With older people courtship is different. They plead and arrange their own affairs, usually without the assistance of a third party. As I have watched these marriages, I could not help but think that they turn out as happily as in any other section. Divorces, formerly so common, are now far less frequent, and when the people marry it is usually for life, most couples living together happily until parted by death.
XXII
THE WOOING OF BILLY FISHTAIL
There was a bond of sympathy between Billy and myself, for I had looked upon him as a permanent bachelor, and he was always such a reliable fellow. If I set him to whittling a bit of wood or to sawing a board, he was sure soon to apply for a bandage to stop the flow of blood from a wound. On trying to bore a hole through a board with a sharpened knitting-needle, only the bone of his second finger prevented the instrument from passing through that also. Even with the axe he was an expert; lifting it high to take a vigorous blow he would bring the back down on his own head, and rush for aid.
He was very faithful, however, and nothing seemed to make him so happy as to be doing what he thought would give me pleasure. Some one had informed Billy that far away in the States, the singing on Sundays was accompanied by an organ, so on the following Sunday Billy brought his small accordion to church and tried to accompany the singers. He had not practiced the tunes, and there seemed to be a difference between the drums of his ears, for one would catch a tune one way while the other gave a different interpretation. The accordion could not please both ears, so it squeaked and wheezed out an air of its own.
At last a time came when it was evident that a change was coming over Billy. He was growing more particular in his personal appearance, and was even trying to learn how to whistle.
Just about the same time, rumor said that the widow Okpoktoah had been seen running around the village trying to procure the loan of a cake of soap. It looked very suspicious, but Billy would not admit anything. He would simply hang his head and grin. Then the cook came one morning with the information that Billy had been seen very late the previous evening talking earnestly with the widow at her iglo.
Time has now rolled along and Billy is very happy for he owns the widow, yet those gossiping neighbors will persist in saying that Billy is not finding his nights quite as restful as formerly, for his little daughter has a very imperative way of ordering him to take a walk during those hours of the night when sleep seems the most refreshing.