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If the man's sick, and 'tis incurable, well, so much the worse for him: but anyway Government stops paying for a fighting man that can't fight for that is what it amounts to." "You can't make it less," Miss Oliver agreed. "But doctors are terribly skilful nowadays with the knife," went on Mrs Polsue. "Very likely this growth, or whatever it is, might have been removed months ago."
"And you never told me, Cherry Oliver, until this moment!" exclaimed the widow. "One doesn't go about repeating every little trifle. . . . And, for that matter, Mrs Pamphlett was just as much amused as everybody else. 'Well, the bare idea! she cried out. 'I must speak to Pamphlett about this! And Mary-Martha Polsue, of all women! These were her very words.
" And that's me, ma'am. Honk!" added Farmer Best. "I'm what Parson called the skelliton of the machinery." He wound up with a wink at the company, and a wheezy laugh. "You may titter, all of you!" Mrs Polsue glared about her. "But if ever there was hole-and-corner sectarianism in this world And this is what we've come to listen to!" "You han't done much listenin' up to now, ma'am."
I have never quite understood why charity should begin at home, but I am sure that discipline ought to: and I sometimes think it ought to stay there." "That Mrs Polsue has such a disapproving face! . . . I wonder she ever brought herself to marry."
"You would hardly believe, Dr Mant" Mrs Polsue addressed him with an air of fine gentility, as the one person present who could understand "but I called on this poor body to advise and, if necessary, procure her some addition to her income from the Emergency Fund." "Oh, take her away!" sobbed Mrs Penhaligon, suddenly breaking down. "Isn't it enough to lie awake at night with your man at the wars?
The woman who had brought up the procession, found a place in the far corner, and began to unwind the comforter around her neck. Her eyes were brighter and more agitated than any in the room. "A brave trapse all the way from Upper Woon," remarked the youngest mother, wiping a smear of rain from her baby's forehead. "Ah, 'tis your first, Mary Polsue.
If it's been coming this long while; as everybody seems to say now; why couldn't we have waited until the clocks had finished striking twelve to-night or else done it yesterday, if there was all that hurry?" "The Battle of Waterloo was fought on a Sunday," Mrs Polsue put in. "I've often heard my great uncle Robert mention it as a remarkable fact."
I will say that Mr Steele has a very happy way of putting things. . . . So you really are going to lay information, Mary-Martha? If you see your duty so clear, I can't think why you troubled to consult me." "I shall do my duty," declared Mrs Polsue. "Without taking further responsibility, I shall certainly put Rat-it-all on the look-out."
"Now if you begin to talk like that when I've really made a beginning!" She pointed in triumph to the stacks of missives on the writing-table. "It's I who bungled, the other day, when I suggested your giving Mrs Polsue a duplicate list of the names and addresses. I thought it would please her and save you half the secretarial labour; and now it appears that you like the secretarial labour!"
You should take more exercise." Mrs Polsue eyed her severely. "When an unmarried woman gets to your time of life, she's apt to think that everything can be got over with Fruit Salts and an occasional dose of Somebody's Emulsion. Whereas it can't. I take a mile walk up the valley and back every day of my life." "I don't believe you could perspire if you tried, Mary-Martha."
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