Chapter XVIII
Wash-Tub Philosophy
"I've been up to me neck in soap-suds ever sense daybreak, an' I ain't
done yit."
So declared Mrs. Stickles as she wiped her hands upon her apron and
offered a chair to her visitor, Betsy McKrigger.
"I'm rale glad to see ye, nevertheless," she continued, "fer it's been a
month of Sundays sense I sot eyes on ye last. How've ye been? An' yer old
man, is he well?"
"Only fairly," replied Mrs. McKrigger, laying aside her bonnet and shawl,
and taking the proffered chair. "Abraham went to the mill this mornin' an'
I came this fer with 'im. We were clean out of flour, an', although the
roads are bad, there was no help fer it, so he had to go, poorly as he is.
He'll stop fer me on his way back."
"An' what's wrong with 'im?" asked Mrs. Stickles, going back to her
washing.
"The doctor thinks he's got delapitation of the heart. Abraham was never
very strong there, and suffers most after eatin'. I'm gittin' very nervous
about 'im."
"Oh, is that all?" and Mrs. Stickles paused in her work. "I wouldn't worry
about that. Mebbe he eats too much. Men's hearts an' stummicks are purty
closely kernected, an' what affects the one affects t'other.
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