MOTHER says that when I start talking I never know when to stop.
But I tell her the only time I get a chance is when she ain't
around, so I have to make the most of it. I guess the fact is
neither one of us would be welcome in a Quaker meeting, but as I
tell Mother, what did God give us tongues for if He didn't want
we should use them? Only she says He didn't give them to us to
say the same thing over and over again, like I do, and repeat
myself. But I say:
"Well, Mother," I say, "when people is like you and I and been
married fifty years, do you expect everything I say will be
something you ain't heard me say before? But it may be new to
others, as they ain't nobody else lived with me as long as you
have."
Yes, sir, we was married just fifty years ago the seventeenth day
of last December and my daughter and son-in-law was over from
Trenton to help us celebrate the Golden Wedding. My son-in-law is
John H. Kramer, the real estate man. He made $12,000 one year and
is pretty well thought of around Trenton; a good, steady, hard
worker. The Rotarians was after him a long time to join, but he
kept telling them his home was his club. But Edie fnally made him
join. That's my daughter.
Well, anyway, they come over to help us celebrate the Golden
Wedding and it was pretty crimpy weather and the furnace don't
seem to heat up no more like it used to and Mother made the
remark that she hoped this winter wouldn't be as cold as the
last, referring to the winter previous. So Edie said if she was
us, and nothing to keep us home, she certainly wouldn't spend no
more winters up here and why didn't we just shut off the water
and close up the house and go down to Tampa, Florida? You know we
was there four winters ago and staid five weeks, but it cost us
over three hundred and fifty dollars for hotel bill alone. So
Mother said we wasn't going no place to be robbed. So my
son-in-law spoke up and said that Tampa wasn't the only place in
the South, and besides we didn't have to stop at no high price
hotel but could rent us a couple rooms and board out somewheres,
and he had heard that St. Petersburg, Florida, was the spot and
if we said the word he would write down there and make inquiries.
Well, to make a long story short, we decided to do it and Edie
said it would be our Golden Honeymoon and for a present my
son-in-law paid the difference between a section and a
compartment so as we could have a compartment and have more
privatecy. In a compartment you have an upper and lower berth
just like the regular sleeper, but it is a shut in room by itself
and got a wash bowl. The car we went in was all compartments and
no regular berths at all. It was all compartments.
We went to Trenton the night before and staid at my daughter and
son-in-law and we left Trenton the next afternoon at 3.23 P.M.
This was the twelfth day of January. Mother set facing the front
of the train, as it makes her giddy to ride backwards. I set
facing her, which does not affect me. We reached North
Philadelphia at 4.03 P.M. and we reached West Philadelphia at
4.14, but did not go into Broad Street. We reached Baltimore at
6.30 and Washington, D.C., at 7.25. Our train laid over in
Washington two hours till another train come along to pick us up
and I got out and strolled up the platform and into the Union
Station. When I come back, our car had been switched on to
another track, but I remembered the name of it, the La Belle, as
I had once visited my aunt out in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, where
there was a lake of that name, so I had no difficulty in getting
located. But Mother had nearly fretted herself sick for fear I
would be left.
"Well," I said, "I would of followed you on the next train."
"You could of," said Mother, and she pointed out that she had the
money.
"Well," I said, "we are in Washington and I could of borrowed
from the United States Treasury. I would of pretended I was an
Englishman."
Our train pulled out of Washington at 9.40 P.M. and Mother and I
turned in early, I taking the upper. During the night we passed
through the green fields of old Virginia, though it was too dark
to tell if they was green or what color. When we got up in the
morning, we was at Fayetteville, North Carolina. We had breakfast
in the dining car and after breakfast I got in conversation with
the man in the next compartment to ours. He was from Lebanon, New
Hampshire, and a man about eighty years of age. His wife was with
him, and two unmarried daughters and I made the remark that I
should think the four of them would be crowded in one
compartment, but he said they had made the trip every winter for
fifteen years and knowed how to keep out of each other's way. He
said they was bound for Tarpon Springs.
