Mrs. Wilson Woodrow

“ O'Donnell—I mean Nitschkan?" Steadily, mercilessly, she held her tormentor's eyes while the gipsy gazed at her as if fascinated. Thus challenged, Mrs. Nitschkan's face went white, her lids drooped, and her defiant figure grew limp and nerveless; but the missionary was implacable. "Strange that I should have used that name!" she ruminated. "It belonged to a man I used to know in Arizona, and met in Denver a week ago. He was searching for some trace of the wife who had deserted him several years back, taking with her his watch and five hundred dollars in money. He has never divorced her!" ”

“ The Missionary struck the mountain woman across the face. "You're a liar!" cried the daughter of the slums. There ensued a moment of fierce tussle, while the onlookers collapsed in hysterics, with the exception of tiny Mrs. Evans. That intrepid soul hurled herself into the fray, and, seizing Mrs. Nitschkan by the arm, dragged her around.
"Are you crazy?" she cried. "Fer God's sake, stop poundin' her! Darn you, Nitschkan, don't you know us ladies is got some social position to keep up? Now stop it, I say! Missioner ain't goin' to say nothin' outside if we fall in with her ”

“ Nitschkan cowered in her chair, pulling with trembling fingers at her torn coat sleeve. Then, throwing her apron over her head, she broke into wild sobbing, which alternated with a rasping and mirthless laughter.
"The 'strikes,'" said Mrs. Evans composedly, pouring boiling water into the teapot. "It'll be a relief fer her; jes' let her be."
"How'd ever we poor women bear our lives if it wasn't fer 'em?" murmured Mrs. Thomas. "Lay off your hat, Miss Benson," she continued, in a voice which was as oil. "How's your health, now? ”

“ For a moment she surveyed Frances, and then threw the door wider open.
"Come in, won't you, Missioner," bowing with ironical and punctilious courtesy. "Us ladies is jus' a-sittin' here, chattin'. Choose yer chair, Missioner. I guess you know the ladies present."
The women referred to occupied chairs drawn close to the stove, and were to all appearances enjoying the refreshment of both tea and coffee. Behold the redoubtable Mrs. Evans sitting among her prime ministers—a tiny, black-eyed creature to whom the languors of her larger sisters were foreign. ”

“ Landvetter, to cover her embarrassment, arose and, lifting the coffee-pot with fine nonchalance, poured her cup so full that it brimmed over and ran down into the saucer in streaky rivulets.
But a Thomas to the rescue! "I s'pose you ain't been long enough in Zenith, Miss Benson," addressing the Missionary with suave and considerate interest, "to catch on to the way the boys feel about havin' a woman preacher. It'll be pretty hard fer you right along. One of the boys was a-sayin' to me to-day, he says——"
The steel of Frances Benson flashed in the air and stabbed squarely. ”

“ Nitschkan, stimulated by her success, and still gasping with laughter, "you remember that schoolteacher—nasty, stuck-up thing—I couldn't stand her from the first! No more could you, Mis' Evans; nor you, Mis' Thomas. So I told Celia to cut up as many monkey tricks as she pleased at school. Well, one day she come home cryin'. 'Mommy,' she says, 'I can't go back to school no more. ”

“ But if she's sure back, we'll have some fun, for I'm tellin' you, Walt, Mis' Nitschkan an' her friends won't have her. They say they don't want no woman missionary nosin' around this camp. Mis' Thomas said yesterday that it was a matter of principle with 'em; that they didn't believe it was possible for a woman to bring the tidings of salvation. ”