Ol' age cayn't stand such things so well. No, I never once
mentioned the woman to yore pa. I knowed it would jest make him resort
to lyin', an' at the bottom he was a good, pious man. He jest couldn't
quit thinkin' o' that yaller-headed woman an' her blue eyes an' shiny
store shoes. I jest pitied 'im like he was a baby. It went on till he
got sick, an' many an' many a day he'd lie thar helpless an' look out
towards the cow-lot, wistful like, an' I knowed he was thinkin' o' that
pictur'. He was lookin' that way when he drawed his last breath. It
may 'a' been jest a notion o' mine, fer some said he was unconscious
all that day, but it looked that away to me. I nussed him through his
sickness as well as I could, an' attended to every wish he had till he
passed away. Now, you know some'n' else, Sally. You know why I never
put up no rock at his grave. The neighbors has had a lots to say about
that one thing--most of 'em sayin' I was too stingy to pay fer it, but
it wasn't that, darlin'. It was jest beca'se I had too much woman
pride. When I promised the Lord to love an' obey, it was not expected
that I'd put up a rock over another woman's man if he was dead.
Pages:
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28