I
-thinks, “that women ain't got the right kind of tact to handle a kid, or
-else they 've got catchin' nerves. It shows how easy a man can—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!”
- </p>
-<p>
-Deedee's clear little voice just cut what I was thinkin' into two pieces.
-I was into that bedroom in about two steps. Deedee was standin' up in her
-crib.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim?” she says, sort of anxious.
-</p>
-<p>
-“No!” I says, stern in earnest. “No laim!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she demands.
-</p>
-<p>
-“No!” I says, in a way that froze her smile right where it was. She looked
-up at me doubtful-like, her little pink and white chin puckered up all
-ready to cry.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim, laim!” she pleaded.
-</p>
-<p>
-I reached over and forced her right back on to her pillow.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Deedee!” I says, in a voice that was new and that she wasn't acquainted
-with; “go to sleep! Be quiet! Stop this instant, or I <i>will</i> SPANK
-you!”
- </p>
-<p>
-I guess, mebby, the angels kept on singin' as joyful as ever up in Heaven.
-I guess, mebby, somewhere out west further, the sun was shinin' down gay
-on noddin', careless flowers. Mebby, even in the next block, some good
-baby was bein' snuggled up in its ma's arms; but to Deedee, lyin' in the
-corner of her crib, the world had got a million years older in about a
-minute. Her world that had been all smiles and pleasant things had turned
-into a world of hard words and cruel faces. Her mama dear had on a mask of
-unfeelin' coldness. Her papa dear stood up there towerin' above her, a
-sort of giant of wrath, flourishin' an awful, mysterious weapon, the word
-“spank.”
- </p>
-<p>
-It looked like everybody had gone back on her. Her friends—which was
-me and Marthy, her playmates—which was me and Marthy, her lovers—which
-was me and Marthy, the providers of her joy—which was me and Marthy,
-had turned into avengers. She was all alone in a world of clubs. Just one
-wee kid and everybody against her.
-</p>
-<p>
-She lay there a minute palpitatin', with her chin tremblin' piteous. What
-was to be did when her parents vanished, and these strange, harsh people
-took their places?
-</p>
-<p>
-She crep' to the foot of the crib, where I was still standin', and she got
-up and took hold of my arm and hugged it.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Pa-pa!” she says, loving.
-</p>
-<p>
-I pushed her back on the pillow again, gentle but firm.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Edith,” I says in the hard voice she wasn't acquainted with; “Lie down
-and go to sleep. I don't want to have no more of this. Go to sleep!” I
-heard the dinner bell tinkle from the dinin'-room, and I helped Marthy to
-git up, and we went out, and left Deedee alone in the dark.
-</p>
-<p>
-I ate the first part of my dinner without sayin' anything. It wasn't
-exactly easy to be lively under them circumstances. Even Uncle Ned didn't
-say nothin', and grand-daddy didn't feel called on to start a
-conversation. It got so we was so quiet it hurt. Uncle Ed made bold to
-speak.
-</p>
-<p>
-“When I was a kid,” he says, lightly, “I used to git spanked with a
-six-inch plank.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Edward!” says Marthy. “How can you say such a thing?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“It done me good,” he says. “You can't begin too young. We 've all got the
-devil in us, and the only way to git it out is to pound it out.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy laid down her fork, and her lips trembled.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Cut that out, Ed,” I says. “Marthy has the nerves to-night; the subject
-ain't popular.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I think she's goin' to be good now,” says grand-daddy, who always stuck
-up for the kid bein' the best that ever lived. “She seems quiet enough.
-She must have gone off to sleep.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I sure do hope so,” says Marthy. “I never had such a day with her.”
- “Mama, laim!” came the little voice from the bedroom, of a sudden.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I met Tuomy to-day,” I says, “and he—”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Mama, laim! Mama, laim!” called Deedee.
-</p>
-<p>
-“He asked to be remembered to you,” I says. “He was with May Wilson—”
- </p>
-<p>
-From the bedroom come a low, maddenin' wail:—
-</p>
-<p>
-“Mama, laim! Papa, laim!”
- </p>
-<p>
-It kept gittin' louder. It got to be a regular cry, punctuated off here
-and there with calls for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Marthy looked at me, hopeless. I seen the look and looked down at my
-plate.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I'll spank her when I'm done my dinner,” I says. “There's no other way.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We didn't say much durin' the rest of that meal. It was a very solemn
-feast. We was all thinkin' of Deedee. There wasn't no doubt that the time
-had come we had been afraid of. The punishment and the crime was properly
-fitted to each other.
-</p>
-<p>
-Now, or never, was the time to spank; but we was a ridiculous
-tender-hearted family, and, as the dinner went on, the spankin' of Deedee
-loomed up bigger than Pike's Peak. It piled up huge and record-breakin'
-above the tea-pots and the puddin's, and looked about as important as the
-end of the world, or a big war.
-</p>
-<p>
-When we got up it was like the condemned goin' to the execution, and we
-marched into the front room like a jury, bringin' in the death verdict,
-files into the court room.
-</p>
-<p>
-Deedee still cried for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-We four sat down, and looked at the carpet, as gloomy as a funeral. I
-opened my mouth, swallowed hard two times, and shut it again. Uncle Edward
-tapped on the carpet with his toe, grand-daddy looked at one of the spots
-on the same carpet like it was a personal insult to him, and Marthy
-smoothed out one of the roses on it with her heel. We wasn't half so
-interested in that carpet when we bought it as we looked to be that very
-minute.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Well?” says Marthy, at last. I kept my eye away from hers. I looked out
-of the window. Next I got up and stood by the window and stuck my hands
-deep down into my pants pockets.
