12. "A CONTENTED COUPLE" October 6, 1911.
DEAR MRS. CONEY,—
. . . I once "heared" Sedalia Lane telling
some of her experiences, and she said she
"surreptitiously stole along." One day, when I
thought the coast was clear, I was surreptitiously
examining the contents of the tool-chest with a view toward securing to myself
such hammers, saws, and what else I might
need in doing some carpentry work I had
planned. The tool-chest is kept in the granary;
both it and the granary are usually kept
locked. Now the "gude mon" has an idea
that a "wooman" needs no tools, and the use
and misuse of his tools have led to numbers
of inter-household wars. I was gloating over
my opportunity, and also making the best
of it, when a medley of burring Scotch voices
brought me to a quick realization that discretion
is the better part of valor. So I went
into seclusion behind a tall oat-bin. It
seemed that two neighbors whom I had never
seen were preparing to go to town, and had
come to get some tools and to see if the
Stewart would lend them each a team. Now
Mr. Stewart must be very righteous, because
he certainly regardeth his beast, although
he doesn't always love his neighbor as himself.
He was willing, however, for friends
Tam Campbell and Archie McEttrick to use
his teams, but he himself would take a lighter
rig and go along, so as to see that his horses
were properly cared for, and to help out in
case of need.
They made their plans, set the day, and
went their ways. As soon as I could, I made
myself scarce about the granary and very
busy about the house, and, like Josiah Allen,
I was in a very "happyfied" state of mind.
There is nothing Mr. Stewart likes better
than to catch me unprepared for something.
I had been wanting to go to town, and he had
said I might go with him next time he went,
if I was ready when he was. I knew I would
not hear one word about the proposed trip,
but that only added to the fun. I had plenty
of time to make all preparations; so the day
before they were to start found me with all
in readiness. It was quite early in the spring
and the evenings were quite chilly. We had
just finished supper, when we heard a great
rumbling, and I knew neighbors Campbell
and McEttrick had arrived on their way to
town; so I began to prepare supper for them.
I hadn't expected a woman, and was surprised
when I saw the largest, most ungainly
person I have ever met come shambling
toward me.
She was Aggie McEttrick. She is tall and
raw-boned, she walks with her toes turned
out, she has a most peculiar lurching gait
like a camel's. She has skin the color of a
new saddle, and the oddest straggly straw-colored
hair. She never wears corsets and
never makes her waists long enough, so there
is always a streak of gray undershirt visible
about her waist. Her skirts are never long
enough either, and she knits her own stockings.
Those inclined can always get a good
glimpse of blue-and-white striped hose. She
said, "I guess you are the Missus." And
that was every word she said until I had
supper on the table. The men were busy
with their teams, and she sat with her feet
in my oven, eyeing my every movement. I
told her we had just had our supper, but she
waited until I had theirs ready before she
announced that neither she nor Archie ate hot
biscuits or steak, that they didn't take tea
for supper, preferred coffee, and that neither
of them could eat peaches or honey. So all of
my supper was ruled off except the butter
and cream. She went down to their wagons
and brought up what she wanted, so Tam
Campbell was the only one who ate my
honey and biscuit.
Tam is just a Scot with an amazingly close
fist, and he is very absent-minded. I had
met Annie, his wife, and their six children.
She told me of his absent-mindedness. Her
remedy for his trouble when it came to house-hold needs was to repeat the article two or
three times in the list. People out like we
are buy a year's supply at a time. So a list
of needed things is made up and sent into
town. Tam always managed to forget a
great many things.
Well, bedtime came. I offered to show them
to their room, but Aggie said, "We'll nae
sleep in your bed. We'll jest bide in the
kitchen." I could not persuade her to change
her mind. Tam slept at the barn in order
to see after the "beasties," should they need
attention during the night. As I was preparing
for bed, Aggie thrust her head into
my room and announced that she would be
up at three o'clock. I am not an early bird,
so I thought I would let Aggie get her own
breakfast, and I told her she would find
everything in the pantry. As long as I was
awake I could hear Archie and Aggie talking,
but I could not imagine what about. I
didn't know their habits so well as I came
to later. Next morning the rumbling of their
wagons awakened me, but I turned over and
slept until after six.