We reached Charleston, South Carolina, at 12.50 P.M. and arrived
at Savannah, Georgia, at 4.20. We reached Jacksonville, Florida,
at 8.45 P.M. and had an hour and a quarter to lay over there, but
Mother made a fuss about me getting off the train, so we had the
darky make up our berths and retired before we left Jacksonville.
I didn't sleep good as the train done a lot of hemming and
hawing, and Mother never sleeps good on a train as she says she
is always worrying that I will fall out. She says she would
rather have the upper herself, as then she would not have to
worry about me, but I tell her I can't take the risk of having it
get out that I allowed my wife to sleep in an upper berth. It
would make talk.
We was up in the morning in time to see our friends from New
Hampshire get off at Tarpon Springs, which we reached at 6.53
A.M.
Several of our fellow passengers got off at Clearwater and some
at Belleair, where the train backs right up to the door of the
mammoth hotel. Belleair is the winter headquarters for the golf
dudes and everybody that got off there had their bag of sticks,
as many as ten and twelve in a bag. Women and all. When I was a
young man we called it shinny and only needed one club to play
with and about one game of it would of been a-plenty for some of
these dudes, the way we played it.
The train pulled into St. Petersburg at 8.20 and when we got off
the train you would think they was a riot, what with all the
darkies barking for the different hotels.
"It is a good thing we have got a place picked out to go to and
don't have to choose a hotel, as it would be hard to choose
amongst them if every one of them is the best."
We found a jitney and I give him the address of the room my
son-in-law had got for us and soon we was there and introduced
ourselves to the lady that owns the house, a young widow about
forty-eight years of age. She showed us our room, which was light
and airy with a comfortable bed and bureau and washstand. It was
twelve dollars a week, but the location was good, only three
blocks from Williams Park.
St. Pete is what folks calls the town, though they also call it
the Sunshine City, as they claim they's no other place in the
country where they's fewer days when Old Sol don't smile down on
Mother Earth, and one of the newspapers gives away all their
copies free every day when the sun don't shine. They claim to of
only give them away some sixty-odd times in the last eleven
years. Another nickname they have got for the town is "the Poor
Man's Palm Beach," but I guess they's men that comes there that
could borrow as much from the bank as some of the Willie boys
over to the other Palm Beach.
During our stay we paid a visit to the Lewis Tent City, which is
the headquarters for the Tin Can Tourists. But maybe you ain't
heard about them. Well, they are an organization that takes their
vacation trips by auto and carries everything with them. That is,
they bring along their tents to sleep in and cook in and they
don't patronize no hotels or cafeterias, but they have got to be
bona fide auto campers or they can't belong to the organization.
They tell me they's over 200,000 members to it and they call
themselves the Tin Canners on account of most of their food being
put up in tin cans. One couple we seen in the Tent City was a
couple from Brady, Texas, named Mr. and Mrs. Pence, which the old
man is over eighty years of age and they had come in their auto
all the way from home, a distance of 1,641 miles. They took five
weeks for the trip, Mr. Pence driving the entire distance.
The Tin Canners hails from every State in the Union and in the
summer time they visit places like New England and the Great
Lakes region, but in the winter the most of them comes to Florida
and scatters all over the State. While we was down there, they
was a national convention of them at Gainesville, Florida, and
they elected a Fredonia, New York, man as their president. His
title is Royal Tin Can Opener of the World. They have got a song
wrote up which everybody has got to learn it before they are a
member:
"The tin can forever! Hurrah, boys! Hurrah!
Up with the tin can! Down with the foe!
We will rally round the campfire, we'll rally once
again,
Shouting, 'We auto camp forever!'"
That is something like it. And the members has also got to have a
tin can fastened on to the front of their machine.
I asked Mother how she would like to travel around that way and
she said:
"Fine, but not with an old rattle brain like you driving."
"Well," I said, "I am eight years younger than this Mr. Pence who
drove here from Texas."
