The comments of the wife when she found out the real significance of the “present” she had received, may be imagined. The value of the head would normally be about one third as much by the pound as the entire carcass.
CHAPTER II
Relating to Certain Conjugal Infelicities
The capacity of New England housewives for self-sacrificing devotion to family has been made evident by many a biographical history of favorite sons. When the father and mother are both united in the common purpose of giving their children opportunities which were perhaps almost wholly denied to themselves, it is seldom that serious conjugal differences arise.
But, unfortunately, there are some whose natural good intentions are easily undermined by their distaste for that monotony so commonly associated with carrying out any worth-while plan.
Why Dave Left Home
In a certain rural district there was a man known familiarly to his acquaintances as “Dave.” He had a wife and several children, also a small farm. To all appearances Dave and his rather unprepossessing appearing wife lived on amicable terms. Both were frugal, industrious, and regarded as well meaning people. Therefore it was with great surprise that the community learned that Dave had disappeared under circumstances that admitted of no doubt that he had acted deliberately.
Although badly upset by Dave’s unwarranted action, his wife was determined to keep her little family together and carry on the farm as a means of support. Admiring her grit the neighbors showed their kindness in many helpful ways and thus encouraged, the deserted family managed to complete the yearly cycle in tolerable comfort.
During all this time Dave’s disappearance was a continual source of conjecture to the neighborhood. Nothing had been heard of him since that early morning when he had been seen walking rapidly down the road a mile or two away from home.
One evening a man who lived on a farm adjoining the one now being conducted by Mrs. Dave, was reading the weekly newspaper. Suddenly there was a faint tapping at a nearby window. Laying down his paper the farmer proceeded to raise the sash. Seeing no one he asked who had rapped. There was a hesitating step forward and a shadowy figure appeared.
“Say,” said the visitor, “can’t you put on your hat and walk over home with me? It’s me, Dave. I’ve just got back and I’d feel a little easier about showing up to the Old Lady if you were along.”