THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 69 



if possible, and that better than ever he loved to 

 sit in the shadow of his own fig-tree and gaze with 

 primeval calm upon stationary horses hitched to a 

 stationary plow. Thus we parted. And as Ascen- 

 cion belonged to my tenderfoot days he has never 

 been duplicated on my estate. 



As an experienced employer of labor — and here 

 is it amiss to question if the employer has not some- 

 thing to learn in this employing business even as has 

 the employed ? — I have never believed in demonstra- 

 tive supervision. Wiser is it, mayhap, to "keep eyes 

 in the back of the head." Thus : one day I stood 

 on the mounting block in front of my Southern 

 home, waiting for my husband. As men usually 

 have to be waited for, I was unperturbed. (Here 

 it is best to pause and nail my colors to the mast ere 

 some indignant masculine hand tears them down.) 

 Our faithful William stood at the heads of the 

 blooded team, and my roving glance lit casually on 

 the silken quarters of the near mare. "Now Mis', 

 now Mis' !" ejaculated William, stammering in his 

 haste as his custom was — "Dat ain't no dust on 

 Lemma! Sw'ar to gracious dat ain't no dust on 

 dat mah !" My husband joining me at the moment 

 we both laughed, but on my return to Aunt Hannah 

 in the kitchen she delivered herself as follows: 

 "William, he come in mah kitchen and says 'Mis', 

 she got eyes in de back of her haid!' An' ef dat 

 ain't gospel truf too!" 



In New Mexico, also, many words may prove de- 

 leterious rather than helpful in that matter of labor. 

 I prefer to abstain from hovering over my workers, 



