Stringer, Arthur, 1874-1950 / 2008-09-15 00:00:00
As Olie had disappeared from the scene and was nowhere to be found, I
went in and got my own breakfast. It was supper over again, only I
scrambled my eggs instead of frying them. And all the while I was eating
that meal I studied those shack-walls and made mental note of what
should be changed and what should be done. There was so much, that it
rather overwhelmed me. I sat at the table, littered with its dirty
dishes, wondering where to begin. And then the endless vista of it all
suddenly opened up before me. I became nervously conscious of the
unbroken silence about me, and I realized how different this new life
must be from the old. It seemed like death itself, and it got a strangle
hold on my nerves, and I knew I was going to make a fool of myself the
very first morning in my new home, in my home and Dinky-Dunk's. But I
refused to give in. I did something which startled me a little,
something which I had not done for years. I got down on my knees beside
that plain wooden chair and prayed to God. I asked Him to give me
strength to keep me from being a piker and make me a wife worthy of the
man who loved me, and lead me into the way of bringing happiness to the
home that was to be ours. Then I rolled up my sleeves, tied a face towel
over my head and went to work.
It was a royal cleaning-out, I can tell you. In the afternoon I had Olie
down on all fours scrubbing the floor.
Read more
Parts:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10