ounsel.

Isom, seeing that the book of his family must close with him, expelled
the small grain of tenderness that his dry heart had held for his wife
at the beginning, and counted her now nothing but another back to bear
his burdens. He multiplied her tasks, and snarled and snapped, and more
than once in those work-crowded autumn days, when she had lagged in her
weariness, he had lifted his hand to strike. The day would come when
that threatened blow would fall; of that Ollie had no consoling doubt.
She did not feel that she would resent it, save in an addition to her
accumulated hate, for hard labor by day and tears by night break the
spirit until the flints of cruelty no longer wake its fire.

Day after day, as he worked by the side of Isom in the fields, Joe had
it foremost in his mind to speak to him of his unjust treatment of his
wife. Yet he hung back out of the Oriental conception which he held, due
to his Scriptural reading, of that relationship between woman and man. A
man's wife was his property in a certain, broad sense. It would seem
unwarranted by any measure of excess short of murder for another to
interfere between them. Joe held his peace, therefore, but with internal
ferment and unrest.

It was in those days of Joe's disquietude that Ollie first spoke to him
of Isom's oppressions. The opportunity fell a short time after their
early morning meeting in the path. Isom had gone to town with a load of
produce, and Joe and Ollie had the dinner alone for the first time since
he had been under that roof.

Ollie's eyes were red and swollen from recent weeping, her face was
mottled from her tears. Much trouble had made her careless of late of
her prettiness, and now she was disheveled, her apron awry around her
waist, her hair mussed, her whole aspect one of slovenly disregard. Her
depression was so great that Joe was moved to comfort her.

"You've got a hard time of it," said he. "If there's anything I can do
to help you I wish you'd let me know."

Ollie slung a dish carelessly upon the table, and followed it with Joe's
coffee, which she slopped half out into the saucer.

"Oh, I feel just like I don't care any more!" said she, her lips
trembling, tears starting again in her irritated eyes. "I get treatment
here that no decent man would give a dog!"

Joe felt small and young in Ollie's presence, due to the fact that she
was older by a year at least than himself.

That feeling of littleness had been one