The wife’s eyes were luminous. “Ain’t he!” said she. “It ’most seems wicked for him to be farming when he can do things like that—”
“Why does he farm?”
“It’s his health. He caynt stand the climate East.”
“You are from the South yourself, I take it?”
“Yes, sir, Arkansas, though I don’t see how ever you guessed it. I met Mist’ Brown there, down in old Lawrence. I was teaching school then, and went to have my picture taken in his wagon. Went with my father, and he was so pleasant and polite to paw I liked him from the start. He nursed paw during his last sickness. Then we were married and came out here—You’re looking at that picture of little Davy at the well? I like that the best of all the ten; his little dress looks so cute, and he has such a sweet smile; and it’s the only one has his hair smooth. I tell Mist’ Brown I do believe he musses that child’s hair himself—”
“Papa make Baby’s hair pitty for picture!” cried the child, delighted to have understood some of the conversation.
“He’s a very pretty boy,” said Amos. “’Fraid to come to me, young feller?”
But the child saw too few to be shy, and happily perched himself on the tall man’s shoulder, while he studied the pictures. The mother appeared as often as the child.
“He’s got her at the best every time,” mused the observer; “best side of her face, best light on her nose. Never misses. That’s the way a man looks at his girl; always twists his eyes a little so as to get the best view. Plainly she’s in love with him, and looks remarkably like he was in love with her, damn him!” Then, with great civility, he asked Mrs. Brown what developer her husband used, and listened attentively, while she showed him the tiny dark room leading out of the apartment, and exhibited the meagre stock of drugs.
“I keep them up high and locked up in that cupboard with the key on top, for fear Baby might git at them,” she explained. She evidently thought them a rare and creditable collection. “I ain’t a bit afraid of Johnny D.; he’s sensible, and, besides, he minds every word Mist’ Brown tells him. He sets the world by Mist’ Brown; always has ever since the day Mist’ Brown saved him from drowning in the eddy.”