Mrs. Joe

“ As he came slowly up the incline carrying the pail he saw a crowd about the door. For an instant he stood motionless, then dropped his pail and ran swiftly toward the house.
Was it—-could it be—news of—of Joe?
When he was nearly to the house one of the children leaping and capering about stepped aside, and he saw a tall, slender boyish figure clasped in his mother's arms. Lige, tall young pioneer that he was, almost fainted. When the world righted itself he gave a hoarse, hysterical shout and dashing forward precipitated himself into Joe's arms. ”

“ Oh, Joe, Joe, if I only had some one I could go to for advice! But no one will even listen to me seriously. There does n't seem anything left me but to marry this man. Father and George both think so highly of him, they will not hear a word spoken against him. I simply had to talk with some one, Joe, and let out my heart; that's why I came out here to you. Oh, I know you can't help me, but you're sorry for me, ain't you, old Joe? It helps just to know some one understands, and is sorry. ”

“ When she came to him he was still asleep. "Get up, my love," said she, "look after the threshers, the grooms, the oxen, and see that all do their work, and that all the work be done, and give your orders to the labourers; and now, my love, let us go into the house and see that all is right. You give your orders to the men-servants, and I will give mine to the maids. We have now enough to live on;" and Joe thanked God for His blessings. ”

“ Joe is wild and reckless, yet his heart is a well of gold. He is a diamond in the rough. Just now he is possessed by wild notions of hunting Indians and roaming through the forests; but he'll come round all right. I wish I could tell you how much he has done for me, how much I love him, how I know him! He can be made worthy of any woman. He will outgrow this fiery, daring spirit, and then—won't you help him?"
"I will, if he will let me," softly whispered Nell, irresistibly drawn by the strong, earnest love thrilling in his voice. ”

“ They were surprised that Joe, a popular man, should not have a truer sense of the fitness of things. They were less surprised at Mrs. Joe, who was not quite so popular. But Joe was a sensible fellow, and he should have seen to it that the child did not become the talk of the neighborhood.
Yet, after all, it may not have been so much the fault of Joe or of Eliza, his wife, that the child became the talk of the neighborhood. In the purview of local society, whose salon was Mrs. Connor’s, the greengrocer’s lady, at the end of the street, the blame lay at the door of Miss Sarah Allcock. ”

“ Joe's own set of boys and girls were heads of households now, and for the next younger set, Joe was too old. Young girls did not please him, partly perhaps, because he saw, or fancied, that they shrank a little from his aimless sleeve. By imperceptible degrees, vague thoughts began to form and float in Joe's mind, akin to thoughts which floated in Mrs, Bennet's before she wrote her letter; not tangible enough to be stated, or to be matter of distinct consciousness, never going further in words than "who knows;" but all the while drawing Joe slowly, surely toward Provincetown. ”

“ Joe was sent for, and came at once to know what was required of him. "My orders are these," replied the baron, "that you invite God to dinner on Palm Sunday to my house; if you do not your wife is lost." Poor Joe went out without saying good-bye, jumped into his carriage, and returned home dreadfully miserable. When his wife asked him what was the matter he told her of the baron's commands. "Go on," said his wife; "bring me that foal, the yearling, the most wretched one of all, put upon it an old saddle and silver harness on its head, and then get on its back." ”

“ I think I'd better get back and help Joe spend his eighteen a week in the little Clemmons house the way he wanted me to do."
"You couldn't do a better thing in the world," said Mary, patting her hand gently as they sat in the cosy little kitchen. "Your little town would be a finer place to bring up little Joes and little Henriettas than this big city, wouldn't it? And I don't believe the right Joe ever comes but once in a girl's life. There aren't many fellows who are willing to share eighteen a week with a girl in New York." ”

“ JOE. I may meet some one I used to know.
MARY. You've met them before—they always refuse—
JOE. [Passionately.] I've done nothing wrong—I haven't drunk or gambled—I can't help being only a clerk, and unable to do heavy work! I can't help my lungs being weak! I've a wife and a child, like other people—and all we ask is to be allowed to live!
MARY. [Pleading.] Let's give it up, Joe. Go away together, you'd sleep without coughing. Sleep, that's all. And God will be kinder than men. ”

