The Stubbornness of Uriah Slater

Abstract

WHAT DID TELL CRIED MRS. Snodgrass, with a little crow of triumph following along after her words. He's gone an' hired the second-best kerriage instid of the first-best for his own weddin'. What did tell you? Let me alone! don't take me long to size up a man that only hired one kern-age, outside of the mourners an' pull-bearers, at his father's funeral. She turned from the window to cast a withering glance at Mrs. Simonton, who stood behind her with a routed air. 'Oh, he'll get the best for his own weddin': says She imitated Mrs. Simonton's tone. 'He'll get the one that's closed instid of the canopy-top, even if it is a dollar more: says you. What you got to say now? Mrs. Simonton had not a word to say. bridal carriage was now passing the gate. canopy was bobbing and bowing from side to side, as first one wheel and then another went into a rut. bridegroom sat up with a straight back and a red, conscious face. bride held her face a little from him with a modest air. two women in the window bent instantly over a pot of blooming hydrangeas, but stared still, with their chins held in, in a surreptitious way that made their eyebrows glimmer like little flounces of lace in their own vision. bride gave them a brief glance--one that unconsciously appealed to them to spare her. But they were as unconscious of its meaning as she. She's feathered her nest with mighty poor feathers, said Mrs. Snodgrass, lifting her head and staring boldly after the swaying carriage when it had passed. He's got his house all paid for, said Mrs. Simonton, timidly. Mrs. Snodgrass threw up her head with a scornful smile. An'some money in the bank besides. Yes, I've heard that story time an' an' every time I've heard it thinks, says I: Well! wouldn't have my Isaphene marry a man as stubborn 's he is for two houses all paid for an' money in three banks. You'll see. She won't get a thing her own way. W'y--is he so turrable stubborn? Is he! I heard she wanted a row of crissyanthums all along the front fence, an' he went right off an' got 'em. That don't look so turrable stubborn. Her mother's a-braggin' about it. You wait. Mrs. Snodgrass smiled loftily. It takes a little while for stubborn to out. Mebbe he wanted the crissyanthums hisself. Mebbe he asked her what kind o' flowers she wanted along the front fence. I'd brag about a little thing like that! ain't got a bad habit to his name, said Mrs. Simonton. Two red spots burned in her hollow cheeks. Not a one. He don't drink--he don't tech drink--he don't gamble, an he don't set around downtown half the night pla-yin' cards for the cigars. I've hear say that it's even agen his principles to put a nickel in the slot-- Oh my! interrupted Mrs. Snodgrass, with an exasperating laugh. he keep his wings? never see 'ern. Where's he keep 'em at? drether a man 'ud have a habit than to be a mule. drether a man 'ud set downtown an' play cards till daylight than to go an' buy a sorrel horse because asked for a dapple one, or a white Leghorn rooster because asked for a Braymin. She gave a little start, and bent her head over the hydrangea again. Here come all the people that's been to the church, she said, digging imaginary worms out of the earth with a hair-pin. Who's them three women a-walkin' along together ahead? Hunh--three urnberells! A ghost couldn't get past 'em, let alone flesh an' blood. As if September sun 'ud hurt their complexions! I'll have to go, said Mrs. Simonton, getting up reluctantly when the last wedding-guest had gone by, holding her lavender gown up high on both sides. The children '11 be gettin' home from school. Well, come again, said Mrs. Snodgrass, cordially. She went to the door and waited until her departing guest had reached the corner of the house; then she stepped out on the porch, and slanting one hand up over her eyes, called out, in a tone of repressed triumph: You just wait till along about--well, let's say April--an' see if there ain't a divorced mule in this neighborhood. …