"Yes," she said, "but he is old enough to not be skittish."
Well, one of the first things we done in St. Petersburg was to go
to the Chamber of Commerce and register our names and where we
was from as they's great rivalry amongst the different States in
regards to the number of their citizens visiting in town and of
course our little State don't stand much of a show, but still
every little bit helps, as the fella says. All and all, the man
told us, they was eleven thousand names registered, Ohio leading
with some fifteen hundred-odd and New York State next with twelve
hundred. Then come Michigan, Pennsylvania and so on down, with
one man each from Cuba and Nevada.
The first night we was there, they was a meeting of the New
York-New Jersey Society at the Congregational Church and a man
from Ogdensburg, New York State, made the talk. His subject was
Rainbow Chasing. He is a Rotarian and a very convicting speaker,
though I forget his name.
Our first business, of course, was to find a place to eat and
after trying several places we run on to a cafeteria on Central
Avenue that suited us up and down. We eat pretty near all our
meals there and it averaged about two dollars per day for the two
of us, but the food was well cooked and everything nice and
clean. A man don't mind paying the price if things is clean and
well cooked.
On the third day of February, which is Mother's birthday, we
spread ourselves and eat supper at the Poinsettia Hotel and they
charged us seventy-five cents for a sirloin steak that wasn't
hardly big enough for one.
I said to Mother: "Well," I said, "I guess it's a good thing
every day ain't your birthday or we would be in the poorhouse."
"No," says Mother, "because if every day was my birthday, I would
be old enough by this time to of been in my grave long ago."
In the hotel they had a card-room where they was several men and
ladies playing five hundred and this new fangled whist bridge. We
also seen a place where they was dancing, so I asked Mother would
she like to trip tne light fantastic toe and she said no, she was
too old to squirm like you have got to do now days. We watched
some of the young folks at it awhile till Mother got disgusted
and said we would have to see a good movie to take the taste out
of our mouth. Mother is a great movie heroyne and we go twice a
week here at home.
But I want to tell you about the Park. The second day we was
there we visited the Park, which is a good deal like the one in
Tampa, only bigger, and they's more fun goes on here every day
than you could shake a stick at. In the middle they's a big
bandstand and chairs for the folks to set and listen to the
concerts, which they give you music for all tastes, from Dixie up
to classical pieces like Hearts and Flowers.
Then all around they's places marked off for different sports and
games--chess and checkers and dominoes for folks that enjoys
those kind of games, and roque and horse-shoes for the nimbler
ones. I used to pitch a pretty fair shoe myself, but ain't done
much of it in the last twenty years.
Well, anyway, we bought a membership ticket in the club which
costs one dollar for the season, and they tell me that up to a
couple years ago it was fifty cents, but they had to raise it to
keep out the riffraff.
Well, Mother and I put in a great day watching the pitchers and
she wanted I should get in the game, but I told her I was all out
of practice and would make a fool of myself, though I seen
several men pitching who I guess I could take their measure
without no practice. However, they was some good pitchers, too,
and one boy from Akron, Ohio, who could certainly throw a pretty
shoe. They told me it looked like he would win them championship
of the United States in the February tournament. We come away a
few days before they held that and I never did hear if he win. I
forget his name, but he was a clean cut young fella and he has
got a brother in Cleveland that's a Rotarian.
Well, we just stood around and watched the different games for
two or three days and finally I set down in a checker game with a
man named Weaver from Danville, Illinois. He was a pretty fair
checker player, but he wasn't no match for me, and I hope that
don't sound like bragging. But I always could hold my own on a
checker-board and the folks around here will tell you the same
thing. I played with this Weaver pretty near all morning for two
or three mornings and he beat me one game and the only other time
it looked like he had a chance, the noon whistle blowed and we
had to quit and go to dinner.
While I was playing checkers, Mother would set and listen to the
band, as she loves music, classical or no matter what kind, but
anyway she was setting there one day and between selections the
woman next to her opened up a conversation. She was a woman about
Mother's own age, seventy or seventy-one, and finally she asked
Mother's name and Mother told her her name and where she was from
and Mother asked her the same question, and who do you think the
woman was?
