WHEN THE WORM TURNED.

Otago Witness, Issue 2516, 4 June 1902, Page 74

WHEN THE WORM TURNED.

(By C B. Lewis, in the Boston Globe.) When David Tripp had been coming to see Linda, daughter of William Oliver, for three months or more, he said to her one evening as they sat side by side on a log at the door of her father's Arkansas cabin : "Linda, I'm a-wamtin' of yo 1 to be my wife. Do yo' abide?" "I reckon," she replied, in an indifferent way. "Then I'll speak to yo'r pop." He loved her in a way, and he believed that in a way his love was returned. There had been no kissing, no soft words, no courting, as other folks understand it. He had simply "come over" and sa* beside her, and slapped at mosquitoes and talked of the chills and the weathei, and had now and then had a few words to say to the father and mother about coons and 'possums and the poor corn crop. "Yes, I'll speak to yo'r pop," he said, as he rose up. But the girl stayed him with a motion of her hand, and .quietly said : "Dave, ar' yo' gwine to beat me, same as all the rest of the men around yere beat their winunin?" "Reckon so,' he replied. "But I want to tell yo' befo' we git married that yyoyo'' — yo' hadn't better." "Why?" "Kase I won't abide it." "Shoo ! Shoo !" "Kase if yo' ever wallop me I'll dun have yo'r life for suah." "Then mebbe I won't," he said, as he turned away to seek the father. The next day they were married, and Linda M-ent to the new "shack," three miles away, to live. They were probably as happy as the averagt squatter bride and groom, and had it not been foi one thing Dave might have smiled oftener. Linda had warned him before his marria.ge that he must not beat her. Wife-beating, at least in that community, was a common thing, and most of the women submitted to it without protest. No squatter felt his position as "boss" secure unless he had applied the rod to his wife's back. Dave had been advised by his father and grandfather to fall into line, and when a month had gone by, and he could not say that he had yet beaten his bride, he was in danger of being looked down upon in jontempt. There had been no cause to strike her, and yet it rankled that she had warned and defied him. He thought the thing over until he finally got to feel that he must either switch her or give up any claim to being the head of the house, md he set the day and hour of her humiliation. She was sweeping the dirt floor with a broom made of twigs when he entered the cabin with a switch ix> his hand, and said : j "Linda, I'm goin' to wallop yo'." j "What fur?'' she asked. "Jest to wallop. Come over yere." "Dave, do yo remember what I dun told yo' befo' we was married?" she asked, as she stood before him. "Reckon I do, but that don't count." "Better not." "Shoo ! Shoo !" And he seized her arm with his left hand and heM her in place while he used the switch over her shoulders until it was w orn ou t . She did not struggle or cry out. With pale face and set teeth she took her punishment a? if insensible to pain, but there was a look in her eyes that made the young husband uneasy. He tried to make himseK believe that he had done his duty, and that the whipping would in some way have a great moral effect on the freckle-faced woman who had received it, but he came to almost wi&h he hadn't done it. Even when his father praised him for the stand he had taken the words aroused no gratification, and when his mother added that Linda w ouldn't feel above her betters now, Dave winced at the thought of her humiliation. As for her threat, he scarcely gave it a thought. j Linda was quiet, even spoken, and ap- ! peared to be without temper. He did not kucat human. Miuie. jy£il smmak ta kum_

that such people are the most cruel and unforgiving. Three days passed, and there had beeii no outbreak. The husband could not tell from Linda's looks and actions whether she had been humbled or still defied him. Then he woke up one morning to find himself tied hand and foot to the bed. Linda had prepared breakfast, and sat djvrn to it alone.

"What's this fussin' about ?"' demanded Dave, as he found himself helpless. "Tied up," briefly replied Linda. "But what fur?" "Kase I'm gwine to have yo'r life fur wal'.opin' me. I dun told yo'." The man was no coward, even though a wife-beater. His cheek paled and his blood chilled at her words. She spoke without passion, and there was cause for fear. • "And yo'r gwine to kill me?" he asked, as she ate her food -without the slightest sign of nervousness. "Fur shore. I dun told yo', but yo' walloped me." "But don't my pop (wallop? Don't yo'r pop wallop? Don't Jim Renshaw and Tom Carter and Joe Hazen wallop?" "Makes no difference." "Then I'm sorry."

"Makes no difference."

Dave saw that Linda was implacable. Even with the chill of fear at his heart he had to smile at her originality. Here was a squatter's daughter with, independence, here a slip of a wife who objected to the switch, here a woman seeking revenge for what she called her humiliation, hut which other women looked upon as part of the routine. She was truly a novelty. Other women would have stormed and wept. Linda was calm and quiet. He had said he was sorry, and he really was, bufc he decided, as he lay there and watched the woman's impassive face, that he would switch her again as soon as he got loose. His dignity demanded that. When he had come to this conclusion, he said : "Linda, untie me." "Can't do it," she replied. "I'll wallop yo' agin, and wallop yo* powerful hard." "But yo 1 won't. Better git ready." "Yo' ain't gwine to kill me?" he asked, as she shoved back from the table at last. "Got to. I dun told yo'." "But they'll hang yo', Linda." "I don't keer."

It was she herself that gave information of the murder, and there was no trace of excitement about her as she appeared at a squatter's cabin, and said : "Mrs DreWj my Dave has dun gone dead."

"Bit by a ' cottonmoutli?" asked the woman. "Noap. I dun killed him iayself." "Fur what?" "Kase he walloped me." "Shoo ! Shoo ! Now yo' got to hang." After trial and conviction she was led out to be hanged. She was the same quiet woman. Before the trap was sprung she was asked if she had anything to say, and she briefly replied : "Reckon not. I dun told Dave that I would, and I did !"