The Tinder-Box

by Maria Thompson Daviess

  CHAPTER VII

  SOME SMOLDERINGS

  I'm a failure! Yes, Jane, I am!

  Polk Hayes is an up-to-date, bright man of the world, with lots ofbrains and I should say about the average masculine nature, and a greatdeal more than the average amount of human charm. However, he has got nomore brains than I have, has had really fewer advantages, and it oughtto be easy for me to hold my own against him. But I am about to fail onhim.

  For the last two weeks he has been constantly with Nell and has got herin a dreamy state that shows in her face and every movement of her slimbody. And yet I know without the shadow of a doubt that he is justbiding his time to try me out and get me on his own terms. My heartaches for Nell, and I just couldn't see him murder her girlhood, and itwill amount to that if he involves her heart any more than it is. I madeup my mind to have it out with him and accordingly let him come and siton my side steps with me late yesterday afternoon, when I have avoidedbeing alone with him for a month.

  "Polk," I asked him suddenly without giving him time to get thesituation into his own hands, skilled in their woman-handling, "do youintend to marry Nell or just plain break her heart for the fun you getout of it?"

  His dangerous eyes smoldered back at me for a long minute before heanswered me:

  "Men don't break women's hearts, Evelina."

  "I think you are right," I answered slowly, "they do just wring anddistort them and deform them for life. But I intend to see that Nell'shas no such torturous operation performed on it if I can appeal to youor convince her."

  "When you argue with Nell be sure and don't tell her just exactly thethings _you_ have done to _me_ all this summer through, Evelina." heanswered coolly.

  "What do you mean?" I demanded, positively cold with a kind ofastonished fear.

  "I mean that I have never offered Nell one half of the torture you haveoffered me, every day since you came home, with your damned affectionatefriendliness. When I laugh, you answer it before it gets articulate, andwhen I gloom, you are as sympathetic as sympathy itself. I have heldyour hand and kissed it, instituting and not quenching a raging thirstthereby, as you are experienced enough to know. You have made yourselfeverything for me that is responsive and desirable and beautiful andworthy and have put me back every time I have reached out to grasp you.You don't want me, you don't want to marry me at all, you just want--excitement. You are as cold as ice that grinds and generates fire.Very well, you don't have to take me--and I'll get what I can fromNell--and others."

  "Oh, Polk, how could you have misunderstood me like this?" I moaned fromthe depths of an almost broken heart. But as I moaned I understood--Iunderstood!

  I'm doing it all wrong! I had the most beautiful human love for him inmy heart and he thought it was all dastardly, cold coquetting. An awfulspark has been struck out of the flint. I'm not worthy to experimentwith this dreadful man-and-woman question. I just laid my head down onmy arms, resting on my knees and cowered at Polk's feet.

  "Don't--Evelina, I didn't mean it." he said quickly in a shaken voice.But he did!

  I couldn't answer him and as I sat still and prayed in my heart for somewords to come that would do away with the horror I heard Sallie's voicefrom my front walk, and she and Mr. Haley, each carrying a sleepingtwin, came around the corner of the porch.

  That interruption was a direct answer to prayer, for God knew that Ijust must have time to think before having this out with Polk. Isometimes feel ashamed of the catastrophes I have to pray quick about,but what would I do if I couldn't?

  I don't know how I got through the rest of this evening, but I did--Ipray for sleep. Amen!

  Watching the seasons follow each other in the Harpeth Valley gives methe agony of a dumb poet, who can feel though not sing.

  It was spring when I came down here four months ago, a young, tender,mist-veiled, lilac-scented spring that nestled firmly in your heart andmade it ache with sweetness that you hardly understood yourself.

  But before I knew it the young darling, with her curls and buds andapple-blooms had gone and summer was rioting over the gardens and fieldsand hills, rich, lush colored, radiant, redolent, gorgeous, rose-scentedand pulsing with a life that made me breathless. Even the roads alongthe valley were bordered with flowers that the sun had wooed to theswooning point.

  But this week, early as it is, there has been a hint of autumn in theair, and a haze is beginning to creep over the whole world, especiallyin the early mornings, which are so dew-gemmed that they seem to behinting a warning of the near coming of frost and snow.

