Wooing His Wife by Sel.

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jun 17, 1886

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 12, No. 23.

Wooing His Wife.

By Sel.

ALTHOUGH Farmer Tucker had long dreamed of a visit to Chautauqua, when he found himself at that Mecca of devout excursionists, the brawny man was tempted to doubt his own identity. The holiday surroundings were wholly unlike anything to which he was accustomed in his prosy New England home; the rich, crowded programme offered was in striking contrast to the dull monotony of farm life. When this son of toil first entered the auditorium and saw the rustic amphitheater crowded with thousands of people listening breathlessly to the full, sweet tone of the grand organ, his cramped, selfish heart was strangely touched and expanded. For an instant the wish crept in that he had asked Jane if she would not like to come too. But there was not much time for his own thoughts, for, as the music ceased, a white-haired gentleman arose, and announced the name of an orator who is well known from Maine to California.

“Well, now, it beats all to think I’m going to hear the man I’ve wanted to hear for more’n twenty years,” Farmer Tucker whispered to himself. The lecturer commenced his brief address with one of his inimitable descriptions.

The story was of a man who applied for a divorce, and was advised by his eminent lawyer to try the effect of making love to his wife as he had done before marrying her, instead of resorting to the measure he had proposed. It included, also, an account of a late visit, when the happy husband withdrew his application, and, fairly dancing with glee, assured the lawyer that his experiment had worked like a charm; that “Sally had become as amiable and affectionate a wife as a man could ask to have.” His representation of the scene drew forth long applause, but Samuel Tucker’s interest was of too serious a nature to permit him joining in the laughter. As if unconscious for a moment of the multitude about him, he said in an undertone: “I’d be willing to take my oath that wouldn’t work with Jane. All I have to say is, that man’s wife is different from mine; I’d as soon think of feeding serrup to a mummy as to begin sparking again with her.”

At length he quieted his conscience with the determination to prove that his estimate of his wife was correct. “When I go home,” he said to himself, “I’ll just show the woman some little attentions, and I’ll see they won’t have any more effect on her than they would on the old horse. Jane’s bound to be sullen and obstinate, and I suppose I may as well make up my mind to it.”

On reaching home the resolution was not easily carried out. When Mr. Tucker planned some gallantry toward his wife, the very thought made him feel so unnatural and foolish that postponement resulted; but Sunday offered an opportunity that he improved.

The farm was nearly a mile from church, yet Samuel Tucker had for years been in the habit of driving home alone, leaving his wife to attend the Sunday-school, and then walk home, as best she could, through mud or dust. Great was Mrs. Tucker’s astonishment, therefore, on Sunday after her husband’s return, to find him waiting for her at the close of the Bible-service. The faintest suspicion that he had driven back to church for her did not cross the good woman’s mind; she supposed he had business with some of the brethren, and hesitated whether to walk on as usual or to suggest waiting for him, when the farmer called out, “It’s just as cheap to ride as to walk.” Silently the woman took her seat in the buggy, and silently they drove home, much to the husband’s satisfaction, for it seemed to him a proof of the woman’s dull, inappreciative nature. “She didn’t act pleased, but was only dazed like, as I knew she would be,” he muttered, as he went about his midday “chores.”

At the same time Mr. Tucker was conscious of having performed a most praiseworthy act, and felt so comfortable that he resolved to repeat the experiment. So, on the following Sunday, Jane found her husband again waiting, and, as she mounted the high buggy, ventured to utter a half audible, “Thank you,” and to ask Samuel if he had been waiting long, to which Mr. Tucker replied that he had just reached the church, and didn’t know but what he might find she had started on foot. This reply seemed to Jane a positive assurance that her husband had really returned for the sole purpose of taking her home, and her chilled heart glowed with warmth unknown for years. She longed to tell her husband how much she appreciated his trouble, but imagined that it would sound “so foolish” that she kept her pleasure to herself.

The third Sunday was rainy, and, as she washed the breakfast dishes, Mrs. Tucker kept thinking, “I wonder if Samuel means to come for me this noon. It would be such a help in the rain. I’m half a mind to ask him!” This resolution was soon stifled with the reasoning which had stifled many similar resolves in the past ten years: “No, I won’t ask no favors; if he don’t think enough of me to come, why he needn’t.” Although proudly unwilling to seek any attentions, Jane longed for some demonstration of her husband’s love and care. She had walked home in the rain too often to greatly dread such exposure. But a week before the wife had tasted the joy of being considered, and longed for further proof of her companion’s affection.

Mrs. Tucker’s heart leaped for joy when at noon she saw the old mare’s head from the lecture-room window. Indeed, her hungering heart became quite unmanageable, and, entering the carriage door, melted, Jane sobbed out:—

“I’m sure it’s very good of you, Samuel, to come for me this rainy day.” And then the tears flowed so fast that further words were impossible.

Completely taken by surprise, Mr. Tucker exclaimed, “I declare, I hadn’t no idea you’d care so much about it.”

“I wouldn’t mind the walk,” responded the wife, “but—Samuel—I’m so happy to have you—come.”

The strong man was brushing away a tear from his own cheek; now his tenderer, better nature was mastering the hard, selfish spirit which had long possessed him, and, with coughing and choking, he said: “Jane, I see I’ve made an awful botch of our married life; if you’ve a mind to forgive me, I’ll see if I can’t treat you from day to day as a woman ought to be treated.”

This confession was too much for the weeping wife, and she answered, quickly:—

“You’re not a bit more to blame than I am; I’ve been proud and obstinate; but I tell you what it is, we will begin all over again.”

The ice was now thoroughly broken and that afternoon Farmer Tucker and his wife had a long talk over the past and future. And in the evening, when they were about to start for the prayer-meeting to be held in the neighboring school-house, the renewed husband stooped and kissed his wife, saying:—

“Jane, I’ve been a-thinking that married life ain’t so different from farming or any other occupation. Now, I ain’t such a fool as to think a field will keep a-yielding if I only enrich it once and plant it once. I have to go over the same ground every season; and here I supposed you was a-going to do as you always did when we were a-courting, without my doing my part at all.”

“If I hadn’t changed any may be you would always have been as tender as you used to be,” pleaded his wife.

“Perhaps so and perhaps not; but I don’t mean to leave you to try no such plan. I tell you what it is, Jane, I feel as if we hadn’t really never been married till to-day. It most seems as we ought to take a wedding tower.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until next summer for that,” was the smiling response.

“I suppose we shall, but we’ll take it then, certain; and I’ll tell you where we’ll go, wife—that’s to Chautauquay.”—Sel.