Jasper County Democrat, Volume 20, Number 101, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 March 1918 — Through Fire [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Through Fire

By John Elkins

•.'.v.;.v.v.v.v.v.v.v./;.X.XvXv!‘!vXv.'vXv.v.v.'.*.v.v.v] (Copyright. 1»17. by W. G. Chapman.) “I ought to have known better than to marry an Englishman! His ways are not my ways. I'm a thoroughbred Yankee of the New England stock, and we don’t pull together.” Helen Birch had grown confidential with her old friend. Grace Mead. She seldom spoke of these things to anyone, but she knew her friend had noticed that the domestic machinery was not running very smoothly, and that relations between husband and wife were not entirely harmonious. It really was a relief to unburden to a real friend the pent up misery of many months. “Well of course," temporized Grace. “I can see that your early training and views of life are different from his. and vice versa. But it seems to me that might be overcome." “Life’s too short for me to begin on the job,” said Helen with an air of finality. “Oh,” put in Grace. “I wouldn't say that!’’ “You would if you were his wife,” retorted Helen. “But you love John, don’t you?” “Yes I did —but it seems to be all killed out now. I can't stand the way he treats me. To begin with he thinks a woman of secondary consideration to the great god man. She's all right to

amuse him when he has nothing of importance to do, or to put ice on his forehead when he has a headache. He never enters into a serious discussion of any matter with her because she hasn’t brains enough to make It worth while.” “If I were you,” said Grace, “I'd wake him up to the fact that it was: ‘worth while.’ ” “Do you know how that works? Get the better of him in an argument, and he smiles in a superior, toplofty way, and says: T never argue with a woman.’ He considers the discussion closed, and that you are reduced to a proper realization of your inferiority. You see he doesn’t play fair when It’s a woman.” “That isn’t exclusively an English trait,” smiled Grace. “No, but you can’t deny that it’s bred In the bone with them. Besides they’ll see a woman in the absence of

a servant slave herself to death In the. kitchen before they’d demean them- j selves by picking up a broom, or taking a hand with the dishes.” “Oh.” protested Grace, “my father was English, and he wasn’t like that!” “Well John is. I’ve been without a maid here sometimes, and just ready to drop, and lie’s never offered to do a thing. Once when he’d brought a man up to dine, and I’d had to get the dinner, and do it all, I went out in the kitchen after the company was gone, and started to clear away the debris, and wash that pile of dishes. I was so tired, I took a sudden resolve, and went to the door, and called him. and told him I wanted him to help. He stood in the doorway and looked helpless. ‘My dear,’ he said. ‘I never washed a dish in my life. I’d be a first class bull in a china shop. There wouldn't be a plate left. them. and get someone in tomorrow to wash up.” “You know I can't do that.” I said. He walked away, and left me to do it alone. • • “Afterwards I said.to him: ‘lf ever I have a son, he’ll be taught just like a girl to help his mother out in a case of emergency. He’ll know how to wash dishes without breaking them, and sweep the kitchen if he has to. He’s not going to sit and kick his heels while he watches his mother or sister do all the work.’ John looked at me with that frozen dignity that always rouses my wrath, and said : ‘My mother never allowed me or my brother in the kitchen. She said that was not a man’s place. I remember once when the servants had left, and she was working very hard, I asked if I might help. I also remember the reprimand I received for suggesting such a thing.

She said she wanted her boys to grow up manly. She didn’t want any mollycoddles around her. Besides I would only bother her with trying to help, and she was quite capable of managing the domestic department.’ ” “There you see It was the mother’s fault!” exclaimed Grace. “Yes —but they’re all alike, those English mothers. They were born with the Idea that the boys must have the ! best of everything, and the girls can take what’s left. Oh It’s a man’s world over there In that little island, all right 1” “Did you impart these views to John?” enquired Grace. “You better believe I did. But when I touched on the mother’s fault, he fired up like at gatling gun, rallied to the defense of his mother, and shot off such a broadside at the American parent that I lined up in battle, and well that came near being the worst quarrel we ever had.