  My garden has grown into a perfect riot of blooms, but for the last twoweeks queer slugs have begun to eat the tender buds that are forming forOctober blooming, and I have been mourning over it by day and by nightand to everybody who will listen.

  Aunt Augusta insists that the only thing to do is to get up with thefirst crack of dawn and carefully search out each slug, remove it anddestroy it. She says if this is done for a week they will beexterminated.

  I carefully explained it all to Jasper and when I came down to breakfasthe was coming in with three queer green things, also with an injured airof having been kept up all night. I didn't feel equal to making him goon with the combat and ignored the question for two days until I saw allthe buds on my largest Neron done for in one night.

  I have always been able to get up at the break of day to gosketching--it was at daybreak that I made my sketch in the Defleurygardens that captured the French art eye enough to get me my Salonmention. If I could get up to splash water-colors at that hour, I surelycould rush to the protection of my own roses, so I went to bed with graydawn on my mind and the shutters wide open so the first light would getfull in my eyes.

  I am glad that it was a good bright ray that woke me and partly dazzledme, for the sight I had, after I had been kneeling down in the rose bedfor fifteen minutes, was something of a shock to me, though no reason inthe world why it should have been. I can't remember that I everspeculated as to whether the Crag wore pajamas or not, and I don't seethat I should have been surprised that he did instead of the night shirtof our common ancestry.

  He came around the side of the house out of the sun-shot mist and washalf way down the garden path before I saw him or he saw me, and I mustsay that his unconcern under the circumstances was rather remarkable.

  He was attired in a light blue silk pajama jacket that was open at thethroat and half way down his broad breast. He had on his usual graytrousers, but tag's of blue trailed out and ruffled around his bareankles, and across his bare heels that protruded from his slippers. Hishair was in heavy tousled black curls all over his head and his grayeyes were positively mysterious with interrupted dreams. In one hand hecarried a tin can and in the other a small pointed stick, which lookedmurderously fitted for the extermination of the marauders.

  I was positively nervous over the prospect of his embarrassment when heshould catch sight of me, but there was none.

  "Eve!" he exclaimed, with surprise, and a ray of pure delight drove awaythe dreams in his eyes. Nobody in the wide world calls me Eve but justthe Crag, and he does it in a queer, still way when he is surprised tosee me, or glad, or sorry, or moved with any kind of sudden emotion.

  And queer as it is I have to positively control the desire to answer himwith the correlated title--Adam!

  "I forgot to tell you yesterday that I was coming over to get the slugsfor you, dear," he said as he came down the row of roses next to mine,squatted opposite to where I was kneeling by the bushy, suffering Neronand began to examine the under side of each leaf carefully. He was themost beautiful thing I have ever seen in the early light with his greatchest bare and the blue of the pajamas melting into the bronze of histhroat and calling out the gray in his eyes. I had to force myself intobeing gardener rather than artist, as we laughed together over the glassbowl and silver spoon I had brought out for the undoing of the slugs.Some day I'm going to paint him like that!

  His gray eyes were positively mysterious with interrupteddream
s]

  I found out about the pajamas from questioning Aunt Martha discreetly.They seemed so incongruous in relation to the usual old Henry Clay coatand stock collar, that I had to know the reason why. Mrs. Hargrove's sonwas a very worldly man, she says, and wore them. It comforts her to makethem for the Crag to wear in memoriam. He wears the collars CousinMartha makes him with her own fingers after the pattern she made hisfather's by, for the same reason, and lets Cousin Jasmine cut his hairbecause she always cut her father's, Colonel Horton's, until his death.That accounts for the ante-bellum curls and the irregular tags in theback. I almost laughed when Cousin Martha was telling me, but Iremembered how a glow rose in my heart when I saw that he still hadFather's little old Confederate comrade tailor cut his coats on the samepattern on which he had cut Father's, since the days of reconstruction.Sometimes it startles me to find that with all my emancipation I am verylike other women.

  But I wonder what I would do if Sallie attired him in any of the lateHenry's wearing apparel?

