I must go up in the mountains,
away from this, where there's the good air and a chance for my lung to
heal, otherwise--"
Martha stroked the damp hair away from his temples with her powdery
hand.
"Well, well!" she said reflectively. "Now, what do you think o' that!"
"O, Martha--I can't stand it! You an' the children! It's more than I can
bear!"
Mrs. Slawson gave the head against her breast a final pat that, to
another than her husband, might have felt like a blow.
"More'n you can bear? Don't flatter yourself, Sammy my lad! Not by no
means it ain't. I wouldn't like to have to stand up to all I could
ackchelly bear. It's God, not us, knows how much we can stand, an' when
He gets in the good licks on us, He always leaves us with a little
stren'th to spare--to last over for the next time. Now, I'm not a bit
broke down by what you've told me. I s'pose you thought you'd have me
sobbin' on your shoulder--to give you a chanct to play up, an' do the
strong-husband act, comfortin' his little tremblin' wife.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158