Well, sir, it was the wife of Frank M. Hartsell, the man who was
engaged to Mother till I stepped in and cut him out, fifty-two
years ago!
You can imagine Mother's surprise! And Mrs. Hartsell was
surprised, too, when Mother told her she had once been friends
with her husband, though Mother didn't say how close friends they
had been, or that Mother and I was the cause of Hartsell going
out West. But that's what we was. Hartsell left his town a month
after the engagement was broke off and ain't never been back
since. He had went out to Michigan and become a veterinary, and
that is where he had settled down, in Hillsdale, Michigan, and
finally married his wife.
Well, Mother screwed up her courage to ask if Frank was still
living and Mrs. Hartsell took her over to where they was pitching
horse-shoes and there was old Frank, waiting his turn. And he
knowed Mother as soon as he seen her, though it was over fifty
years. He said he knowed her by her eyes.
"Why, it's Lucy Frost!" he says, and he throwed down his shoes
and quit the game.
Then they come over and hunted me up and I will confess I
wouldn't of knowed him. Him and I is the same age to the month,
but he seems to show it more, some way. He is balder for one
thing. And his beard is all white, where mine has still got a
streak of brown in it. The very first thing I said to him, I
said:
"Well, Frank, that beard of yours makes me feel like I was back
north. It looks like a regular blizzard."
"Well," he said, "I guess yourn would be just as white if you had
it dry cleaned."
Well, I excused myself from the checker game and it was pretty
close to noon, so we decided to all have dinner together and they
was nothing for it only we must try their cafeteria on Third
Avenue. It was a little more expensive than ours and not near as
good, I thought. I and Mother had about the same dinner we had
been having every day and our bill was $1.10. Frank's check was
$1.20 for he and his wife. The same meal wouldn't of cost them
more than a dollar at our place.
After dinner we made them come up to our house and we all set in
the parlor, which the young woman had give us the use of to
entertain company. We begun talking over old times and Mother
said she was a-scared Mrs. Hartsell would find it tiresome
listening to we three talk over old times, but as it turned out
they wasn't much chance for nobody else to talk with Mrs.
Hartsell in the company. I have heard lots of women that could go
it, but Hartsell's wife takes the cake of all the women I ever
seen. She told us the family history of everybody in the State of
Michigan and bragged for a half hour about her son, who she said
is in the drug business in Grand Rapids, and a Rotarian.
When I and Hartsell could get a word in edgeways we joked one
another back and forth and I chafed him about being a horse
doctor.
"Well, Frank," I said, " you look pretty prosperous, so I suppose
they's been plenty of glanders around Hillsdale."
"Well," he said, "I've managed to make more than a fair living.
But I've worked pretty hard."
"Yes," I said, "and I suppose you get called out all hours of the
night to attend births and so on."
Well, I thought they wouldn't never go home and I and Mother was
in misery trying to keep awake, as the both of us generally
always takes a nap after dinner. Finally they went, after we had
made an engagement to meet them in the Park the next morning, and
Mrs. Hartsell also invited us to come to their place the next
night and play five hundred. But she had forgot that they was a
meeting of the Michigan Society that evening, so it was not till
two evenings later that we had our first card game.
Hartsell and his wife lived in a house on Third Avenue North and
had a private setting room besides their bedroom. Mrs. Hartsell
couldn't quit talking about their private setting room like it
was something wonderful. We played cards with them, with Mother
and Hartsell partners against his wife and I. Mrs. Hartsell is a
miserable card player and we certainly got the worst of it.
After the game she brought out a dish of oranges and we had to
pretend it was just what we wanted, though oranges down there is
like a young man's whiskers; you enjoy them at first, but they
get to be a pesky nuisance.