  "What do you suppose is the why of such useless things as slugs?" Ispeculated to stop that thought off sharp as we crawled down the rowtogether, he searching one side of each bush and I the other.

  "Well, they brought on this nice companionable hunt for them, didn'tthey?" he asked, looking over into my eyes with a laugh.

  "I wanted to see you early this morning anyway," he hastily resumed."Sallie and the Dominie sat talking to you so late last night that Ididn't feel it was fair to come across after they left. But I wanted youso I could hardly get to sleep, and I was just half awake from a dreamof you, when I came into the garden."

  "My evenings don't belong to anybody, if you need them, Jamie, and youdon't have to be told that," I answered crossly when I thought what agrand time I might have been having talking about real things with theCrag, instead of wrestling with Polk's romantics or Sallie's and Mr.Haley's gush.

  "Go on and tell me all about it, while I crawl after you like a wormmyself," I snapped still further.

  "Well, here goes! In the City Council meeting last night your UnclePeter told us about the plans that they have made up at Bolivar forentertaining the C. & G. Commission, and the gloom of Polk and Lee, Nedand the rest of them could have easily been cut in blocks and used forcold storage purposes. They are just all down and out about it and nofight left. Of course, they all lose by the bond issue, but I can't seethat it is bad enough to knock them all out like this. I got up inmighty wrath and--and I have got myself into one job. My eloquencelanded me right into one large hole, and I am reaching out for a handfrom you."

  "Here it is," and I reached over and left a smear of loam across theback of his hand, while I brought away a brown circle around my wristthat the responsive grasp of his fingers left. "Do you want mesingle-handed to get the bluff line chosen?"

  "Not quite, but almost," he answered with another laugh. "You would ifyou tried. I haven't a doubt. Do you remember the talk we had the othernight about its seeming inhospitable of you not to invite the othergentlemen in the Commission over to see you when you invite Hall and hisfather? And you know you had partly planned some sort of entertainmentfor the whole bunch. You had the right idea at the right place, as youalways do. As you said, we don't want Bolivar to see us with what lookslike a grouch on us at their good fortune, and I think that as theCommission are all to be here as the guests of a private citizen,Glendale ought to entertain them publicly. There is no hope to get theline for us, but I would like those men at least to see what the beautyof that bluff road would be. The line across the river runs through theonly ugly part of the valley, and while I know in the balance betweendollars and scenery, scenery will go down and out, still it would begood for them to see it and at least get a vision of what might havebeen, to haunt them when they take their first trip through the swampsacross the country there. Now, as you are to have them anyway, I want tohave the whole town entertain the whole Commission and Bolivar with whatis classically called among us a barbecue-rally, the countryside to beinvited. Bolivar is going to give them a banquet, to be as near likewhat the Bolivarians imagine they have in New York as possible, and Mrs.Doctor Henderson is to give them a pink tea reception to which carefullychosen presentables, like you and me, are to be invited. You rememberthat circus day in July?--a rally will be like that or more so. What doyou think?"

  "Oh, I think you are a genius to think about it," I gasped, as I satdown on a very cruet Killarney branch and just as quickly sat up again,receiving comforting expressions of sympathy from across the bush, towhich I paid no heed. "Those blase city men will go crazy about it. Wecan have the barbecue up on the bluff, where we have always had it forthe political rallies, and a fish-fry and the country people in theirwagons with children tumbling all over everything and--and you will makea great speech with all of us looking on and being proud of you, becausenobody in New York or beyond can do as well. We can invite a lot ofpeople up from the City and over from Bolivar and Hillsboro andProvidence to hear you tell them all about Tennessee while things arecooking and--"

  "This rally is to show off Glendale not--the Crag," he interrupted mewith a quizzical laugh.

  Now, how did he know I called him the Crag in my heart? I suppose I didit to his face and never knew. I seem to think right out loud when I amwith him and feel out loud, too. I ignored his levity, that was out ofplace when he saw how my brain was beginning to work well and rapidly.

  "You mean, don't you, Jamie, that you want to get Glendale past thisplace that is--humiliating--swimming with her head up?" I asked softlypast a rose that drooped against my cheek.

