Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 94, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 April 1911 — PLUCKING A GOOSE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

PLUCKING A GOOSE

By Martha McCulloch Williams

(CcpjriilM, 19*1. hr AwocUtod Literary Press.) “When you’ve got a goose to piek, don’t be greedy and take away the bolsters. Not unless you mean to kill ft right away,” Sister Ellet said meaningly, eyeing her gtepniece, Jane, over the tops of her glasses. Jane tossed her head saucily—she understood the allegory of the speech. But it would never do to let Aunt Phoebe know her shot ' had gone hornet ; “I wouldn’t let people know I was so awful old —and old-time-y,” she said. “Why it’s years and years and years since folks quit raising geese for their feathers.” Sister Ellet sniffed. “Unless you leave the bolsters to hold up the wings, your goose won’t thrive for the longest time,” she said, still allegorical —then with sudden anger: “My patience, Jane, I wonder you can look at me! You know men bury their wits when they bury their wives, yet here you keep poor foolish Ben Dancy tagging after you, spending money on flowers and books, and candy, and taking you to all the shows when you know he hasn’t got it to spend—not without letting Ellen’s poor little children go bare.” “I don’t make him do it,” Jane said loftily. Sister Ellet ran on: “It wouldn’t be altogether so shambful if you had the least notion of marrying him. Widowers will be fools—as well about you as another girl! If Ben had any chance —” “Maybe he’s got a chance,” Jane said oracularly, but flushing a dull red. > ' Her aunt looked at her sharply. ‘‘D’ye mean you'll take him if you can’t get Jeems Moore?” she asked. “Well, well! I never thought.even you'd be brazen enough to own to such a thing.” Jane laughed rather sourly, walked to the glass, looked at herself narrowly, then turned slowly about, saying: “I don’t call it brazen —only honest. You know and I know, I’ve got to marry before the year’s out. I’m twenty-five and going off in my looks. Father won’t live the winter through.

Your sister likes me even less than you do. And I don’t see myself going around, sewing and nursing and doing odd jobs for everybody, pinching and scraping, never daring to say my soul’s my own, for the sake of keeping it in body. I would rather have Jimmy Moore —he’s got a temper—but that ain’t as bad as three children. Ben Dancy would treat me better, perhaps, but I couldn’t treat myself nearly as well.” ‘‘Who do you lovfe best?” Sister E> let asked, shocked, yet in a way diverted. f "Myself!” Jane said, with a shrug, whereat her elder raised hands and eyes, muttering: "That’s the truth-r-ls ever anybody told it.” “What’s that. Aunt Nan? Can Miss Jinny tell the truth? I thought all the girls everywheres had forgot how,” Jeems Moore said, from Just outside the window. “Say,” he went on to Jane, “come outside for a little while. I want some yard or so of frozen truth —think you can reel it off for me?” “Oh, I don't know. Maybe So —unless you ask me about my age or my complexion,” Jane answered, stepping through the French window to join him. When they were out of earshot he blurted at her: "I’m in love —heels over bead. Reckon it’s bo news to you, but it’s best to get things right straight at the start.” "Much the best,” Jane assented, her heart beating fast. * Moore went on doggedly: “What l want to know is—have I got a fair chance?” - “Is there any other man in your way?” Jane asked, almost tremulously. Moore snorted: “I moat wish there was,” he said. “As far as I know. Tm the only man that’s ever looked at her this jvay. That’s what makes it so hard —she don’t seem to understand —” "Who in she? I don’t understand, either.” Jane cried, her voice sharp. ’'Who can it be but Penny? Miss

Pennsylvania Dancy, Ban’s sister, * Moore retorted almost angrily. “Lord! If only she cared as much for me as she does for those brats of his. Right nice little tricks I must say— if only they weren’t always bo in my way. How can you court a girl with a lummox y three-year-old clawing to get in your lap, and a big boy telling you over all the things he’s learned at school—and a girl that wants to teach you kindergarten tricks?" “Why! I think it would be difficult" Jane admitted Judicially,' as Moore stopped short. lie rushed on: “Abd Penny thinks it’s all right. Rlghtest kind of all right. I know I’ never can get at her unless you’ll help me.” “How?” Jane asked. Moore looked deeply injured. “Just by* telling her you’re going to marry Ben—she says you’re the only woman litfeg she’d be willing he should put over her darlings. jSo here’s your chance of telling truth—are you going to take him?” “Not unless he asks me,” Jane said demurely and smiling a little as if there was a tightness in her throat. Moore laughed a huge-relieved guffaw. “Just you let me know if he don’t, and in short - order I’ll thrash him in an inch of his life.” “Thank you very much —but J had rather you wouldn’t. * Think of the children!” Jane returned. “Besides, can’t you prevail on Penny to adopt? you, anyway? One more doesn’t mean much when you have already a family.” - “I never thought of that. I’ll go right straight and ask her,” Moore said, giggling like a schoolboy. “And I’ll scare old Ben something awful. A good fellow, a mighty good fellow — but slout! My heaven! Even being a widower hasn’t <;ured him.” With that he shot away. Jane looked after him with a curious sense of anger mixed with relief. She had a saving perception of humor —in a minute she was laughing, not acidly, but with genuine amusement. “So I don’t have to choose after all,” she said to herself. “But Penny! Whoever would have thought it? I would rather she had Jim than anybody else —she deserves a good home; then she has behaved beautifully to me.” “You look as if you had heard good news,” Sister Ellet commented an hour later, when Jane came into the sitting room. Jane went up to her, straightened heT cap, picked up three dropped stitches in the glove she was knitting, then said, shame-facedly: “Aunt Phoebe— I will you please forget some foolish talk of mine? I’ve been talking with Ben down at the gate—he stopped as he went by—and—and—everything is settled. I’m not going to kill my goose, neither to pluck off the bolsters. We shall be married next month —won’t you give us joy?” .“Surely, child!” Sister Ellet said heartily. “And my silver teapot into the bargain. I know we’ve been often cVanky and criss-cross one with another —but it come over me, as I sat here, you’ve got a heap of good in you—and you haven’t had the best chance to bring it out. If you’ve got heart and courage enough to mother Ben’s children —” “I shall try,” Jane half whispered. “You see—l know what it is to lack mothering myself.”

“She Eyed Her Stepniece.”