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And the way Pete can iron a b'iled shirt is a wonder. . . . Yaas; he found his job at last; plain and decorative ironin'. Often I've seen Maggy, holdin' up a batch of clo's, with pride just oozin' out of her, and heard her say, 'There ain't a person in these here United States that kin slip a flatiron over dry-goods the way my Pete kin." "Once upon a time," said Mr.
Wilkins, ironing rapidly as she spoke, "that folks is very like clothes, and a sight has to be done to keep 'em clean and whole. All on us has to lend a hand in this dreadful mixed-up wash, and each do our part, same as you and me is now. There's scrubbin' and bilin', wrenchin' and bluein', dryin' and foldin', ironin' and polishin', before any of us is fit for wear a Sunday mornin'."
She'll be all worn out inside of a year. Think of her doin' all the washin' an' ironin' an' bakin' with them soft white hands an' arms, an' sweepin'! I can't have it so, noways, father." Mrs. Penn's face was burning; her mild eyes gleamed.
"We had luncheon on the way," replied Grace. "Lucky for ye. I'll go work at the ironin'; then I've got to clean house. Mebby then I'll talk to ye." Joe stamped back into the house, slamming the door behind her, and the Overland Riders lost themselves in gales of laughter, galloping their horses on beyond the house so that Joe might not hear. Tom followed along slowly, considerably crestfallen.
He did all the sweepin' and the washin' and the ironin' and most of the cookin'. He couldn't bear to have Luella lift her finger, and she let him do for her. She lived like a queen for all the work she did.
"Sure and it's every minute of twelve o'clock or a half-hour into Sunday mornin' afore you ever see the outside of this place of a Saturday in summer-time, with all the washin' and ironin' for the summer hotels and the big bugs as is at the sea-shore." "Youse ain't got no kick coming," said one of the Ginney girls.
What with sweepin' and dustin' and scrubbin' and washin' and ironin' and bringin' up children and feedin' pigs and cows and chickens and churnin' and waitin' on your father, it's no wonder I'm a helpless cripple with the misery in my back." "Dried peaches again," Matilda observed, scornfully, as Rosemary put a small saucer of fruit before her. "Who told you to get dried peaches?"
Had eight children right along in a string 'thout stoppin', done all her own work, never kep' no gal nor nothin'; allers up and dressed; allers to meetin' Sunday, and to the prayer-meetin' weekly, and never stops workin': when 'tan't one thing it's another cookin', washin', ironin', making butter and cheese, and 'tween spells cuttin' and sewin', and if she ain't doin' that, why, she's braidin' straw to sell to the store or knitting she's the perpetual motion ready found, Mis' Pitkin is."
"I stayed there till I was married. Then I come to Vicksburg, Mississippi. Had nine children and all dead but two. "Me? Oh, I done washin' and ironin' mostly, cooked and most anything I could get to do. I'm all worked down now though. "We emigrated from Georgia to Mississippi. All my children born there. "I 'member the soldiers had guns and we was scared of 'em.
"Is this the only one you've got?" she inquired. "It's awful dirty." "Hum! Yes, I ain't tended up to my washin' and ironin' the way I'd ought to. I'll lose my job if I don't look out, hey?"
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