Mrs. Wilson Woodrow

“ MacMillan extended himself like a cat in his chair, and almost purred.
“Now, Perfessor, that you've learnt the truth of this matter,” said Mrs. Evans, speaking with emphasis, “I'm a comin' out fair ar' square, to tell you how much I want you with us. I know you 're a friend of Dave's, an' maybe you think that because Birdie's been a cuttin' around with him, p'rhaps she likes him better than Harris; but all girls is that way, if they get the chance. Truth is, Perfessor, your man's sense ain't good in a case like this. We're women, an' we know the ways of women. ”

“ But it's a shame. Birdie Green is too nice a girl to get such a skunk. A nice, good girl an' pretty too. Yes, I always thought Birdie was——”
“Well,” asked MacMillan leaning forward with a sparkle of fun in his somber eyes, “why do not you——”
Bascum gazed at him a moment with a dawning apprehension of his meaning and then fell back in his chair with a sudden burst of laughter.
“By Gad, I 'll do it!” smiting his knee, “I 'll fix his clock for him. Since they 're making Birdie Green a campaign issue, I don't see what copyright Creamer's got on her. ”

“ Birdie Green is jus' so scared for fear that she's goin' to hoo-doo Harris Creamer's chances that she's workin' to have the lightning strike the other man.”
“I had not thought of that,” said MacMillan seriously. “You have really presented a new view of the matter to me, Mrs. Evans.”
“It's true as gospel, Perfessor,” fervently corroborated Mrs. Thomas. “Birdie Green's a noble girl, an' we all got to rally at the polls fer her. Drat you, Nitschkan, you know I don't take sugar in my tea.” ”

“ Then when Slim Barker passed away with the tyfroid, three days before him an' Birdie was to been married, you all remember how it was, there was n't a black skirt in the camp, an' Mis' Barker had to keep the dye-pot boilin' the whole day before the funeral to get her an' Birdie skirts to wear.
“'Now, Birdie,' I says, 'let this be a lesson to you. Always keep a good black dress on hand. ”

“ Thomas. “Mayor Harris Creamer an' Birdie Green as big as life on 'em.”
“Gosh A'Mighty! Birdie's got no right to make a scandal like this,” cried Mrs. Nitschkan emphatically. “Her duty's as plain as the nose on her face. The Bishop he says to me when he come down from the Range las' week:
“'Zenith's got a pretty little romance on hand now. It isn't often that love an' politics go hand in hand.'
“Then I passed by Mis' Creamer's this morning. ”

“ Nitschkan, slapping her heartily on the back. “You just go right along an' do that. But see here, girls, there's a new vote in the camp to be looked after.”
“Who iss dat?” asked Mrs. Landvetter, leaning against the fence like a great feather bolster.
“That 'Lunger' that's been here all winter, takin' the open air cure—that magpie, with his black hair, an' eyes an' clothes, an' his white face an' shirt. A bot'nist, they call him. Well, he's awful thick with Dave Bascum.”
“I don't care how thick he is with him, so long as he don't vote for him,” said Mrs, Evans with determination. ”

“ That this was no idle boast, and that these ladies had not been inept scholars in the school of practical politics may be adduced from the fact that shortly after this conversation took place one of the Scions of the village summed up the situation with due finality from his cane-seated chair in Tom Houston's assaying office.
“As far as I can see,” he announced oracularly, “Harris Creamer's got the matter cinched. The bossy women in this camp is determined to see Birdie Green married an' settled; and this is her chance. Maybe Harris ain't the fellow we would have chose for her ”

“ Get it of nice stuff an' make it nice, an' it will do to wear to the dance, an' if anything does come up, you'll have it.' Sure enough, when Tom Ward was drivin' that load of ore down 'Excelsior' an' the brake broke an' the horses run an' poor Tom got his head whacked against a tree, she was ready for the occasion. ”