We played cards again the next night at our place with the same
partners and I and Mrs. Hartsell was beat again. Mother and
Hartsell was full of compliments for each other on what a good
team they made, but the both of them knowed well enough where the
secret of their success laid. I guess all and all we must of
played ten different evenings and they was only one night when
Mrs. Hartsell and I come out ahead. And that one night wasn't no
fault of hern.
When we had been down there about two weeks, we spent one evening
as their guest in the Congregational Church, at a social give by
the Michigan Society. A talk was made by a man named Bitting of
Detroit, Michigan, on How I was Cured of Story Telling. He is a
big man in the Rotarians and give a witty talk.
A woman named Mrs. Oxford rendered some selections which Mrs.
Hartsell said was grand opera music, but whatever they was my
daughter Edie could of give her cards and spades and not made
such a hullaballoo about it neither.
Then they was a ventriloquist from Grand Rapids and a young woman
about forty-five years of age that mimicked different kinds of
birds. I whispered to Mother that they all sounded like a
chicken, but she nudged me to shut up.
After the show we stopped in a drug store and I set up the
refreshments and it was pretty close to ten o'clock before we
finally turned in. Mother and I would of preferred tending the
movies, but Mother said we mustn't offend Mrs. Hartsell, though I
asked her had we came to Florida to enjoy ourselves or to just
not offend an old chatter-box from Michigan.
I felt sorry for Hartsell one morning. The women folks both had
an engagement down to the chiropodist's and I run across Hartsell
in the Park and he foolishly offered to play me checkers.
It was him that suggested it, not me, and I guess he repented
himself before we had played one game. But he was too stubborn to
give up and set there while I beat him game after game and the
worst part of it was that a crowd of folks had got in the habit
of watching me play and there they all was, hooking on, and
finally they seen what a fool Frank was making of himself, and
they began to chafe him and pass remarks. Like one of them said:
"You might maybe be good for tiddle-de-winks, but not checkers!
I almost felt like letting him beat me a couple games. But the
crowd would of knowed it was a put up job.
Well, the women folks joined us in the Park and I wasn't going to
mention our little game, but Hartsell told about it himself and
admitted he wasn't no match for me.
"Well," said Mrs. Hartsell, "checkers ain't much of a game
anyway, is it?" She said: "It's more of a children's game, ain't
it? At least, I know my boy's children used to play it a good
deal."
"Yes, ma'am," I said. "It's a children's game the way your
husband plays it, too."
"Anyway," says Frank, "Lucy and I is your master at five
hundred."
Well, I could of told him why that was, but had decency enough to
hold my tongue.
It had got so now that he wanted to play cards every night and
when I or Mother wanted to go to a movie, any one of us would
have to pretend we had a headache and then trust to goodness that
they wouldn't see us sneak into the theater. I don't mind playing
cards when my partner keeps their mind on the game, but you take
a woman like Hartsell's wife and how can they play cards when
they have got to stop every couple seconds and brag about their
son in Grand Rapids?
Well, the New York-New Jersey Society announced that they was
goin' to give a social evening too and I said to Mother, I said:
"Well, that is one evening when we will have an excuse not to
play five hundred."
"Yes," she said, "but we will have to ask Frank and his wife to
go to the social with us as they asked us to go to the Michigan
social."
"Well," I said, "I had rather stay home than drag that chatterbox
everywheres we go."
"I suppose if he is such good company you wished you had of
married him."
Mother laughed and said I sounded like I was jealous. Jealous of
a cow doctor!
Anyway we had to drag them along to the social and I will say
that we give them a much better entertainment than they had given
us.
Judge Lane of Paterson made a fine talk on business conditions
and a Mrs. Newell of Westfield imitated birds, only you could
really tell what they was the way she done it. Two young women
from Red Bank sung a choral selection and we clapped them back
and they gave us Home to Our Mountains and Mother and Mrs.
Hartsell both had tears in their eyes. And Hartsell, too.
