went moo, and the chickens that went cluck, and pigs-- Marty couldn't catch the funny sound that represented the pigs, but she smiled at the child as she carried her to her chair.
Clark came in to a now familiar breakfast and greeted his daughter who squealed a happy greeting in return.
After the reading of the Word, they bowed their heads for Clark's prayer. He thanked his Father for the night's rest and
51
the promise of a fair day for the layin' in of the rest of Jedd's harvest.
Marty was surprised at the next part of the prayer.
"Father, be with the one who works so hard to be a proper mama for Missie, an' a proper keeper of this home."
The prayer went on but Marty missed it. Everything that she had done thus far had been a flop. No wonder Clark felt that it would take help from the Almighty himself to set things in order again. She didn't know if she should feel pleased or angry at such a prayer, so she forcefully shoved aside the whole thing just in time for the Amen.
"Amen," echoed Missie, and breakfast began.
At first they ate silently, Clark and Missie exchanging some comments and Clark scolding Missie.
"Don't ya be a throwin' pancake on the floor. Thet's a naughty girl an' makes more work fer yer mama."
Marty caught a few other references to `yer mama' as well, and realized that Clark had been using the words often in the past two days. She knew that he was making a conscious effort at educating the little girl to regard her as mama. She supposed she'd have to get used to it. After all, that was what she was here for-- certainly not to entertain the serious-looking young man across the table from her. Another piece of chinking clattered down and Marty took a deep breath and burst forth.
"I'm afeared I made a dreadful mistake yesterday. I took on to clean the kitchen-- "
"I'd seen me it was all fresh and clean lookin' an' smell- in'," Clark cut in.
Now why'd he do that, she stormed? She took another gulp of air and went on.
"But I didn't know what scrub water would be a doin' to the chinkin'. I mean, I didn't know thet it would all soak up like, an' then not dry right agin."
Clark said nothing. She tried again.
"Well, it's fallin' apart like. I mean-- well, look at it. It's crumblin' up an' fallin' out
"Yeah," said Clark, not even lifting his eyes.
52
"Well, it not be stayin' in place," Marty floundered. "Whatever can we do?"
She was almost angry by now. His calmness unnerved her. He looked up then, and answered slowly.
"Well, when I go to town on Saturday, I'll pick me up some more chinkin'. It's a special kind like. Made to look whiter an' cleaner, but no good at all fer holdin' out the weather-- the outside chinkin' has to do thet job. There still be time to re-do it 'fore winter sets in. Water don't hurt the outer layer none, so it's holdin' firm like. Don't ya worry yerself none 'bout it. I'm sure thet the bats won't be a flyin' through the cracks afore I git to 'em."
He almost smiled and she could have gleefully kicked him. He rose to go.
"I reckon ya been pushin' yerself pretty hard though, an' it might be well if you'd not try to lick the whole place in a week like. There's more days ahead an' ya be lookin' kinda tired." He hesitated. "Iffen ya should decide to do more cleanin', jest brush down the walls with a dry brush. Okay?"
He kissed Missie good-bye and, telling her to be a good girl for her mama, went out the door for what he said might be the last day of helping Jedd Larson with his crop. She supposed he'd be around more then. She dreaded the thought, but it was bound to come sooner or later.
She put water on to heat so that she could wash up the rag rugs before winter set in, and then found a soft brush to dust the sitting-room walls.
It didn't take nearly as long to brush them as it had to scrub the kitchen, and it did take care of the cobwebs and dust. She was surprised to be done so quickly and did the windows and floor as well.
The washed curtains were still fluttering
Clark came in to a now familiar breakfast and greeted his daughter who squealed a happy greeting in return.
After the reading of the Word, they bowed their heads for Clark's prayer. He thanked his Father for the night's rest and
51
the promise of a fair day for the layin' in of the rest of Jedd's harvest.
Marty was surprised at the next part of the prayer.
"Father, be with the one who works so hard to be a proper mama for Missie, an' a proper keeper of this home."
The prayer went on but Marty missed it. Everything that she had done thus far had been a flop. No wonder Clark felt that it would take help from the Almighty himself to set things in order again. She didn't know if she should feel pleased or angry at such a prayer, so she forcefully shoved aside the whole thing just in time for the Amen.
"Amen," echoed Missie, and breakfast began.
At first they ate silently, Clark and Missie exchanging some comments and Clark scolding Missie.
"Don't ya be a throwin' pancake on the floor. Thet's a naughty girl an' makes more work fer yer mama."
Marty caught a few other references to `yer mama' as well, and realized that Clark had been using the words often in the past two days. She knew that he was making a conscious effort at educating the little girl to regard her as mama. She supposed she'd have to get used to it. After all, that was what she was here for-- certainly not to entertain the serious-looking young man across the table from her. Another piece of chinking clattered down and Marty took a deep breath and burst forth.
"I'm afeared I made a dreadful mistake yesterday. I took on to clean the kitchen-- "
"I'd seen me it was all fresh and clean lookin' an' smell- in'," Clark cut in.
Now why'd he do that, she stormed? She took another gulp of air and went on.
"But I didn't know what scrub water would be a doin' to the chinkin'. I mean, I didn't know thet it would all soak up like, an' then not dry right agin."
Clark said nothing. She tried again.
"Well, it's fallin' apart like. I mean-- well, look at it. It's crumblin' up an' fallin' out
"Yeah," said Clark, not even lifting his eyes.
52
"Well, it not be stayin' in place," Marty floundered. "Whatever can we do?"
She was almost angry by now. His calmness unnerved her. He looked up then, and answered slowly.
"Well, when I go to town on Saturday, I'll pick me up some more chinkin'. It's a special kind like. Made to look whiter an' cleaner, but no good at all fer holdin' out the weather-- the outside chinkin' has to do thet job. There still be time to re-do it 'fore winter sets in. Water don't hurt the outer layer none, so it's holdin' firm like. Don't ya worry yerself none 'bout it. I'm sure thet the bats won't be a flyin' through the cracks afore I git to 'em."
He almost smiled and she could have gleefully kicked him. He rose to go.
"I reckon ya been pushin' yerself pretty hard though, an' it might be well if you'd not try to lick the whole place in a week like. There's more days ahead an' ya be lookin' kinda tired." He hesitated. "Iffen ya should decide to do more cleanin', jest brush down the walls with a dry brush. Okay?"
He kissed Missie good-bye and, telling her to be a good girl for her mama, went out the door for what he said might be the last day of helping Jedd Larson with his crop. She supposed he'd be around more then. She dreaded the thought, but it was bound to come sooner or later.
She put water on to heat so that she could wash up the rag rugs before winter set in, and then found a soft brush to dust the sitting-room walls.
It didn't take nearly as long to brush them as it had to scrub the kitchen, and it did take care of the cobwebs and dust. She was surprised to be done so quickly and did the windows and floor as well.
The washed curtains were still fluttering
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