There are always so many things to do before
leaving that it was nine o'clock before
we got started. We had only gotten about
two miles, when Mr. Stewart remembered
he had not locked the granary, so back we
trotted. We nooned only a few miles from
home. We knew we could not catch the
wagons before camping-time unless we drove
very hard, so Mr. Stewart said we would
go by the Edmonsons' and spend the night
there. I enjoy even the memory of that drive
through the short spring afternoon,—the
warm red sand of the desert; the Wind River
Mountains wrapped in the blue veil of distance;
the sparse gray-green sage, ugly in
itself, but making complete a beautiful picture;
the occasional glimpse we had of shy,
beautiful wild creatures. So much happiness
can be crowded into so short a time. I was
glad, though, when Cora Belle's home became
a part of our beautiful picture. It is situated
among great red buttes, and there is a
blue lake back of the house. Around the
lake is a fringe of willows. Their house is
a low, rambling affair, with a long, low porch
and a red clay roof. Before the house is a
cotton-wood tree, its gnarled, storm-twisted
branches making it seem to have the "rheumatiz."
There is a hop-vine at one end of the
porch. It had not come out when we were
there, but the dead vine clung hopelessly to
its supports.
Little Cora Belle just bubbled with delight,
and her grandparents were scarcely better
than she. Spring house-cleaning was just
finished, and they have company so seldom
that they made us feel that we were doing
them a favor by stopping. Poor old "Pa"
hobbled out to help put the team away, and
when they came back, Cora Belle asked me
out to help prepare supper, so I left Mr.
Stewart with "Granny" and "Pa" to listen
to their recitals and to taste their many
medicines. Cora Belle is really an excellent
housekeeper. Her cooking would surprise
many people. Her bread was delicious, and I
am sure I never tasted anything better than
the roasted leg of lamb she gave us for supper.
I am ashamed to tell you how much I ate of
her carrot jam. From where I sat I had a
splendid view of the sunset across the lake.
Speaking of things singly, Wyoming has
nothing beautiful to offer. Taken altogether,
it is grandly beautiful, and at sunrise and
sunset the "heavens declare His glory."
Cora Belle is so animated and so straight-forward, so entirely clean in all her thoughts
and actions, that she commands love and
respect at one and the same time. After supper
her grandfather asked her to sing and
play for us. Goodness only knows where
they got the funny little old organ that Cora
Belle thinks so much of. It has spots all over
it of medicine that has been spilled at different
times, and it has, as Cora Belle said, lost
its voice in spots; but that doesn't set back
Cora Belle at all, she plays away just as if
it was all right. Some of the keys keep up
a mournful whining and groaning, entirely
outside the tune. Cora Belle says they
play themselves. After several "pieces" had
been endured, "Pa" said, "Play my piece,
Cory Belle"; so we had "Bingen on the
Rhine" played and sung from A to izzard.
Dear old "Pa," his pain-twisted old face
just beamed with pride. I doubt if heaven
will have for him any sweeter music than his
"baby's" voice. Granny's squeaky, trembly
old voice trailed in after Cora Belle's, always
a word or two behind. "Tell my friends and
companions when they meet and
scrouge
around"; that is the way they sang it, but no
one would have cared for that, if they had
noticed with what happy eagerness the two
sang together. The grandparents would like
to have sat up all night singing and telling of
things that happened in bygone days, but
poor tired little Cora Belle began to nod, so
we retired. As we were preparing for bed it
suddenly occurred to Mr. Stewart that I had
not been surprised when going to town was
mentioned, so he said, "Wooman, how did it
happen that you were ready when I was to
gae to the toone?" "Oh," I said, "I knew you
were going." "Who tell it ye?" "A little
bird." "'T was some fool wooman, mayhap."
I didn't feel it necessary to enlighten him,
and I think he is still wondering how I knew.
Next morning we were off early, but we
didn't come up with the wagons until almost
camping-time. The great heavily-loaded
wagons were creaking along over the heavy
sands. The McEttricks were behind, Aggie's
big frame swaying and lurching with every
jolt of the wagon. They never travel without
their German socks. They are great thick
things to wear on the outside of their shoes.
As we came up behind them, we could see
Aggie's big socks dangling and bobbing
beside Archie's from where they were tied on
the back part of the wagon. We could hear
them talking and see them gesticulating.
When we came nearer, we found they were
quarreling, and they kept at it as long as I
was awake that night. After the men had
disposed of their loads, they and Mr. Stewart
were going out of town to where a new coal-mine was being opened. I intended to go on
the train to Rock Springs to do some shopping.
Aggie said she was going also. I suggested
that we get a room together, as we
would have to wait several hours for the
train, but she was suspicious of my motives.
She is greatly afraid of being "done," so she
told me to get my own room and pay for it.
We got into town about three o'clock in the
afternoon, and the train left at midnight.