Well, some way or another the chairman got wind that I was there
and asked me to make a talk and I wasn't even going to get up,
but Mother made me, so I got up and said:
"Ladies and gentlemen," I said. "I didn't expect to be called on
for a speech on an occasion like this or no other occasion as I
do not set myself up as a speech maker, so will have to do the
best I can, which I often say is the best anybody can do."
Then I told them the story about Pat and the motorcycle, using
the brogue, and it seemed to tickle them and I told them one or
two other stories, hut altogether I wasn't on my feet more than
twenty or twenty-five minutes and you ought to of heard the
clapping and hollering when I set down. Even Mrs. Hartsell
admitted that I am quite a speechifier and said if I ever went to
Grand Rapids, Michigan, her son would make me talk to the
Rotarians.
When it was over, Hartsell wanted we should go to their house and
play cards, but his wife reminded him that it was after 9.30
P.M., rather a late hour to start a card game, but he had went
crazy on the subject of cards, probably because he didn't have to
play partners with his wife. Anyway, we got rid of them and went
home to bed.
It was the next morning, when we met over to the Park, that Mrs.
Hartsell made the remark that she wasn't getting no exercise so I
suggested that why didn't she take part in the roque game.
She said she had not played a game of roque in twenty years, but
if Mother would play she would play. Well, at first Mother
wouldn't hear of it, but finally consented, more to please Mrs.
Hartsell than anything else.
Well, they had a game with a Mrs. Ryan from Eagle, Nebraska, and
a young Mrs. Morse from Rutland, Vermont, who Mother had met down
to the chiropodist's. Well, Mother couldn't hit a flea and they
all laughed at her and I couldn't help from laughing at her
myself and finally she quit and said her back was too lame to
stoop over. So they got another lady and kept on playing and soon
Mrs. Hartsell was the one everybody was laughing at, as she had a
long shot to hit the black ball, and as she made the effort her
teeth fell out on to the court. I never seen a woman so flustered
in my life. And I never heard so much laughing, only Mrs.
Hartsell didn't join in and she was madder than a hornet and
wouldn't play no more, so the game broke up.
Mrs. Hartsell went home without speaking to nobody, but Hartsell
stayed around and finally he said to me, he said:
"Well, I played you checkers the other day and you beat me bad
and now what do you say if you and me play a game of horseshoes?"
I told him I hadn't pitched a shoe in sixteen years, but Mother
said:
"Go ahead and play. You used to be good at it and maybe it will
come back to you."
Well, to make a long story short, I give in. I oughtn't to of
never tried it, as I hadn't pitched a shoe in sixteen years, and
I only done it to humor Hartsell.
Before we started, Mother patted me on the back and told me to do
my best, so we started in and I seen right off that I was in for
it, as I hadn't pitched a shoe in sixteen years and didn't have
my distance. And besides, the plating had wore off the shoes so
that they was points right where they stuck into my thumb and I
hadn't throwed more than two or three times when my thumb was raw
and it pretty near killed me to hang on to the shoe, let alone
pitch it.
Well, Hartsell throws the awkwardest shoe I ever seen pitched and
to see him pitch you wouldn't think he would ever come nowheres
near, but he is also the luckiest pitcher I ever seen and he made
some pitches where the shoe lit five and six feet short and then
schoonered up and was a ringer. They's no use trying to beat that
kind of luck.
They was a pretty fair size crowd watching us and four or five
other ladies besides Mother, and it seems like, when Hartsell
pitches, he has got to chew and it kept the ladies on the anxious
seat as he don't seem to care which way he is facing when he
leaves go.
You would think a man as old as him would of learnt more manners.
Well, to make a long story short, I was just beginning to get my
distance when I had to give up on account of my thumb, which I
showed it to Hartsell and he seen I couldn't go on, as it was raw
and bleeding. Even if I could of stood it to go on myself, Mother
wouldn't of allowed it after she seen my thumb. So anyway I quit
and Hartsell said the score was nineteen to six, but I don't know
what it was. Or don't care, neither.
Well, Mother and I went home and I said I hoped we was through
with the Hartsells as I was sick and tired of them, but it seemed
like she had promised we would go over to their house that
evening for another game of their everlasting cards.