  Perfectly justifiable tears came to my lashes as I thought what ahumiliation it all was to him and the rest of them, to be passed by anopportunity like that and left to die in their gray moldiness off themain line of life--shelved.

  "That is one of my prayers, to get past humiliations, swimming with myhead up," I added softly, though I blushed from my toes to my top curlat the necessity that had called out the prayer the last time. It'sawful on a woman to feel herself growing up stiff and sturdy by a man'sside and then to get sight of a gourd-vine tangling itself up betweenthem. I'm the dryad out of one of my own twin oaks down by the gate,and I want the other twin to be--

  I wonder if his eyes really look to other women like deep gray poolsthat you can look deeper and deeper into and never seem to get to thebottom, no matter if the look does seem to last forever and you feelyourself blushing and wanting to take your eyes away, or if it is just Ithat get so drowned in them!

  "You've a gallant stroke, Evelina," he said softly, as I at last gainedpossession of my own sight. "And here I am with a hand out to you forassistance in carrying out your own plan that seems to be just the thingto--"

  "Say, Cousin James. Aunt Marfy says for you to come home to breakfastright away. Mis' Hargrove won't let nobody begin until you says theblessing, and Cousin Jasmine have got the headache from waiting for hercoffee. What do you want to fool with Evelina this time of day foranyway?" And with the delivery of which message and reproof Henriettastood on the edge of the path looking down upon us with great andscornful interest.

  "You've got on your night shirt and haven't combed your hair or washedyour face," she continued sternly. "There'll be hell to pay with all thebreakfast getting cold, and I'm empty down to my feet. Come on, quick!"

  "Henrietta," I said, sternly, as I rose to my feet, "I've asked you oncenot to say ugly words like that."

  "I'll go make the lightning toilet, Henrietta. Do run like a good girland ask Mrs. Hargrove to let Cousin Jasmine have her cup of coffee rightaway. I'll be there before the rest are dead from hunger," and CousinJames skilfully interrupted the threatened feminine clash as he emptiedmy glass bowl into his tin can and stuck the sharp stick in the groundfor future reference. Even Henrietta's pointed allusion to his toilethad not in the least ruffled his equanimity or brought a shade ofconsciousness to his face.

  "Mis' Hargrove said that the Bible said not for any woman to say ablessing at any table o
r at any place that anybody can hear her, whenCousin Marfy wanted to be polite to the Lord by saying just a little oneand go on before we was all too hungry," answered Henrietta, in her mostscornfully tolerant voice. "If women eat out loud before everybody whycan't they pray their thank-you out loud like any man?"

  "Answer her, Evelina," laughed Cousin James, as he hurried down the walkaway from us.

  "Henrietta," I asked, in a calmly argumentative tone of voice as she andI walked up the path to the house, "didn't Mr. Haley talk to you justyesterday and tell you how wicked it is for you to use--use such strongwords as you do?"

  Mr. Haley had told me just a few days ago that he and Aunt Augusta hadagreed to open their campaign of reform on Henrietta by a pastorallecture from him, to be followed strongly by a neighborly one from her.

  "No, he never did any such thing," answered Henrietta, promptly--andwhat Henrietta says is always the truth, because she isn't afraid ofanybody or anything enough to tell a lie---"he just telled me over andover in a whole lot of words how I ought to love and be good to Sallie.If I was to love Sallie that kind of way, he said, I would be so busy Icouldn't do none of the things Sallie don't like to do herself and makesme do. 'Stid er saying, 'my precious mother, I love you and want to begood because you want me to,' about every hour, I had better wipe thetwins' noses, and wash the dirt often them, and light Aunt Dilsie'sphthisic pipe, and get things upstairs for Sallie and Miss Jasmine andeverybody when they are downstairs. I'm too busy, I am, to be soreligious. And I'm too hungry to talk any more about it." With which shedeparted.

  I sank on the side steps and laughed until a busy old bumble-bee camedown from a late honeysuckle blossom and buzzed around to see what itwas all about. Henrietta's statement of the case was a graphic and justone. Sallie has got a tendril around Henrietta which grows by the day.Poor tot, she does have a hard and hardening time--and how can I lectureher for swearing?