“ And when Miss Joe herself came in with anxious inquiries about her health, and affectionate offers of tea and toast and jellies, she answered, with a bitter smile:
“Oh, be easy, dear friend; a little fasting will not hurt my flesh and blood!”
Day waned, and still she maintained her silent and thoughtful posture. Night came, and a servant entered with candles. The glare of light aroused her, and, looking up, she saw the dark face of the man turned ashen gray with fear. ”

“ She would have five shillings clear after paying tram fare. What a nice evening they would have, all the children singing! Only she hoped that Joe wouldn't come in drunk. He was so different when he took any drink.
Often he had wanted her to go and live with them; but she would have felt herself in the way (though Joe's wife was ever so nice with her) and she had become accustomed to the life of the laundry. Joe was a good fellow. She had nursed him and Alphy too; and Joe used often say:
"Mamma is mamma but Maria is my proper mother." ”

“ Ah, Joe, it will be many a Christmas before you are all there again.
[68]
CHAPTER V. GOOD LUCK FOR JOE. "Hooray!" said Joe, swinging the molasses jug over his head as if it had been a feather, or the stars and stripes on Fourth of July morning.
"O Joe!"
"Flossy, my darling, you are a poet sure; only poetry, like an alligator, must have feet, or it will lose its reputation. Here's your 'lasses, Granny; and what do you think? Something has actually happened to me! Oh, my! do guess quick!"
"You've been taken with the 'lirium"—and there Charlie paused, having been wrecked on a big word. ”

“ On the summit of one of the clay heaps, a woman shot into silhouette against the sky. An odd figure, clad in a skimpy green petticoat, with a scarlet shawl held about her shoulders, wisps of frowsy red hair standing out round her head, she balanced herself on the slippery earth, spinning her arm like the vane of a windmill, and crying at the top of her voice: "Joe, boys!--Joe, Joe, Joey!" ”

“ Now, Pip;" Joe looked firmly at me, as if he knew I was not going to agree with him; "your sister is a fine figure of a woman."
I could not help looking at the fire, in an obvious state of doubt.
"Whatever family opinions, or whatever the world's opinions, on that subject may be, Pip, your sister is," Joe tapped the top bar with the poker after every word following, "a—fine—figure—of—a—woman!" ”

“ Squire Nicodemus by the facetious Joe. And at the booth of Fawkes, Pinchbeck and Terwin, “distinguished from the rest by bearing English colours,” will be performed Britons Strike Home;. ** As if to redeem the habitual dulness of Joe Miller, one solitary joke of his stands on respectable authority. Joe, sitting at the window of the Sun Tavern in Clare Street, while a fish-woman was crying, “Buy my soles! Buy my maids!” exclaimed, “Ah! you wicked old creature; you are not content to sell your own soul, but you must sell your maid's too!” ”

“ Joe struggled valiantly to marshal his forces. To his mind, in quick succession, came the girls with whom he had gone to school--the sisters of the boys he knew, and those who were his sister's friends: slim girls and plump girls, tall girls and short girls, blue-eyed and brown-eyed, curly-haired, black-haired, golden-haired; in short, a procession of girls of all sorts and descriptions. But, to save himself, he could say nothing about them. Anyway, he 'd never been a "sissy," and why should he be expected to know anything about them? "All girls are alike," he concluded desperately. ”

“ Joe comes rushing in.
"I'm sorry, but the servant at the Dentons has cut her hand badly. Don't wait supper for me," he exclaims.
"Jim has not come in, and no one can tell when those children will be back. If the fair should keep open three months longer every one will be dead with fatigue. Yes, we'll wait. I am going to take some toast up to mother."
"The children!" Doctor Joe has a strange, guilty sort of feeling. What if to-night should bring her a new son, as some future night will bring her a new daughter?
Father Underhill sits on the front stoop reading his paper. ”

“ Joe! you are an angel!” I sobbed, dropping my head on his shoulder.
“Maybe I is,” the old man admitted, stiffly, edging away; “but if dere’s airy angel, w’ite or black, w’at likes ter hab hot coffee spilled ober his laigs, I ain’ nebber met up wid him!”
“I’ll get you another cup, Joe,” I said, laughing, as I brushed away my tears. While I was getting it, Jessie clung to his rough old hand.
“God bless you, Joe! Oh, you have lifted such a weight from my heart! I don’t know how to thank you; but Joe, we’ll pay it all back to you! We will, if it takes the place to do it!” ”

