But on another hill, another couple in the midst of a flock of children attracted by one of Mr. Brotherton’s smashing laughs, looked down and saw Lila and Kenyon. The quick 475eyes of love caught the meaning of the figures under the tree.
“Look, mamma–look,” said Nathan Perry, pointing toward the tree.
“Oh, Nate,” cried Anne, “–isn’t it nice! Lila and Kenyon!”
“Well, mamma–are you happy?” asked Nathan, as he leaned against the tree beside her. She nodded and directed their glances to the children and said gently, “And they justify it–don’t they?”
He looked at her for a moment, and said, “Yes, dear–I suppose that’s what the Lord gave us love for. That is why love makes the world go around.”
“And don’t the people who don’t have them miss it–my! Nate, if they only knew–if these bridge-playing, childless ones knew how dear they are–what joy they bring–just as children–not for anything else–do you suppose they would–”
“Oh, you can’t tell,” answered the young father. “Perhaps selfish people shouldn’t have children; or perhaps it’s the children that make us unselfish, and so keep us happy. Maybe it’s one of those intricate psychical reactions, like a chemical change–I don’t know! But I do know the kids are the best things in the world.”
She put her hand in his and squeezed it. “You know, Nate, I was just thinking to-day as I put up the lunch–I’m a mighty lucky woman. I’ve had all these children and kept every one so far; I’ve had such joy in them–such joy, and we haven’t had death. Even little Annie’s long sickness, and everything–Oh, dear, Nate–but isn’t she worth it–isn’t she worth it?”
He kissed her hand and replied, “You know I’m so glad we went down to South Harvey to live, Anne. I can see–well, here’s the way it is. Lots of families down there–families that didn’t have any more to go on than we had then, started out, as we did. They had a raft of kids–” he laughed, “just as we did. But, mamma–they’re dead–or worse, they’re growing up underfed, and are hurrying into the works or the breaker bins. I tell you, Anne–here’s the thing. Those fathers and mothers didn’t have any more money than 476we had–but we did have more and better training than they had. You knew better than to feed our kids trash, you knew how to care for them–we knew how to spend our little, so that it would count. They didn’t. We have ours, and they have doctors’ and undertakers’ bills. It isn’t blood that counts so much–as the difference in bringing up. We’re lovers because of our bringing up. Otherwise, we’d be fighting like cats and dogs, I’d be drinking, you’d be slommicking around in wrappers, and the kids would be on the streets.”
The children playing on the gravel bank were having a gay time. The mother called to them to be careful of their clothes, and then replied: