Martha By-the-Day

r flat that night, she was welc

some big plummy buns to cheer you up. And I've got some good news for you besides. I didn't mean to tell right off, but I just can't keep in for another minute. I've got a job

in a comfortable Morris chair before the lighted oil-stove, from whose pierced iron to

lace, and how I was clever enough to get it after I'd applied! You don't look a bit pleased and excited over it, you bad Martha! And you ought to be so glad, because I won't need to spend anything like all the money I'll get. I'm to have my home

n' uncomplainin', till I giv' you the sign? Didn't I say I had my eye on a job for you that was a job worth talkin' about? One that'd be satisfactry all around. Well, then! An' here you are

, Ma

more words. The thing

o weeks are two weeks, and I can't go on indefinitely staying here, and getting so deep in debt I'll never be able to get out again. And I saw this advertisement in The Outlook. 'Twas for a college graduate to teach High School English in a girls' boarding-school, and I went

stylish an' rich, as full of airs as a music-box, snubbin' the teacher because they're too ignorant to know how smart she has to be, to get any knowledge into their stupid heads, an' the Principal always eyein' you like a minx, 'less you might be wastin' her precious time an' not earnin' the elegant sal'ry she gives you, includin' your home an' laundry. O my! I know a thing or two about them schools, an' a few other places. No, Miss Claire, dear, it wo

er a while (not to seem to make you too cheap, or not to look like I was jumpin' down her throat)

to-morrer, to talk to her, an' let her look you over. An' if you're the kind o' stuff she wants, she'll take a half-a-dozen yards o' you, which is the kind o' way those folks has with peop

bled, "you told me Radcl

e's a good little fella enough, as little fellas goes. When you know how to handle'm-which is right side up with care. Him an' me come to an

s going to be so satisfactory all 'round?" inquired Claire, her misgi

Sherman, who'll pay you well, an' won't be too skittish if you just keep a firm hand on her. This mornin' she got discoursin' about everythin' under the canopy, from nickel-plated bathroom fixin's, an' marble slobs, to that

ed. I don't dare look at the clock, it's so late. Good-night, you good

l instead. She knew her feeling was childish. Suppose Radcliffe were to be unruly, why, how could she tell that the girls in the Schoharie school might not prove even more so? The fact was, she argued, she had unconsciously allowed herself to be prejudiced against Mrs. Sherman and the boy, by Martha's whimsical accounts of them, good-natured as the

ack to her, not from anything altogether terrible. On the contrary, something rather alluring, but so unfamiliar that she had shrunk back from it, protesting, resisting. What was it? Claire suddenly broke into a smothered little laugh and covered her face with her hands, before the vision of herself, squawking madly, like a startled chicken, and running away from "big" handsome, twelve-year-old Bob

foolish outburst would disturb no one. She could cry and cry, and run and run,

paused and listened. Again and again came the muffled sounds, and, at last, so distinct

a deep rumble, as of a

Martha, what is it, O, what is it?" for Mrs. Slawson had appeared in her own doorway, and was

goes on a toot, he comes back an' wallops his wife for it. Go to bed,

ig Sam Slawson from

u, my dear. It ain't y

an' go

when, if she'd an ounce o' sense, she could keep him stickin' so close at home, a capcine plaster wouldn't be in it. Then, when he comes home, a little the worse for wear, she ups an' reproaches 'm, which, God knows, that ain't no time to argue with a man. You don't want to argue with a fella when he's so. You just want to _tell_m'. Tell'm with the help of a broomstick if you want to, but _tell'_m, or leave'm alone. An' it's bad for the childern-all this is-it's b

Sam Slawson. "You can't break into

ou watch me close, an'

to the courts, if she's got any kick comin'. But it's not my business to go interfer

ed an energ

But there ain't no mention made o' w

a couple of strides, and beat her knuckles s

the way up, was festooned with white-cl

e in your nightgown! You can't go round

only reply. Her keen ear, pressed against the panel, heard nothing in response but an oath, foll

against the door, braced her

e into the Langbeins' flat, into the Langbeins' bedroom. There he saw her resolutely march up to the irate German, swing him suddenly a

ou are! A fine neighbor you are! Just let me hear a peep out of you, an' I'll thrash you this minit to within a inch of your life. I don't need no law nor no policeman to keep the peace in any house where I live. I can keep the peace myself, if I have to lick every te

at Martha's hardihood. His mighty bulk, however, seeming to supplement

f your old man, if he should ever dare lay finger to you again. I don't mind a friendly scrap oncet in a while with a neighbor. My muscles is good for more than your fat, beer-drinkin' Dutchman's any day. Let him up an' try 'em oncet, an' he'll se

ing had passed into a spasmodic s

, Mis' Slawson. He's a

rt ven he vips me, un

eart I'm worryin' about. If he don'

ot vife to him. I ten

a dryly. "But suppose you just try the

m for ein tcent already. I ain't drouble him mit pills off of de grocer oder de putcher, oder anny-von. I makes launtry efery veek for some

an' walk straight like a little man. Let him lend a hand with the dooty-business, for a change. It'll take his attention off'n himself, give'm a rest from thinkin' he's an angel, an' that you hired out, when you married'm, to shout 'Glory!' every time he flaps a wing! That sort o' thing ain't healthy for men. It don't agree with their constitutions-An' now, good-night to y