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Star (Christchurch), Issue 8374, 21 July 1905, Page 4

Indigestion, biliousness and headaches disappear with wonderful rapidity after a dose of California Syrup oi Figs, " Nature's pleasant laxative." 23

confided to the parson the next day in the course of other remarks of a like character. " I sort of foel a hankerin' to be the head of the family. In Sarah's time I never was, and it wore on me. Yes, I know it's as you say: Sarah was a good woman. I don't begrudge the price of her monument. It's a good heavy stone," and her virtues is all there an' cut deep. But as long as she was here I v*as, as you might say, hindennost. And that's what a man don't- like, Parson ; he don't like it. Maybe he don't say nothin', what with being took down one way or 'nother, hut he feels it. It's contrary to Nature and it's contrary to Scripture. "You ain't a-goin' to Get there and deny that Sarah was masterful? Why, I've heard her down you, and that on Scripture 1 Now them thin's react; they react, as the doctor calls it. An' you feel as if you wouldn't do anythin' that anybody told you to, even if you wanted to do the worst kind. An' you feel as if you're just, drove to do everything you'd never get a chance at before. You want to know why I never

sive in my experience no more at J prayer-meetin'? It's just this: I I used to have to. Sarah'd nudge me till I did, or she'd know why I didn't when we'd get home. I could give it in now, and sometimes I'd like to, 'specially recently of late; but I ain't a-goin' back in my tracks. "You don't know what's como over me? I'm not the same man I was? You're right, I'm not. When I'd stripped that spare-room of all them fool fbcin's and plumped mysejf down in them feathers, that first time after fifteen years on a husk mattress, I felt like aa if I had read myself tho j 'Mancipation Proclamation. And I'm ■ a-goin' to continue on, keepin' my hat j on 3 the parlour-table and my pipe on ' tho parlour-mantel. . I'm a-goin 7 to pall the winder-shades up crooked if I want to. I'm a-goin' to put my feet — boots and all — on the best chairs. I just naturally hunt for things to do that's different from what I was let do, and, sir " — he drew himself vp — " my chest has expanded four inches." Time passed swiftly and delightfully until Miss Johnson left for her own home in the neighbouring village. With her went Mr Barden' s peace of mind. As he told his friend, the minister, he was having heart-struggles. " Sarah's happy — that is, if she don't know what's goin' on here — and I intend to be. If I could only be sure. That is — you know what I moan — sometimes things ain't just what they 6eem. Suppose she'd take to Woman's Rights and that sort of thing like Sarah. You know when a man's got's his freedom papers he likes to keep 'em. " Now, it's this way. When I ask her— Who ?— Why, Miss Johnson, of course! When I ask her opinion about anything, she just flutters and says, •What do you think, Mr Barden?' Now Sarah, she was great on Woman's Rights, but iuiss Johnson, she says that a woman don't need none 'cept what tuo man she loves likes to let her have. She says that women were made for the express purpose of looking up to man. i Ain't that a beautiful sentiment? Once j when i let out a little about Sarah's ways and doin's (sort of feelin' my way, I you know), she said for her part sho ! couldn't never forget herself so far as to go against her husband iv anything. She says tho home is the husband's, an' only asks tho right to make him 1 comfortable*. She says she got it from ! Shakespeare that a wife ought to thank I Heaven, fasti n', for her husband. I j can't soo the use of the fastin', if she;s | square on the rest, but she says it ! means more that way. Now I believe her, an' then again I don't know. You've been married twice, Parson, now. man to mail, is it worth the risk?" "In the soring a young man's fancy lightly turns" to thoughts of love." Mr ! Bcrden was not exactly young, but he fe.lt bo, which is the nsxt best thing. His struggles were over ; his surrender unconditional. An evening came; the evening. Donning his best suit, his

stiffest collar, his gayest tie, and his tightest boots, he set forth for the village which held his " Heart's Dearest Hope," as he had written her down with very large capitals in the letter announcing his coming. It was but a twelve-mile drive over a good road with a fair horse, but the way seemed long. He beguiled it with visions of th<?> future. Sarah's waist had med*n:.<J thirty-two inches; Angelica Johnson was very slim. Sarah's height equalled his own; Angelica's head just reached his shoulder comfortably. Sarah had always discouraged sentiment ; Angelica would look down, and then up, and then "Glang!" he cried with a touch cf the whip? The mare seemed to know, and flew over the ground, bringing him to his journey's end some moments ahead of time. " Good," ; he thought, "I'll surprise her." Leaving the carriage out of sight he hurried on. ; Angelica, his Heart's Dearest Hope, sat at the window bending over a letter "Mine!" thought the lover; and his heart gave an extra thump. The door was ajar. Some big men can step lightly, but Mr Barden had never learned the art, even under Sarah's severe tutelage. His first footfall was heard. From the window came a familiar voice in an unfamiliar Key : — I " You, Jim Johnson, go right round ! the back-alley way. Don't you know you can't bring your dirty boots in at mv front-door? "Whose house is this, anyway r No response except hastily retreating footsteps, the banging of the gate, and tiie sudden sound of wheels in the quiet street. From his post of observation in the kitchen, whicn he had earlier reached as usual by the back-alley way, Angelica's brother Jim saw and heard, it was his hour. " The mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small." The lean, lank, dull-eyed boy aiu not put it that way. He only humpe.d his narrow, stooping shoulders still more and chuckled : — " She's ben come up with." "I'll tell you what, Parson," said Mr Barden at the station a few days later, as bo parted from the minister, his ticket fov Atlantic City in his hatband; "I'll tell you what— it was a close shave. If I hadn't got there ahead of time I'd be climbin' them back-stairs and sleepin' on the old husk mattress.* After I get through with the sights at the shore, I'm goia' West to grow up with the country. They tell me women are scarce out there. " I've just been over, takin' a look at Sarah's monument, to sort of quiet myself down. Seemed like as if I could hoar her say, just as she used to about once a day regular. ' When I'm dsad and gone, John Barden, the foolkiller '11 gat you, for sure.' I'm mighty glad siie don't know how near she come to bein' right."