The Golden Woman

"An' when, may I ast, do I make bricks?" she inquired with ponderous sarcasm.

Joan stood abashed for a moment. So unexpected was the retort, so much was it at variance with her own mood that she had no answer ready, and the other was left with the field to herself.

"Now jest look right here, Miss Joan--ma'm," she cried, flourishing a cooking spoon to point her words. "I ain't a woman of many words by no means, as you might say, but what I sure says means what I mean, no more an' no less, as the sayin' is. I've kep' house all my life, an' I reckon ther's no female from St. Ellis ken show me. I've bin a wife an' a mother, an' raised my offsprings till they died. I did fer a man as knew wot's wot in my George D. An' if I suffered fer it, it was jest because I know'd my duty an' did it, no matter the consequences to me an' mine. I tell you right here, an' I'm a plain-spoken woman who's honest, as the sayin' is, I turn out no house, nor room, nor nothin' of an afternoon. I know my duty an' I do it. Ther's a chapter of the Bible fer every day o' my life, an' it needs digestin' good--with my dinner. An' I don't throw it up fer nobody."

"But--but----" Joan began to protest, but the other brushed objection aside with an added flourish of her spoon.

"It ain't no use fer you to persuade, nor cajole, nor argify. What I says goes fer jest so long as I'm willin' to accept your ter'ble ordinary wages, which I say right here won't be fer a heap long time if things don't change some. I'm a respectable woman an' wife that was, but isn't, more's the pity, an' it ain't my way to chase around the house a-screechin' at the top o' my voice jest as though I'd come from a cirkis. You ain't got your mind on your work. You ain't got your heart in it, singin' all over the house, like--like one o' them brazen cirkis gals. No, nor wot with scallawags a-comin' around sparkin' you, an' the boys shootin' theirselves dead over you, an' folks in the camp a-callin' of you a Jony gal, I don't guess I'll need to stay an' receive con--contamination, as you might say. That's how I'm feelin'; an' bein' a plain woman, an' a 'specterble widow of George D., who was a man every inch of him, mind you, if he had his failin's, chasin' other folks' cattle, an' not readin' their brands right, why, out it comes plump like a bad tooth you're mighty glad to be rid of, as the sayin' is."