“ Consider Joe a moment; he is not the humblest figure in this chronicle: a tall, lithe young fellow, unmistakably Irish-American, with a bang of black hair across his forehead, and a humorous light in his dark eyes. His grin is captivating but we are conscious also of shrewdness in his face. (It took sharp sprinting to steal second when Joe had the ball in his hand!) ”

“ She had always liked the physical presentment of Joe, but it was a presentment of clothes, and she had thought the pleasingness of it due to the neatness and taste with which he dressed. She had never dreamed that this lurked beneath. It dazzled her. His skin was fair as a woman’s, far more satiny, and no rudimentary hair-growth marred its white lustre. ”

“ This feeling seemed to place between them in Joe’s mind a boundless gulf, across which he could offer her only the sympathy and assistance of a boy. There was nothing in his mind of sympathy from an equality of years and understanding, only the chivalric urging of succor to the oppressed.
“It’s a low-down way for a man to treat a woman, especially his wife,” said Joe, his indignation mounting at sight of her tears.
“Yes, and he’d whip you, too, if he dared to do it,” said she, sitting in Isom’s place at the end of the table, where she could look across into Joe’s face. ”

“ Don't be distressed, my daughter."
"But he is so naughty, father! he is so different from the other boys. Joe never used to play such tricks when he was little."
"The spring vacation will be over soon now, Ruth," said Sister Mary. "He is always better when he is at work, and there is so little for a boy to do just at this time of year."
"I left Joe trying to catch the poor creatures," said Ruth. "Here he comes now."
Joe, a tall lad of seventeen, entered with a face of tragedy.
"Any harm done, Joseph?" asked Father Golden, glancing at the portrait on his desk. ”

“ Joe bowed.
"Where do you sleep?"
"In the Hopi House." [Pg 162]
"What do you eat?" She eyed him through her lorgnette.
"Most everything, madam," Joe managed to say.
Luckily she departed before we lost control of ourselves. Joe says that he has been asked every question in the category, and then some. I think some of our stage idols and movie stars would be jealous if they could see the number of mash notes Joe receives. He is flattered and sought after and pursued by society ladies galore. ”

“ JOE. No one followed you?
MARY. No one. I couldn't run, as I had to carry Minnie.
JOE. What made you do it?
MARY. I don't know—something in me did it—She put the purse down just by the side of my hand—my fingers clutched it before I knew—and I was out in the street.
JOE. How much is there in it?
MARY. I haven't looked, Joe.
JOE. [Wondering.] You haven't looked?
MARY. No; I didn't dare.
JOE. [Sorrowfully.] I didn't think we'd come to this, Mary.
MARY. [Desperately.] We've got to do something. Before we can earn any money at making matchboxes we'll have to spend some weeks learning. ”

“ It was the pride of Ugly Joe. The stiff hairs descended like a host of simitar-shaped bristles far-past his lower lip and at either side the mustache jagged down in points which swept far below his chin. He was like a man in a perpetual mask. If he had shaved not even his wife would have known him. Patricia, however, was undismayed. She advanced with her suit-case and claimed relationship.
Ugly Joe parted his mustache, spat over the forward wheel of the buckboard, considered her a silent moment, and then touched the brim of his sombrero by way of salutation. ”

“ I remarked to Joe one day, taking advantage of the opportunity offered by his stopping the team to wipe away the perspiration that was streaming down my face. For the day was very warm, and we had been working steadily.
“If mon’tonus means hot, honey chile, I reckons yo’s right,” responded Joe. “Yo’s purty face is a sight to behole; red as a turkey cock’s comb, hit is, an’ dat streaked wif dirt dat dey doan nuffin’ show natteral but yo’ eyes.” ”

“ Joe's conscience smote him at once, and as soon as service was ended away he flew to the village post-office, spelling out as he went the address on the envelope; which, when he found [49] was no sweetheart, but only a young lady, he concluded could be a letter of no consequence, and determined on saying nothing about its lying so long neglected in his pocket of his Sunday's best. ”