In those two years she had helped John to start a home. She couldn't operate soap-kettles and candle-molds and looms and smokehouses and salting-tubs and spinning-wheels for him. But she brought him an equivalent of it in money. She earned from $900 to $1000 a year.
Being married, they were more thrifty. They saved a large part of her earnings. John was still spending a large part of his on extending his business, on traveling, on entertaining prospective clients, on making acquaintances. Sometimes she had to contribute some of her own money to his expense accounts. That was the fortune of war. She helped him pursue success.
"I wouldn't give up the memory of these two years," Mary used to say, as she sat and stitched for her children, "for anything. I shared at least a part of my husband's youth."
By sharing it, she won a certain happiness otherwise unattainable. They had come to know each other and to help form each other's characters and to share each other's difficulties in the years when only there is real joy in the struggle of life. They had not postponed their love till, with a settled income, John could support her in comfort and they could look back like Browning's middle-aged estranged lovers to say:
We have not sighed deep, laughed free,
Starved, feasted, despaired,—been happy.
"It used to take two to start a home in colonial days," Mary would say. "I am really an old-fashioned woman. I helped to make this home. We had twelve hundred dollars in the bank when I stopped working, and John was pretty well established.
"I don't regret it," she went on, still speaking as a woman of the future, "even for the children. Of course I do wish we had started earlier. But I would have wanted to wait a while for the children in any case. People risk too much when they start a family before they become sufficiently used to marriage and to each other to know that they can keep on loving each other and to know that they have in them through their mutual, continued happiness the power to make a happy home, a noble home, for children to live in."
As for the number of children she will have—we reserve that subject to a future article. We call attention here only to this:
That the facts which were cited from the Smith College records are harmonious with many other facts and records tending to show that the fertility of the modern wife has been considerably underrated, just as the fertility of the colonial wife has been considerably exaggerated.
And this: