Mrs. Wilson Woodrow

“ Strength must surely come from these hills."
"Well," replied Mrs. Thomas, not vaingloriously, but as if stating a fact, "we cert'ny done our best by this place. Nobody can say we ain't tried to give it an air of refinement. We four, Mis' Evans, Mis' Nitschkan, Mis' Landvetter, an' myself has always hung together since we come here, an' if folks ain't done what was right we've usually had the strength to make 'em, one way or another, an' took no back talk either."
Carrothers looked slightly puzzled. "There are some rare spiritual natures here," he continued. ”

“ Public opinion varied: "There bein' only two unmarried girls in Zenith, Susie and Mrytle, an' Marthy Thomas, our only widow, engaged, it makes it some exciting," remarked the village Solon from his chair in the assayer's office. "Of course, it narrers it down to a race between Susie and Mrytle, or, to put things as they is—its Myrtle an' Myrtle's maw against Mis' Evans's will an' grit. ”

“ Evans, "that this 'll be the last time I wear myself to skin and bones to get any girl married. I ask you, Mis' Thomas, if Susie Hazen has ever said more than 'yes, sir,' an' 'no, sir,' to preacher, an' if she ain't et like a wolf at every tea-party we given 'em? Now, you know as well as I do that no girl's goin' to get a house an' home, husband and children actin' that way. I will say for Myrtle, she certainly is enterprisin'."
"How true it is," sighed Mrs. Thomas, "that God helps those that helps theirselves. ”

“ Thomas alone retained her poise.
"Ain't they the critters for you!" she exclaimed, gazing admiringly at Carrothers's back. "There's two games they can sure beat us at—poker an' love. Here was Mrytle an' Mis' Evans raisin' each other to the limit, an' preacher had cold-decked 'em from the start." ”

“ Thomas. "My patience! Ain't it something beautiful the way we take on when accidents happen to them; an' what do they do for us in pain or grief? I 've seen a man set with his feet up on the kitchen stove, readin' a newspaper, an' never turnin' a hair while his wife was screamin' herself black in the face with the strikes, in the next room. Cheer up, Myrtle, they ain't no man worth it."
"Frank is," sobbed Myrtle. ”

“ And you jus' see," as she parted from Frances Benson at the door of the cabin, "if I don't teach Frank McGuire what flirtin' is."
Miss Benson looked anxiously after the girl as she started down the hill, a brimming pail of berries on either arm. Then placing her own fruit on the ground, she ran down the trail after the younger woman. "Myrtle," she said, in a voice which trembled, "don't try to get even with Frank, remember his provocation. Sometimes whims like that spoil a woman's whole life. Make it up, Myrtle."
Myrtle put her hands affectionately on the missionary's shoulders and laughed. ”

“ Her man's one of the best miners in the camp, an' he's got to go down and bring out mine."
Mrs. Evans, completely in the power of the younger and larger woman, had merely cocked her bird-like head and gazed at her with cool defiance; but now her expression changed. In the world, so in Zenith. The eternal feminine knows modifications, but no change. There had been warfare between Myrtle and herself ”

“ Thomas frankly at the Wednesday afternoon meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society, "I do' know if you're just on the right track. 'Course," sighing, "we got to recognize that bacon and greens is more to a brute of a man, than the gentle influence of woman; but you got to remember that he's young, and ain't made such a god of victuals as they do when they 're older. ”

“ It's easy to forgive those we love."
"No it ain't," said Myrtle sharply. "They 're the ones it's the hardest to forgive." She shut her lips. and with a toss of the head turned busily to her berry picking.
"Say, Missioner," after an interval of silence, and in a burst of what Miss Benson regarded as reprehensible levity, "the preacher's awful nice, ain't he?"
"He is very pleasant," replied Frances Benson coldly.
"Frank's terrible jealous of him." Myrtle made the statement with undisguised pride.
The missionary was genuinely shocked. "Myrtle! How can you accept Mr. ”

“ Evans shortly. "She's got a plenty beaux now. Susie's goin' to have this chance."
Meanwhile, the unconscious object of this discussion, the Rev. Hugh Carrothers, had lingered to assist Miss Benson, the missionary, in gathering up the hymn-books and closing and locking the windows and door of the church. These tasks accomplished, he hastened to join the little group by the roadside and turn with them into the trail through the pines, which, Mrs. Evans explained, was a short cut to her door. ”

“ This exposition of an essentially feminine point of view occasioned no surprise among her sympathizers.
"That's the way we all feel when it comes to our man, no matter how cranky he may be, or our kids, no matter how devilish they are," murmured Mrs. ”