“He expects it.”
“I can’t help that.”
“Good for you, Mrs. Tarbox. Don’t let him impose upon you. He’s too mean to live.”
The next Monday Seth Tarbox went out to his farm work in a complacent frame of mind. His wife had said nothing of the washing, and he concluded that when she found Nancy absent, she would turn to and do the whole herself. But when he returned to dinner he looked in vain for the clothes line.
“You’re late about your washin’, Mrs. T.,” he said, as he entered the kitchen.
“I am not going to wash, Mr. Tarbox.”
“How’s that? You can’t get along without having the clothes washed.”
“I intend to wash my own, but I don’t propose to do the rest.”
“Wh-what?” ejaculated Seth, in dismay.
“You have taken it upon yourself to discharge Nancy. If the clothes remain unwashed, you are responsible.”