ay. Let him up an' try 'em oncet, an'
he'll see. Why don't you have some style about you an' land him one,
where it'll do the most good, or else--_leave_ him? But no, you wouldn't
do that--I _know_ you wouldn't! Some women has to cling to somethin',
no matter if they have to support it themselves."

Mrs. Langbein's inarticulate sobbing had passed into a spasmodic
struggle for breathless utterance.

"He--don't mean--no harm, Mis' Slawson. He's all right--ven he's soper.
Only--it preaks my heart ven he vips me, und I don't deserve it."

"Breaks your heart? It ain't your _heart I'm_ worryin' about. If he
don't break your bones you're in luck!"

"Und I try to pe a goot vife to him. I tend him hand und foot."

"Ye-es, I know you do," returned Martha dryly. "But suppose you just try
the _foot_ in the future. See how it works."

"I to my pest mit dryin' to pe a goot cook. I geep his house so glean as
a bin. Vat I _don't_ do, Gott weiss, I don't know it. I ain't esk him
for ein tcent already. I ain't drouble him mit pills off of de grocer
oder de putcher, oder anny-von. I makes launtry efery veek for some
liddle peoples, und mit mine own money I bays my pills. Ven you dell me
how it iss I could make eferyting more smoother for him, I do it!"

"That's eggsackly the trouble," proclaimed Mrs. Slawson conclusively.
"You make 'em too smooth. You make 'em so smooth, they're ackchelly
slippery. No wonder the poor fella falls down. No man wants to spend
all his life skatin' round, doin' fancy-figger stunts, because his
wife's a dummy. Let'm get down to hard earth, an' if he kicks, heave a
rock at'm. He'll soon stand up, an' walk straight like a little man. Let
_him_ lend a hand with the dooty-business, for a change. It'll take his
attention off'n himself, give'm a rest from thinkin' he's an angel, an'
that you hired out, when you married'm, to shout 'Glory!' every time he
flaps a wing! That sort o' thing ain't healthy for men. It don't agree
with their constitutions--An' now, good-night to you, an' may you have
sweet dreams! Mr. Langbein, I ain't the slightest objeckshun to your
gettin' up, if you want to. You know me now. I'm by the day, as you may
have heard. But I can turn my hand to an odd job like this now an' then
by the night, if it's necess'ry, so let me hear no more from you, sir,
an' then we'll all be good friends, like we're partin' now. Good-night!"

CHAPTER VIII

Before setting out for his work the next mo