Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 221, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 September 1918 — HIS FARMERETTE [ARTICLE]

HIS FARMERETTE

By NELLIE A. DELANEY

‘Oupjrrt<bt. MUB. Wwtera N»w»paper Enfon. > Martha Colby added a few finishing touches to the already spotless kitchen. Tonight four girls were coming from the city to work on the farm. Mr. Colby found male help impossible to secure, so at last he gave up and advertised for farmerettes. Martha brushed back the Jet black hair from her forehead, put on a fresh blue gingham dress, a white, stiffly starched apron, and before she could get to the kitchen a loud pealing of the door bell announced the arrival of the new farm hands. She opened the door nervously, and there stood four fashionably dressed girls. Laughing and chatting merrily, they followed the now more than ever nervous Martha. In the dining room Tom Colby, born farmer, showed plainly that life on a farm had not made Idm any different from the rest of the sterner sex. He gazed admiringly at each pretty girl, and Martha could not remember when he had talked so much, but Instead of the uneasy feeling leaving her it grew more, apparent, and she tried in vain to hide the red hands, rough from heavy work. Married at sixteen, then ten years of hard work to help pay off the mortgage on the little farm, made, Martha feel more like forty than twenty-six. Before the first meal was over Martha was experiencing a feeling absolutely new to her. She was thinking of the long evenings when Tom, after a hard day’s work, would go to sleep tn his easy chair? then the long, lonesome evening must be passed In silence. Tonight he was wide awake, and after supper, through the open window Martha watched him eagerly show the four girls the different places on the farm. She turned from the window, and the ugly pain that had started at supper, Increased with great rapidity, nor could' she explain its meaning, for Martha was experiencing jealousy for the first time in her life. She hated the four rosy-cheeked girls with their city ways; she hated the way they plastered their hair around their ears, entirely covering them, and she felt that she almost hated her beloved Tom.

As the days wore on Martha became more silent and miserable. One day she got up courage to ask Tom what he thought of the farmerettes, and he expressed himself in one. word, “peaches.” Then it was true. She told herself, Tom was rtowly slipping away from her, and walking into the n?xt room the big brown eyes filled with tears. “Why the tears, girlie?” a musical voice sounded behind her. The blood rushed to Martha’s cheeks as the prettiest of the four farmerettes approached her. “I forgot my powder puff,” she added by way of explanation for coming back from the field.

Martha’s first impulse was to run away; instead, womanlike, she burst into tears, and let the girl she hated lead her to the chair and coax from her the reason why she wept Putting her arm around Martha, she whispered : “Little country girl, you are jealous without cause; why, you are five times as pretty as any city girl. But as we are going back to the city, tonight, let’s prove that fact to yoUT husband. He Is going to drive us to the station, but before we go we will fix you up a little —only,” she added, “we can’t put any more roses In those cheeks.” After much whispered planning, they separated. That'night, as Tom Colby sat in the wagon waiting for the four girls to appear, it seemed to him it took them a long time to bid Martha good-by. They finally appeared, and Tom drove them to the station. He did not wait for the train; somehow, tonight he longed to pass a pleasant evening alone with his wife; he had made up his mind i there was just one little farmerette in the world for him, and that was Martha. As he drove into' the yard, be was a little surprised that Martha did, not come to meet him. as was her custom. Throwing the reins to the hired man, he hurried into the kitchen. The supper dishes were still in the pan, and the table had not been cleared. A feeling of fear came over Tom, and he hurried into the bedroom. There on the floor in a crumpled heap was the familiar blue gingham dress. A slight noise in the parlor turned his attention there, and pushing open the door he beheld Martha in a blue silk dress, white shoes and stockings, and, worst of all, the beautiful black hair was pulled tightly over two pink ears.

* Tom stated for some minutes in silence. then Martha asked sweetly: “Do I look so strange in pretty clothes. Tom? Don’t I look as good as the four farmerettes?” “Why, Martha, girl,” Tom replied slowly, “there’s just one farmerette in this world for me, and that’s my Martha, but It took four city girls to wake me up to that fact, but,” he added, wistfully, “I like you best in the blue gingham, with your hair done the other way.” *” The following week a little stenographer in a stuffy office stopped pounding the keys of her typewriter long enough to read a postcard from her country friend, and she smiled happily at its contents: “It worked fine, dear, but I am still wearing my gingham dress, and he won’t let me wear my hair over my ears.”