The old lady had no soul for trifles. She intoned, like conscience
that will not be slain: “_Where’s your wife?_”
But I said in my heart: “Madam, you are only a suspender button upon
the necklace of the evening.”
V
“PAPA HAS COME!”
There was a scurry and a flutter. Gretchen threw down her dish-rag,
leaving Grandma a plate to wipe.
I heard the grandfather say, “Wel-come, son, wel-come indeed!” The
young wife gave a smothered shriek, and then in a minute I heard her
exclaim, “John, you’re a scamp!”
I put on my hot shoes and went in to see what this looked like.
Gretchen-Cecilia was somewhere between them, and then on her father’s
shoulder, mussing his hair. And the mother took Gretchen down, as John
said in reply to a question:--
“Business is good. Whether there’s oil or not, I dig the hole and get
paid.”
This man was now standing his full height for his family to admire.
He was one I too could not help admiring. He had an open sunburned
face, and I thought that behind it there was a non-scheming mind, that
had attained good fortune beyond the lot of most of the simple. He was
worth the dressing up the family had done for him, and almost worthy of
Gretchen’s extra crisp hair ribbons.
His wife put her arms around his neck and whispered something,
evidently about me. He watched me over his shoulder as much as to say:--
“And so it’s a stray dog wants shelter? No objections.”
He unwrapped his package. It was an extraordinary doll, with truly
truly hair, and Gretchen-Cecilia had to give him seven kisses and
almost cry before he surrendered it.
He pulled off his boots and threw them in the corner, then paddled
up stairs and came down in his shoes. For no reason at all
Gretchen-Cecilia and her mother chased him around the kitchen table
with a broom and a feather duster, and then out on to the back porch.