-</p>
-<p>
-“If you 're goin' to—” says Marthy. “If you ain't—”
- </p>
-<p>
-Deedee was gittin' too bad to stand. It looked as if the neighbors would
-be comin' in to complain, next thing.
-</p>
-<p>
-I turned around and walked slow toward the bedroom. The three other
-grown-ups sat like stone statures. As I pushed aside the curtains, Marthy
-jumped across the room and grabbed me by the arm.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Hiram!” she cried eager, “You won't be too severe? You won't git mad and
-hurt her?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Marthy,” I says, “if you want to spank her, do so. If you want me to
-spank her, don't you mix in.” I shook her hand off of me, and she went
-back to her chair cryin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-Well, I went into that bedroom. Deedee left off cryin' when she seen me,
-and in the dim light I could see her standin' in the crib. I stuck out my
-hand to take her, and she hung on to it.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she begged.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Edith,” I says, hoarse in my throat, “you 've been naughty. Papa told you
-to go to sleep, and mama told you to go to sleep. When we tell you to go
-to sleep, you've got to go to sleep. Now, this is the last time I'm goin'
-to tell you. Will you lie down and go to sleep?”
- </p>
-<p>
-“Papa, laim!” she says, impatient.
-</p>
-<p>
-I set my mouth and lifted her up and laid her on the bed on her face and
-held her there. She struggled and yelled.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Be quiet!” I says, “be quiet, or I will spank you!”
- </p>
-<p>
-She gave one long, lingerin' cry for “laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-I took a long breath, and lifted up my hand, and—and—I ain't
-a-goin' to tell about that. Let's go into the other room.
-</p>
-<p>
-There set the three other grownups, holdin' their hands over their ears,
-with pained lookin' faces. Even at that they heard the sound of a dozen
-short, sharp claps, and the sound of the quick cries, and then there was a
-silent spell, only broke by the great big sobs of the little kid in the
-next room,—sobs that sort of exploded their way out, shakin' the
-little body till the crib rattled.
-</p>
-<p>
-<br /><br />
-</p>
-<hr />
-<p>
-<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>
-</p>
-<div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
-<img src="images/120.jpg" alt="The Sobbin' Got Weaker and Weaker 120 " width="100%" /><br />
-</div>
-<p>
-The sobbin' got weaker and weaker, and come further apart, and I stole out
-of the bedroom, wipin' my face with my handkerchief.
-</p>
-<p>
-“I think she'll be a good girly now,” says grand-daddy, gentle-like.
-</p>
-<p>
-That baby, shocked and surprised, laid on the pillow thinkin', as much as
-a baby could think. Something cruel and unexpected had happened to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Me and Marthy had turned cruel. She didn't have no one to love up to. She
-had been hurt. Her papa dear had hurt her, because she had cried for
-“laim.”
- </p>
-<p>
-“I hope she will,” says Marthy in reply to grand-daddy, and that minute
-from the bedroom, come Deedee's voice.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa!” it pleaded.
-</p>
-<p>
-I jumped up from my chair. Evidently that child needed—
-</p>
-<p>
-“Papa, kiss!” says Deedee, soft and pleadin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-Well, I rather guess we all kissed her! We hugged her until she was
-gaspin' for breath, and she smiled at us, and forgive us all, even while
-the sobs come once in a while to interfere with her smilin'.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Ain't she a dear, <i>dear</i> baby?” cried Marthy. “Poor little thing!”
- </p>
-<p>
-When we had loved her enough to spoil any good the spankin' had done,
-Marthy drove us out.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Come, deary,” she says to Deedee, “say your little prayers, mama forgot.”
- </p>
-<p>
-Deedee pressed up against her ma's knee, joyous.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Now I—” Marthy prompts her.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Nowee—” says Deedee.
-</p>
-<p>
-“Lay me—” says Marthy.
-</p>
-<p>
-“<i>Laim</i>,” says Deedee, tickled as you please, and then wonderin' why
-the whole lot of us shouts out “Laim!” of a sudden, and why we laugh, and
-crowd 'round her, and kiss her, and kiss her!
-</p>
-<p>
-“Poor baby!” says Marthy. “To be spanked for wantin' to say her prayers!”
- </p>
-<p>
-“By George!” says Uncle Edward. “Talk about your martyrs! She beats the
-whole bunch!”
- </p>
-<p>
-And to think there was once a time when me and Marthy thought a kid was
-more bother than it was worth! There ain't no child, nowhere, that ain't
-worth more than everything else in the world all put together. No, sir! A
-baby has got more human nature in it than a man has, even. You take your
-big, rough hand to it, and you chastise it, so that it screams out, and
-the next minute it takes time in between sobs to hug its soft little arms
-around your neck, and kiss you. Ain't that the reallest kind of human
-nature? Why, that's the kind that makes the world worth livin' in at all.
-</p>
-<p>
-I don't seem to recollect ever hearin' that Heaven was set aside as a sort
-of place where married folks could hang about by twos. Them that has had
-experience knows that that would be a mighty poor kind of heaven—one
-without children in it. It's the child kind of human nature that sweetens
-up the world. The “give and take” kind—take your spankin' when it
-comes, and give back love in return for it.
-</p>
-<div style="height: 6em;">
-<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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