Grace looked sadly sympathetic. She could see the fine, sterling qualities In both Helen and John. She believed they really loved each other, and here were these little differences of nationality and training driving them apart, and making a wreck of their happiness. They were both strong characters as far as forming standards and standing by them went. They were not easily swerved from that which they believed right or Just. It seemed useless to try to counsel Helen to ignore or let pass the biased or unpalatable ideas of'John for the sake of the larger, finer qualities he possessed. And as for John, she felt he would resent all Interference of hep's. So the pair were left* to drift on to the final break. It came some six months afterward. Helen took the Initiative, and John Birch went to England ostensibly on business, but really to make the separation cause no gossip, until they coqld at least settle on the question of la divorce. . ■■ L After he sailed Helen heard no further news of him. A certain allowance was paid her every month by the attorney, and she asked no questions. Then came the awful news that August day when the air was rent by shot and shell, and a peaceful land met the horrors of an invading host. Helen, lonely, restless, and unhappy seized anything that offered the opportunity of change, and the prospect of doing something of account. She went into training for a nurse, and when fitted for the position sailed for the service. An extract from a letter of her’s to her friend Grace gave some inkling of the change going on in her mind. “How this war has changed everything,” she wrote. Little barriers of prejudice are

broken down. Every one is more tolerant of the other fellow’s views. Every one Is kinder to the stranger. Perhaps because the common cause in which they are working makes brothers of them all. The woman too is coming into her own. The men have had to realize her tremendous importance in this struggle. These English women are splendid. And I must add the English men too. Such a quiet, cheerful facing of the inevitable is a thing too big for words. lam going to France tomorrow.” I What followed Is perhaps more quickly told gleaned from the facts afterwards confided to Grace Mead. Some badly wounded men had been brought in during the night, Helen found when she went to her post at the hospital in the morning. She paused to settle more comfortably the head of a man whose face was almost entirely hidden with bandages. They feared he might lose his eyesight, and she was warned to be especially careful to keep the dressing in place about the eyes. The poor fellow was lying very quietly just then under the influence of nn opiate. But after a time he began to murmur brokenly that he wanted to write a letter. Helen told him she was there to do It for him. “You see,” he said, “she doesn’t know where I am. But I want her to know. I — l wish I could tell her —tell her — I know better now. Maybe we could get on together now. I’ve been thinking—thinking we might. Maybe m never see her again. Maybe she’ll never know —I wish she could.” I The voice trailed ofT into an Indistinct murmur. Helen wanted to ask him who this was to go to, but he lay !as one dead. Suppose he should die before she could find out, and this j woman would never know! She ran for a stimulant to rouse him. As she i bent over him with the glass he moved. I His hand came out from under the bed- , clothes. j Then the woman knew. She caught I at the hand, and covered it with kisses. But she feared to reveal herself to him In his weak state, lest the excitement would be too mnch for the shattered nerves. Some of the nurses wondered a bit at her devotion to this particular patient, but she only left him to snatch a few minutes’ sleep day after day. In ■ hours of delirium he babbled the old days when he “didn’t know,” and called on “Helen,” telling her he wanted her. I Her heart gave a great throb when ' one day the surgeon told her he was ! on the mend. They believed too he would not lose his sight, and were going that day to take off the bandages for a trial. Just before this was to be done, she said to him: “John, dear! don’t you know my voice?” I “Helen! Oh thank God! When I thought it was you, I believed I was dreaming!” j “No. dear, it was I all the time! Put your hand on my hair—then you will 1 know.” | She loosened the nurse’s cap, and j put her head down on his breast. She jfeit his trembling hand gently strok- ; ing her hair. She felt too how he drew I a strand to his lips, and kissed it many (times. “I hope they will let me see you first lof all,” be -aid.

The Poor Fellow Was Lying Very Quietly.