  With a train of thought started by Henrietta I sat at my solitarybreakfast in a deeply contemplative mood. Life was going to press hardon Henrietta. And reared in the fossilized atmosphere of Widegables,which tried to draw all its six separate feminine breaths as one with alone, supporting man, how was she to develop the biceps of strength ofmind and soul, as well as body, to meet the conditions she was likelyto have to meet? Still her coming tussle with Aunt Augusta would be atonic at least. I was just breaking a last muffin and beginning to smilewhen I saw a delegation coming down the street and turning into my frontgate; I rose to meet it with distinction.

  Aunt Augusta marched at the head and Nell and Caroline were on each sideof her, while Sallie and Mamie Hall brought up the rear, walking moredeliberately and each carrying a baby, comparing some sort of white tagsof sewing. Cousin Martha was crossing the Road in their wake with herknitting bag and palm leaf fan.

  One thing I am proud of having accomplished this summer is theestablishing of friendly relations with Aunt Augusta. I made up my mindthat she probably needed to have some of my affection ladled out to hermore than anybody in Glendale, and I worked on all the volatile fear andresentment and dislike I had ever had for her all my life, and I havesucceeded in liquefying it into a genuine liking for the martial oldpersonality. If Aunt Augusta had been a man she would have probably leda regiment up San Juan Hill, died in the trenches, and covered herselfand family with glory. She is the newest woman in the Harpeth Valley,and though sixty years old, she is lineally Sallie Carruthers's owngranddaughter.

  "Evelina," she began, as soon as she had martialed her forces intorocking-chairs, though she had Jasper bring her the stiffest andstraightest-backed one in the house, "I have collected as many women asI had time to, and have come up here to tell you, and them, that the menin Glendale are so lacking in sense and judgment that the time has comefor women to stand forth and assume the responsibility of them andGlendale in general. As the wife of the poor decrepit Mayor, I appointmyself chairman of the meeting pro tem and ask you to take the firstminutes. If disgrace is threatening us we must at least face it in anorderly and parliamentary way. And I--"

  "Oh, Mrs. Shelby, is it--is it smallpox?" and as Sallie spoke she huggedup the Puppy baby, who happened to be the twin in her arms, so that shebubbled and giggled, mistaking her embraces for those of frolicsomeaffection.

  Mamie turned pale and held her baby tight and I could see that she washaving light spasms of alarm, one for each one of the children and onefor Ned.

  "Smallpox, fiddlesticks--I said disgrace, Sallie Carruthers, and theworst kind of disgrace--municipal disgrace." And as Aunt Augusta namedthe plague that was to come upon us, she looked as if she expected it towilt us all into sear and dried leaves. And in point of fact, we all didrustle.

  "Tell us about it," said Nell, with sparkling eyes and sitting up in herlow rocker as straight as Aunt Augusta did in her uncompromising seat.The rest of them just looked helpless and undecided as to whether to berelieved or not.

  "Yes, municipal disgrace threatens the town, and the women must rise intheir strength and avert it," she declaimed majestically with her darkeyes snapping.

  "Yesterday afternoon James Hardin, who is the only patriotic male inGlendale, put before the Town Council a most reasonable andpride-bestirring proposition originated by Evelina Shelby, one ofGlendale's leading citizens, though a woman. She wants to offer thefar-famed hospitality of Glendale--which is the oldest and mostaristocratic town in the Harpeth Valley, except perhaps Hillsboro, andwhich is not in the class with a vulgarly rich, modern place likeBolivar, that has a soap-factory and streetcars, and was a mud-hole inthe landscape when the first Shelby built this very house,--to theCommission of magnates who are to come down about the railroad linesthat are to be laid near us. James agrees with her and urges that it isfitting and dignified that, when they are through with their vulgartrafficking over at insignificant Bolivar, they be asked to partake ofreal southern hospitality at its fountain head, especially as Evelina isobliged to invite two of them as personal friends. Do you not see it inthat light?" And Aunt Augusta looked at us with the martial mien of ageneral commanding his army for a campaign.

