"Gosh, you talk as though I had asked her to marry me. We are just good

friends. I enjoy visiting her and hearing her play."

"Yes, Martin, I know, but life ain't all piano playin' after you get

married, is it, Mom?"

Mrs. Landis laughed. "No, it's often other kinds of music! But I'm not

sorry I'm married." "Me neither," confirmed her husband. "And that,

Mart, is what you want to watch for when you pick a wife. Pick one so

that after you been livin' together thirty years you can both say

you're not sorry you married. That's the test!"

"Oh, some test!" the boy said drearily. "I--I guess you're right, both

of you. I guess it isn't a thing to rush into. But you don't know

Isabel. She's really a lovely, sweet girl."

"Of course she is," said his mother. "You just hold on to her and go

see her as often as you like. Perhaps when you've been at the bank a

while longer and can afford to get married you'll find she's the very

one you want. Any one you pick we'll like."

"Yes, of course, yes," said Mr. Landis. Wise parents! They knew that

direct opposition to the choice of the son would frustrate their hopes

for him. Let him go on seeing the butterfly and perhaps the sooner he'd

outgrow her charms, they thought.

But later, as Mr. Landis unlaced his shoes and his wife took off her

white Mennonite cap and combed her hair for the night, that mild man

sputtered and stormed. All the gentle acquiescence was fallen from him.

"That empty-headed doll has got our Mart just wrapped round her finger!

All she can say is 'Delicious, lovely, darling!'"

Mrs. Landis laughed at his imitation of the affected Isabel.

"Good guns, Mom, if any of our boys tie up with a doll like that it'll

break our hearts. Why couldn't Mart pick a sensible girl that can cook

and ain't too tony nor lazy to do it? A girl like Amanda Reist, now,

would be more suited to him. Poor Mart, he's bamboozled if he gets this

one! But if we told him that he'd be so mad he'd run to-morrow and

marry her. We got to be a little careful, I guess."

"Ach, yes, he'll get over it. He's a whole lot like you and I don't

believe he'd marry a girl like that."

"Well, let's hope he shows as good taste when he picks a wife as I did,

ain't, Mom?"




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