A Daughter of the Land

"Honestly, Mother, I don't want a thing on earth but to go home

with you and do as you say for the next ten years," said Kate.

"Stiffen up!" cried Mrs. Bates. "Stiffen up!" "Don't be no

broken reed, Katie! I don't want you dependin' on ME; I came to

see if you would let ME lean on YOU the rest of the way. I wa'n't

figuring that there was anything on this earth that could get you

down; so's I was calculatin' you'd be the very one to hold me up.

Since you seem to be feeling unaccountably weak in the knees,

let's see if we can brace them a little. Livin' with Pa so long

must kind of given me a tendency toward nussin' a deed. I've got

one here I had executed two years ago, and I was a coming with it

along about now, when 'a little bird tole me' to come to-day, so

here I am. Take that, Katie."

Mrs. Bates pulled a long sealed envelope from the front of her

dress and tossed it in Kate's lap.

"Mother, what is this?" asked Kate in a hushed voice.

"Well, if you'd rather use your ears than your eyes, it's all the

same to me," said Mrs. Bates. "The boys always had a mortal

itchin' to get their fingers on the papers in the case. I can't

say I don't like the difference; and I've give you every chance,

too, an you WOULDN'T demand, you WOULDN'T specify. Well, I'll

just specify myself. I'm dead tired of the neighbours taking care

of me, and all of the children stoppin' every time they pass, each

one orderin' or insinuatin' according to their lights, as to what

I should do. I've always had a purty clear idea of what I wanted

to do myself. Over forty years, I sided with Pa, to keep the

peace; NOW I reckon I'm free to do as I like. That's my side.

You can tell me yours, now."

Kate shook her head: "I have nothing to say."

"Jest as well," said Mrs. Bates. "Re-hashing don't do any good.

Come back, and come to-day; but stiffen up. That paper you are

holding is a warrantee deed to the home two hundred to you and

your children after you. You take possession to-day. There's

money in the bank to paper, an' paint, and make any little changes

you'd like, such as cutting doors or windows different places,

floorin' the kitchen new, or the like. Take it an' welcome. I

got more 'an enough to last me all my days; all I ask of you is my

room, my food, and your company. Take the farm, and do what you

pretty please with it."

"But, Mother!" cried Kate. "The rest of them! They'd tear me

limb for limb. I don't DARE take this."