stream that the little towns were hardly aware of
it as yet.

Green Valley was only just beginning to itch and wiggle and search and
wonder what the matter could be. It was the women, the mothers, who
scented trouble first. The men were still placidly doing the same old
Saturday afternoon tasks, mowing lawns, talking road improvements,
swapping yarns and brands of tobacco or, like Frank Burton, doing
various building jobs about their premises.

Frank and his helper were certainly enjoying themselves. When the
skeleton of that hen house was half up Frank thought it was about time
to call a halt for refreshments. He went to the ice-box and brought
out a nice home-boiled ham, commandeered a golden loaf of fresh bread,
searched about for pickles, mustard, preserves and butter. Then they
sat down. And as he ate Frank again waxed talkative.

"I've heard people," he said, "both men and women, talk about marriage
being slavery and a lottery and not worth the price folks have to pay
for it. But I'm freer as a married man than ever I was single. Why,
where I boarded before I married Jennie, you couldn't get a slice of
bread and butter or a toothpick between meals even if you'd been a
growing kid. And in those days I was always hungry. And I've always
hated restaurants where food is cooked in tanks instead of nice little
home kettles in a blue and white kitchen. And I hate restaurant
dishes. There's never anything interesting about them. And most
waitresses are discouraging sort of girls. I just kind of existed in
those days.

"But ever since I've married Jennie I've lived. Jennie never talks
much about what she's cooking. But she'll let you come in the kitchen
and lift the kettle lids if you want to and poke around and never once
let on that you're a nuisance. And she never gets angry if you dig
into the fresh bread or crack the frosting on the new cake. So take it
all in all I've always considered all this talk about married life
being nothing but self-sacrifice just so much rot--why--hello, Sammy!"

This to a little overall-clad figure that was pressing itself
insinuatingly against the back gate.

"Want to come in and help with the tools?" called Frank, well knowing
that that jar of Jennie's preserves was perfectly visible from that
back gate.

Sammy said hello and sure he'd come in and help, and did with
remarkable speed. When he came up to the two men he looked shyly at
Frank's assistant and said,