  "It would be nice," answered Mamie, as she turned little Ned over on hisstomach across her knee and began to sway him and trot him at the sametime, which was his signal to get off into a nap. "But Ned said lastnight that he had lost so much in the bond subscription, that he didn'tfeel like spending any more money for an entertainment, that wouldn't doone bit of good about the taxes or bonds or anything. The baby wasbeginning to fret, so I don't think I understood it exactly."

  "I don't think you did," answered Aunt Augusta, witheringly, "That isnot the point at all, and--"

  "But Mr. Greenfield said last night, while he was discussing it withFather, that it would do no good whatever and probably be anembarrassment to the Commission, our putting in a pitiful bid like that.He--" but Caroline got no further with the feminine echo of hermasculine opinion-former.

  "Peter Shelby put that objection much more picturesquely than LeeGreenfield," Aunt Augusta snapped. "He said that licking those men'shands would turn his stomach, after swallowing that bond issue. However,all this has nothing to do with the case. I am trying to--"

  "Polk said last night that he thought it would be much more spectacularfor all the good looking women in town to go when we are invited to Mrs.Henderson's tea for the big bugs, and dazzle 'em so that it would atleast put Glendale on the map," said Nell, with spirit. "He made me somad that I--"

  "Mr. Haley thinks that we should be very careful not to feel malice orenvy towards Bolivar, but to rejoice at their good fortune in gettingboth roads and the shops, even if it does mean a loss to us. What ismaterial wealth in this world anyway when we can depend so on--"Sallie's expression was so beautifully silly and like the Dominie's,that it was all that I could do not to give vent to an unworthy shout.Nell saw it as I did and I felt her smother a giggle.

  But before Aunt Augusta could get her breath to put the crux of thematter straight before her feminine tribunal, Aunt Martha
beat her to itas she placidly rocked back and forth knitting lace for a petticoat forHenrietta.

  "Of course, Glendale doesn't really care about the railroad; in fact, wewould much rather not have our seclusion broken in upon, especially asthey might choose the route they have prospected"--with a glance atSallie--"but it is to show them our friendliness, more Bolivar than theactual Commission, and our desire to rejoice with them in their goodfortune. It would be very mean spirited of us to ignore them and notassist them in entertaining their guests, especially as some of themmust be invited. We've never been in such an attitude as that toBolivar!"

  "Exactly, Martha," answered Aunt Augusta with relief. "The thought ofproud old Glendale putting herself in an attitude of municipal sulkstowards common Bolivar seemed an unbearable disgrace to me. Didn't weinvite them up for a great fish-fry on the river when they opened thatodious soap factory, and ask them to let us help take care of some oftheir delegates when they had the Methodist Conference? They sent one ofthe two bishops to you, you remember, Martha, and I am sure yourentertainment of him was so lavish that he went home ill. No man saidus nay in the exercising our right of religious hospitality, why shouldthey in our civic? We must not allow the town to put us in such anattitude! Must Not! It was for this that I called this meeting atEvelina's, as she was the one to propose this public-spirited andcreditable plan."

  "But what shall we do if they don't want to have it?" asked Mamie.

  "I have asked, when did the men of Glendale begin to dictate to thewomen as to whom they should offer their hospitality?" answered AuntAugusta, as she arose to her feet. "Are we free women, and have we, orhave we not, command of our own storerooms and our own servants and ourown time and strength?"

  And as I looked up at the tall, fierce, white-haired old dame of highdegree, daughter of the women of the Colonies and the women of theWilderness days, I got exactly the same sensation I had when I saw theGoddess of Liberty loom up out of the mist as I sailed into the harborof my own land from a foreign one. And what I was feeling I knew everywoman present was feeling in a greater or less degree, except perhapsSallie, for her face was a puzzle of sore amazement and a pleadingdesire for further sleep.

  "Have we or have we not?" Aunt Augusta again demanded, and just then amost wonderful thing happened!

  Jane stood in our midst!

  Oh, Jane, you were a miracle to me, but I must go on writing about itall calmly for the sake of the Five!

  I made a mad rush from my rocker to throw myself into her arms, but shestopped me with one glance of her cold, official eye that quelled me,and stood attention before Aunt Augusta.

