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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Drp Stud Win," said one; "Sum Slp Cov Bedrm," another; "Toil. Set & Pic. Frms." Mrs Brewster turned to her husband, almost shamefacedly, and yet with a little air of defiance. "It I don't know it made me not homesick, Hosey. Not homesick, exactly; but well, I guess I'm not the only woman with a walnut streak in her modern make-up. Here's the woman she came to the door with her hat on, and yet "
We saw the fore-horses make towards the right, then to the left, and every way but straight forwards; whilst Paddy bawled to Hosey "Keep the middle of the road, can't ye? I don't want ye to draw a pound at-all-at-all."
He took off his hat and threw it high in the air and opened his arms wide and emitted a whoop of sheer joy and relief. "Welcome home! Home!" She clung to him. "Oh, Hosey, isn't it wonderful? How big it looks! Huge!" "Land, yes." He strode from hall to dining-room, from kitchen to library. "I know how a jack-in-the-box feels when the lid's opened. No wonder it grins and throws out its arms."
They stopped in front of Hengel's meat market, and Hosey went in. Mrs. Brewster leaned back without comment. Inside the shop. "Well, I see you're back from the East," said Aug Hengel. "Yep." "We thought you'd given us the go-by, you stayed away so long." "No, sir-ree! Say, Aug, give me that piece of bacon the big piece. And send me up some corned beef to-morrow for corned beef and cabbage.
Her fresh young cheek was pressed against his dear, prickly one. So they stood for a long minute close. "Need a shave, dad." "Well gosh how did I know my best girl was coming!" He held her off. "What's the matter, Pink? Don't they like your covers any more?" "Not a thing, Hosey. Don't get fresh. They're redecorating my studio you know plasterers and stuff. I couldn't work.
They did little talking after that. By five o'clock he was down in the cellar. She heard him making a great sound of rattling and bumping and shaking and pounding and shoveling. She smelled the acrid odour of his stubby black pipe. "Hosey!" from the top of the cellar stairs. "Hosey bring up a can of preserves when you come." "What?" "Can of preserves." "What kind?" "Any kind you like."
"Is that so? I'd like to talk to her, Hosey. Take me over." She did talk to the quiet little woman in the plain blue suit. And the quiet little woman said: "Oh, dear, yes!" She ignored her r's fascinatingly, as New Yorkers do". We live in Connecticut. You see, you Wisconsin people have crowded us out of New York; no breathing space. Besides, how can one live here? I mean to say live.
They did little talking after that. By five o'clock he was down in the cellar. She heard him making a great sound of rattling and bumping and shaking and pounding and shovelling. She smelled the acrid odour of his stubby black pipe. "Hosey!" from the top of the cellar stairs. "Hosey, bring up a can of preserves when you come." "What?" "Can of preserves." "What kind?" "Any kind you like."
Let's go home, mother. Let's go home and breathe." In Wisconsin you are likely to find snow in April snow or slush. The Brewsters found both. Yet on their way up from the station in 'Gene Buck's flivver taxi, they beamed out at it as if it were a carpet of daisies. At the corner of Elm and Jackson Streets Hosey Brewster stuck his head out of the window. "Stop here a minute, will you, 'Gene?"
Brewster's hat, slippers, gown, and manner equalled in line, style, cut, and texture those of any other woman present, which rather surprised her until she had talked to five or six of them. She and Hosey drifted together and compared notes. "Say, Milly," he confided, "they're all from Wisconsin or approximately; Michigan, and Minnesota, and Iowa, and around.
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