Well, my thumb was giving me considerable pain and I felt kind of
out of sorts and I guess maybe I forgot myself, but anyway, when
we was about through playing Hartsell made the remark that he
wouldn't never lose a game of cards if he could always have
Mother for a partner.
"Well, you had a chance fifty years ago to always have her for a
partner, but you wasn't man enough to keep her."
I was sorry the minute I had said it and Hartsell didn't know
what to say and for once his wife couldn't say nothing. Mother
tried to smooth things over by making the remark that I must of
had something stronger than tea or I wouldn't talk so silly. But
Mrs. Hartsell had froze up like an iceberg and hardly said good
night to us and I bet her and Frank put in a pleasant hour after
we was gone.
As we was leaving, Mother said to him: "Never mind Charley's
nonsense, Frank. He is just mad because you beat him all hollow
pitching horseshoes and playing cards."
She said that to make up for my slip, but at the same time she
certainly riled me. I tried to keep ahold of myself, but as soon
as we was out of the house she had to open up the subject and
begun to scold me for the break I had made.
Well, I wasn't in no mood to be scolded. So I said:
"I guess he is such a wonderful pitcher and card player that you
wished you had married him."
"Well," she said, "at least he ain't a baby to give up pitching
because his thumb has got a few scratches."
"And how about you," I said, "making a fool of yourself on the
roque court and then pretemiding your back is lame and you can't
play no more!"
"Yes," she said, "but when you hurt your thumb I didn't laugh at
you, and why did you laugh at me when I sprained my back?"
"I'll remember that!" said Mother, and that's the last word she
said to me for two days.
We seen the Hartsells the next day in the Park and I was willing
to apologize, but they just nodded to us. And a couple days later
we heard they had left for Orlando, where they have got
relatives.
"Listen, Charley," she said. "This is our Golden Honeymoon and we
don't want the whole thing spoilt with a silly old quarrel."
"Well," I said, "did you mean that about wishing you had married
Hartsell?"
"Of course not," she said, "that is, if you didn't mean that you
wished I had, too." So I said:
"I was just tired and all wrought up. I thank God you chose me
instead of him as they's no other woman in the world who I could
of lived with all these years."
"Good gracious!" I said. "Imagine being married to a woman that
plays five hundred like she does and drops her teeth on the roque
court!"
"Well," said Mother, "it wouldn't be no worse than being married
to a man that expectorates towards ladies and is such a fool in a
checker game."
So I put my arm around her shoulder and she stroked my hand and I
guess we got kind of spoony.
They was two days left of our stay in St. Petersburg and the next
to the last day Mother introduced me to a Mrs. Kendall from
Kingston, Rhode Island, who she had met at the chiropodist's.
Mrs. Kendall made us acquainted with her husband, who is in the
grocery business. They have got two sons and five grandchildren
and one great-grandchild. One of their sons lives in Providence
and is way up in the Elks as well as a Rotarian.
We found them very congenial people and we played cards with them
the last two nights we was there. They was both experts and I
only wished we had met them sooner instead of running into the
Hartsells. But the Kendalls will be there again next winter and
we will see more of them, that is, if we decide to make the trip
again.
We left the Sunshine City on the eleventh day of February, at 11
A.M. This give us a day trip through Florida and we seen all the
country we had passed through at night on the way down.
We reached Jacksonville at 7 P.M. and pulled out of there at 8.10
P.M. We reached Fayetteville, North Carolina, at nine o'clock the
following morning, and reached Washington, D. C., at 6.30 P.M.,
laying over there half an hour.
We reached Trenton at 11.01 P.M. and had wired ahead to my
daughter and son-in-law and they met us at the train and we went
to their house and they put us up for the night. John would of
made us stay up all night, telling about our trip, but Edie said
we must be tired and made us go to bed. That's my daughter.
The next day we took our train for home and arrived safe and
sound, having been gone just one month and a day.