"I would never consent," said Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.
"Oh, yes, you would if you had been raised a Mormon," said our hostess. "You see, we were all of us children of polygamous parents. We have been used to plural marriages all our lives. We believe that such experience fits us for our after-life, as we are only preparing for life beyond while here."
"Do you expect to go to heaven, and do you think the man who married you and then discarded you will go to heaven too?" asked Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.
"Of course I do," she replied.
"Then," said Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, "I am afraid if it had been mysilf I'd have been after raising a little hell here intirely."
Our hostess was not offended, and there followed a long recital of earlier-day hard times that you would scarcely believe any one could live through. It seems the first wife in such families is boss, and while they do not live in the same homes, still she can very materially affect the other's comfort.
Mrs. O'Shaughnessy asked her if she had married again.
She said, "No."
"Then," said Mrs. O'Shaughnessy, "whose children are these?"
"My own," she replied.