Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 160, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1914 — MARTHA HAD TACT [ARTICLE]

MARTHA HAD TACT

By GERTRUDE TAATJES.

'Dbra Stanton paused in the midst of her ironing to gaze wearily at the heap of unfinished clothes in the basket. She was so tired she would like to put the rest away, but there wu that pink dress of Mollie’s to be gotten ready and shirts for the boys and their father. Mechanically she started to Iron occasionally stopping to wipe the beads of perspiration that gathered on her hot forehead. Once in a while a cool breeze reached her from the open window, but the kitchen was unbearably hot. The door s bell rang, and as she turned to answer it she. brushed back a few loose strands of gray hair with her hand. There was no life in her movements, every bone in her body ached and cried out for rest. “Martha!” she exclaimed, as she recognized her visitor. -- - ----- - “Yes, Dora,” the other said, "are you surprised? Didn’t you get my letter?” “I got your letter yesterday; but have been so busy that I haven't found time to read it,” Dora replied. "Well, I am sure that’s a nice thing to do with a sister’s letter,” Martha answered, and followed her sister to the kitchen. “Haven’t you got it hot in here, Dera?” she exclaimed. “And mercy, look at that pile of ironing! No wonder you look all dragged out. What are you trying to do jto yourself?” Her sister smiled wearily, “Did you think I had nothing to do but sit down?” she asked. They fell to talking of other things and Martha told of how she« had written she was coming for a few weeks’ rest, “but I am sure if anyone needed rest it’s you,” she concluded. Supper that night was unbearable to Martha. She couldn’t see her sister slaving so for her family. Thia for John, that for Dick, this for Mollie! It was really wicked for Dora to work the way she did, and looking at her brother-in-law Martha felt a rush of resentment toward him for calmly accepting all of his wife’s attentions to the entire neglect of herself. “No wonder he looks so fine,” she thought. "He is at least five years older than Dora and looks ten years younger.” Supper ended, Martha expected her sister to sit down and rest, but Mollie, aged, twenty years, couldn’t help with the dishes as she was going out “Mother, did you Iron that pink dress I told you to?” she asked, and on being told “Yes,” went to get it The next minute she was calling to her mother that there was a button off. "Why didn’t you sew it on, mother?” she cried. “I didn’t have time, Mollie,” her mother replied. t Then Dora, busy washing the dishes, dried her hands and went to the foot of the stairs in answer to a call from her husband. ‘‘Say, Dora, where’s that blue and white shirt of mine?” he queried. “I didn’t get it done, John; It was so hot today, and I felt tired. Won’t you wear one of the others?" "Well, it’s mighty funny I oan’t have the one I want,” he answered crossly. “But I didn’t suppose it mattered,” Dora replied soothingly. “Here, I’ll bring up the ones I Ironed today,” and she went to the clothes horse and took down several shirts and brought th6m to her husband, patiently waiting while he grumblingly selected one; then having seen that he had all the articles that he possibly could need, she started down the stairs again, when an urgent call from one of the boys brought her to their room. When she came downstairs again, after having settled the affairs of the family, she washed the dishes. Her sister was sitting waiting for her. “My sakes, Dora, if this is What you go through every day it’s a wonder that you are not dead. Why do you wait on them so?’ But Dorn told her that she had done it is long as she could remember, and it wasn’t any use In stopping it now; it was her duty. “Well, I would like to know what they would do if anything happened to you,” Martha said, “and you owe It to them and to yourself to take better care of yourself.” The next day was a repetition of the other, and Martha Endicott had hard work to keep from saying what she thought. No, It wouldn’t help to Interfere in that manner, but she felt that she must find some method of saying her sister from her unnecessary and unappreciated sacrifice. Of course, there was no need of IL They were all big and able to help themselves, but had acquired the habit of depending on the mother for everything, and Dofra’s love had fostered selfishness. The next day Dora complained of a headache and after much urging Martha succeeded in getting her to bed. At first Dora rebelled at going to bed when there was so much to be done, but the need of rest telling upon her she soon fell asleep, and Martha thought of a plan to keep her there until she was rested out and her family had learned to do without her. Dora was not really ill. but she soon would be if she continued the way she was going, and her sister felt that she had to be broken of the habit of catering to her household. The family bad to be taught to depend more on itself. “Why, they are worse than babies,” Martha muttered to herself. Martha knew of one way of making her sister remain in bed, and having made sure that her sister slept she pinned her hat on and slipped softly, silently out of the back door? Down

the street she went, never pausing until she reached her destination. A neat ma|d opened the door, and In answer tor&er question as to whether Doctor Morton was in, the doctor himself stepped out of bis office. “Why, Martha Endicott, how do you do?” he exclaimed, and laughingly asked her if she had come to see him because she was sick. Martha, a picture of health, joined in the laugh, and began to tell him her real reason for coming.

"Dora is just killing herself for her family, Doctor Morton, and what’s more, she is a most willing martyr, as she believes It Is her duty. Now, I want you, as an old friend of the family, to help me save her from herself,” and Martha explained her plantohlm. “Come this afternoon and pronounce her very ill. Give the sickness some mysterious name, and leave some harmless medicines for her; frighten her into taking care of herself and prescribe absolute quiet and rest, and I will attend to the family."

“Just the thing, Martha,” the doctor answered. Martha got back without being missed, and later, going into Dora’s room and finding her awake, she put her hand on her sister's forehead and exclaimed that her head was hot, and that she was going to call the doctor. “Nonsense, Martha,” Dora said. Later In the afternoon Doctor Morton called, and his grave looks and mysterious words frightened Dora into submission. “But I don’t feel sick, doctor,” she declared. “I am only tired.”

“That Is just how your kind of sickness affects people,” the doctor told her. “You could go on and on until the en<| without noticing it, but now that you have taken this in time, I believe a few weeks’ rest will soon put you on your feet again. Now I want you to promise me to do as I tell you." Martha got supper ready that night, and as John and the children came home, met all their questions regarding the mother with a finger on her lips and whispers accompanied by very grave looks. Her brother-in-law grew very anxious as he looked at his wife In bed and saw the row of medicine bottles on the little table beside her. He sat holding her hand long after Martha left them.

Mollie surprised her aunt by taking hold at once and helping to get the dishes done and the house tidied, while the two boys chopped and brought In an enormous pile of wood for their aunt’s use. Doctor Morton called every day, and at the end of a week decided that Dora could get up and walk about her room. John Stanton was happy to see his wife up once more, listened eagerly to the doctor’s Instructions and readily promised to follow them; Mol--116 and the boys were taken Into their aunt’s confidence, and willingly agreed to all she suggested. After another week of resting Dora was pronounced cured, but the doctor warned her to be careful not to overwork, as that would put her health In danger, and Dora, feeling as if born anew after her weeks of rest, was too anxious to keep her precious health to disobey him. In spite of the fact that he had declared his patient entirely cured, Doctor morton continued to call, and Aunt Martha’s rosy cheeks grew even rosier with his visits. One day he found her alone in the garden, and taking both of her hands in his he told her the old, old story. “Martha, you were just made to manage people, and I need to be managed. Won’t you manage me, dear?” he coaxed. Martha has proven a good manager. (Copyright, 1914. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)