  "Madam President," she said in her grandest parliamentary voice, "it wasby accident that I interrupted the proceedings of what I take to be anofficial meeting. Have I your permission to withdraw? I am Miss Shelby'sguest, Miss Mathers, and I can easily await her greetings until theadjournment of this body."

  Oh, Jane, and my arms just hungry for you!

  "Madam," answered Aunt Augusta, in her grandest manner and a voice sofilled with cordiality that I hardly knew it, "it is the pleasure of thechair to interrupt proceedings and to welcome you. Evelina, introduce usall!"

  It was all just glorious! I never saw anybody get a more lovely ovationthan Jane did from my friends, for they had all heard about her, readwith awe clippings I showed them about her speeches and--were aboutready for her.

  Sallie kissed her on both cheeks, Mamie laid the baby in her arms with adevout expression, and Nell clung to her with the rapture of the newlyproselyted in her face. Aunt Martha made her welcome in her dearestmanner and Caroline beamed on her with the return of a lot of the fireand spirit of the youth that hanging on the doled-out affections of LeeGreenfield had starved in her.

  And it was characteristic of Jane and her methods that it took much lesstime than it takes me to write it, for her to get all the greetings overwith, explain that she had sent me a letter telling me that she wascoming that must have gone astray, get everybody named and ticketed inher mind, and get us all back to business.

  Aunt Augusta explained the situation to her with so much feeling andeloquence that she swept us all off our feet, and when she was ready toput the question again to us as to our willingness to embark on ourdefiance of our fellow-townsmen, the answer of enthusiastic acquiescencewas ready for her.

  "Of course, as none of you have any official municipal status, theinvitation will have to be given informally, in a social way, to theCommission through Miss Shelby's friend, Mr. Richard Hall," said Jane,when Aunt Augusta had called on her to give us her opinion of thesituation in general and the mode of procedure. "We find it best in allwomen-questions of the present, to do things in a perfectly legal andparliamentary way."

  "Must we tell them about it or not?" asked Mamie, in a wavering voice,looking up devoutly at Jane, who had held young Ned against the stiffwhite linen shirt of her traveling dress just as comfortably as if hewere her own seventh.

  "Did they consult you before deciding to refuse your suggestion?" askedJane, calmly and thoughtfully.

  "They did not," trumpeted Aunt Augusta.

  "Then wouldn't it be the most regular way to proceed to get anacceptance of the invitation from the Commission and then extend themone to be present?" pronounced Jane, coolly, seemingly totallyunconscious that she was exploding; a bomb shell.

  "It would, and we will consider it so settled," answered Aunt Augusta,dominatingly.

  This quick and revolutionary decision gave me a shock. I could see thata woman doesn't like to feel that there is a stick of dynamitebetween her and a man, when she puts her head down under his chin or hercheek to his, but advanced women must suffer that. Still I'm glad thatthe Crag is on our side of the fence. I felt sorry for Mamie andCaroline--and Sallie looked a tragedy.

  In fact, a shade of depression was about to steal over the spirits ofthe meeting when Aunt Augusta luckily called for the discussion of plansfor the rally.

  Feeding other human beings is the natural, instituted, physiological,pathological, metaphysical, and spiritual outlet for a woman's nature,and that is why she is so happy when she gets out her family receiptbook for a called rehearsal for the functioning of her hospitality. Therevolution went home happy and excited over the martialing of theirflesh pots.

  I'm glad Jane is asleep across the hall to-night. If I had had toshoulder all this outbreak by myself I would have compromised byinstituting a campaign of wheedling, the like of which this town neversuffered before, and then when this glorious rally was finally pulledoff, the cajoled masculine population would have fairly swelled withpride over having done it!

  Of course, by every known test of conduct and economics, their attitudein the matter is entirely right. Men work to all given points instraight, clear-cut, logical lines only to find women at the point ofresults waiting for them, with unforeseen culminations, which wouldhave been impossible to them.

  And I am also glad the Crag is partly responsible for starting, or atleast unconsciously aiding, this scheme in high finance of mine; and heis also in reality the silent sponsor for this unhatched revolution. Iam deeply contented to go to sleep with that comforting; thought tuckedunder my pillow.