I had gone to my room, and Jerrine and
myself were enjoying a good rest after our
fatiguing drive, when my door was thrown
open and a very angry Aggie strode in. They
asked us fifty cents each for our rooms. Aggie
paid hers under protest and afterward got to
wondering how long she was entitled to its
use. She had gone back to the clerk about it,
and he had told her for that night only. She
argued that she should have her room for a
quarter, as she would only use it until midnight.
When that failed, she asked for her
money back, but the clerk was out of patience
and refused her that. Aggie was angry all
through. She vowed she was being robbed.
After she had berated me soundly for submitting
so tamely, she flounced back to her own
room, declaring she would get even with the
robbers. I had to hurry like everything that
night to get myself and Jerrine ready for the
train, so I could spare no time for Aggie. She
was not at the depot, and Jerrine and I had
to go on to Rock Springs without her. It is
only a couple of hours from Green River to
Rock Springs, so I had a good nap and a late
breakfast. I did my shopping and was back
at Green River at two that afternoon. The
first person I saw was Aggie. She sat in the
depot, glowering at everybody. She had a
basket of eggs and a pail of butter, which she
had been trying to sell. She was waiting for
the night train, the only one she could get to
Rock Springs. I asked her had she overslept.
"No, I didna," she replied. Then, she proceeded
to tell me that, as she had paid for a
whole night's use of a room, she had stayed
to get its use. That it had made her plans
miscarry didn't seem to count.
After all our business was attended to, we
started for home. The wagons were half a
day ahead of us. When we came in sight,
we could see Aggie fanning the air with her
long arms, and we knew they were quarreling.
I remarked that I could not understand
how persons who hated each other so could
live together. Clyde told me I had much
to learn, and said that really he knew of no
other couple who were actually so devoted.
He said to prove it I should ask Aggie into
the buggy with me and he would get in with
Archie, and afterwards we would compare
notes. He drove up alongside of them, and
Aggie seemed glad to make the exchange.
As we had the buggy, we drove ahead of the
wagons. It seems that Archie and Aggie are
each jealous of the other. Archie is as ugly
a little monkey as it would be possible to
imagine. She bemeaned him until at last I
asked her why she didn't leave him, and
added that I would not stand such crankiness
for one moment. Then she poured out
the vials of her wrath upon my head, only I
don't think they were vials but barrels.
About sundown we made it to where we
intended to camp and found that Mrs.
O'Shaughnessy had established a sheep-camp
there, and was out with her herd herself,
having only Manny, a Mexican boy she had
brought up herself, for a herder. She welcomed
us cordially and began supper for our
entire bunch. Soon the wagons came, and all
was confusion for a few minutes getting the
horses put away for the night. Aggie went
to her wagon as soon as it stopped and made
secure her butter and eggs against a possible
raid by Mrs. O'Shaughnessy. Having asked
too high a price for them, she had failed to
sell them and was taking them back. After
supper we were sitting around the fire, Tam
going over his account and lamenting that
because of his absent-mindedness he had
bought a whole hundred pounds of sugar
more than he had intended, Aggie and
Archie silent for once, pouting I suspect.
Clyde smiled across the camp-fire at me and
said, "Gin ye had sic a lass as I hae, ye might
blither." "Gin ye had sic a mon as mine—"
I began, but Mrs. O'Shaughnessy said, "Gin
ye had sic a mon as I hae." Then we all
three laughed, for we had each heard the
same thing, and we knew the McEttricks
wouldn't fight each other. They suspected
us of laughing at them, for Archie said to
Aggie, "Aggie, lass, is it sport they are making
of our love?" "'T is daft they be, Archie,
lad; we'll nae mind their blither." She arose
and shambled across to Archie and hunkered
her big self down beside him. We went to
bed and left them peaceable for once.
I am really ashamed of the way I have
treated you, but I know you will forgive me.
I am not strong yet, and my eyes are still
bothering me, but I hope to be all right soon
now, and I promise you a better letter next
time. Jerrine is very proud of her necklace.
I think they are so nice for children. I can
remember how proud I was of mine when I
was a child. Please give your brother our
thanks, and tell him his little gift made my
little girl very happy.
I am afraid this letter will seem rather
jumbled. I still want the address of your
friend in Salem or any other. I shall find
time to write, and I am not going to let my
baby prevent me from having many enjoyable
outings. We call our boy Henry Clyde
for his father. He is a dear little thing, but
he is a lusty yeller for baby's rights.
With much love,
JERRINE AND HER MAMMA.