COMMUTER'S WIFE 49 



thought he could care for cows because he had 

 driven a milk wagon. The first thing he did was 

 to dump a load of windfall apples into the corner 

 of the pasture, so that when Black Bess, who was 

 always greedy, came home that night, she did not 

 lead as usual, and her ears hung down and she 

 leaned against the gate, she was so intoxicated from 

 the cider the fermented apples had made in her 

 sto'mach. Then you had to fuss over her all night, 

 and her milk dried up. 



" Surely you remember the winter that Aunt Lot 

 struggled with the cook who had a lame knee and 

 couldn't go down cellar, and the waitress who had 

 vertigo and couldn't take the dishes down from 

 the top pantry-shelf without dropping them. Then 

 the next cook couldn't even wash her dish-towels, 

 because it hurt her to bend her liver, and when 

 the washing was^ all put out, expected higher wages 

 than if she had been able to do it." 



"But Tim came to us through the hospital," 

 said father, brightening as he caught at this plank 

 in a whirlpool of disasters, "and surely we could 

 not do without him." 



"No, Tim is the exception to the rule. In the 

 face of experience even, we should never dream of 

 parting from him or he from us, I firmly believe." 



