The Gentle Art of Cooking Wives Part 16

"The cow is half a mile from you!" laughed Nannie. "She didn't even look toward you."

"Shure I felt her horns go into me back, an' as the saints live in glory, I see thim come out at me brist."

"Well, I wish I could see you come out at the cow-yard with that milk pail."

Bridget picked up her pieces, put herself together, and discontentedly ambled toward the cow-yard, averring that in spite of all Nannie might say, she knew she had a hole an inch wide in her left lung; she could feel the wind whistle through it.

"There's nothing the matter with your lungs," said Nannie, "as all the neighborhood knows by this time."

With a long, solemn countenance and a tear in each eye, Bridget approached Sarah Maria, who was breakfasting in a hasty, unhygienic manner.

"It's me life I take in me hand," murmured Bridget.

"Drop your life and take your pail instead, or are you going to milk into your ap.r.o.n?" said Nannie imperiously.

"Oh, me pail! Shure the head of me is turned intirely, bad cess to that cow! or I believe there's a hole through it, loike there is in me lung."

"Your head turned!" said Nannie scornfully. "I should say it was--turned inside out and emptied entirely."

But Bridget was wooing Mrs. Maria now.

"Aisy, now! Aisy, I say!" she muttered as she cautiously lowered herself onto the milking stool.

But by some mysterious law of opposites, as she went down the pail went up. Sarah Maria never ceased munching for a moment, but Nannie, who was fixedly regarding her and trying to calculate how much longer her breakfast would last, heard the crash, and looking around saw the pail on its way upward.

"Now may the saints forgive me if I imperil me life anny longer!"

cried Bridget from a safe distance.

"And may Sarah Maria forgive you for sitting down on the wrong side of her, you old goose!" screamed Nannie in her rude way.

"Howly Mither defind us! Did I do that now? Shure the twinty cows I milked in ould Oireland preferred that side, an' they were very particular about it, ivery last wan of thim."

"Now, don't crawl along that way," said Nannie impatiently as Bridget crept up to her, "and take hold as if you weren't afraid."

"Shure if I had a s.h.i.+llalah wid a sucker on the ind of it, it's milk her I wud, widout anny loss of me color, though she thritened me wid twinty horns an' as manny hind legs."

"Oh, you've got several bees in your bonnet, that's what's the matter with you!" exclaimed Nannie.

"Is it bees, ye say? Air they loose too?" screamed Bridget, jerking off her sunbonnet and tearing down her hair. "Is it bees as well as cows in me hid, an' ye standin' laffin loike ter kill yersilf at the very idee of me bein' murdered in cold blud!"

By this time her hair was distraught and her face flaming with excitement and exertion, and altogether she so closely resembled some avenging spirit that even Sarah Maria began to tremble before her.

As soon as Nannie could control herself she informed her that the terrifying words she used were merely a figure of speech.

"Clothed or not clothed----" Nannie began, but Bridget burst forth:

"An' I wuldn't hev belaved that anny young leddy wid a dacent raisin'

wud use figgers of s.p.a.che, widout clothes at that. It's Bridget O'Flannigan'll see if----"

But here Nannie's screams of laughter interrupted her.

"I believe you've a brick in your bonnet as well as a bee," she exclaimed.

This time Bridget understood, and clapping her sunbonnet (upside down) onto her disrumpled head, she wabbled toward the house.

This would never do, so Nannie ran and planted herself in front of her.

"Come, now, Bridget--dear Bridget, don't be mad with me," she said coaxingly.

Bridget had come to Mrs. Lamont's when Nannie was little more than eight years of age, and through the succeeding years of childhood and girlhood had been her stanch friend and her confidante in many a time of trouble.

"What shall I do with my cow? You surely will help me out!"

The fire faded from Bridget's flaming countenance, and she paused, irresolute as to her course.

"You won't desert me, Bridget, I know!" pleaded Nannie softly.

"Sure it's not Bridget O'Flannigan will desart an orphin child; but I make it distinct, an' ye hear me now, that I'm a respictable woman, not given to takin' a dhrop too much or too little, an' I won't stan'

an' be insulted, an' me twilve years over from ould Oireland come Saint Patrick's Day. An' even if I am doin' disrespictful work now, milkin' an ould cow in which the divil has taken up his risidince, I want yez still ter handle me character wid care."

No doubt Sarah Maria was awed by this address, or else the very uncomplimentary manner in which she herself was alluded to startled her into a realization of the steep down which she was rus.h.i.+ng and toward what pit her path inclined. Be that as it may, she contentedly munched the second pail of food which Nannie brought her, and granted the trembling Bridget peace and quiet in which to extract the cream and invoke the saints.

XII

Soon after the milking ordeal was at an end Nannie started over to the house of her cousins, the Misfits. It chanced that she happened upon this ill-mated couple in the nick of time.

"Glad to see you, Nan," exclaimed Mr. Misfit. "I have a day off, and Mrs. Misfit wants to take the boat trip. You must go with us."

"Yes, we've never been, and I told Henry we really ought to go! I am tired of being asked if I don't think it's pleasant, and having to say I don't know anything about it."

"You'll have to fly around and get ready, then, for we must take the next train in if we want to catch that boat. You'll go," he added as his wife slipped away to dress, "won't you, Nannie?"

Nannie stood regarding him with one of her elfin looks.

"You need me, don't you?" she said.

He laughed rather awkwardly. He always felt uncomfortable when Nannie looked at him that way.

"Why, yes, of course. We shall be glad of your company."

"I know why you wanted me to-day," said Nannie later on, when she was sitting out on the deck of the boat with him while Mrs. Misfit was taking a nap in the saloon.

He turned and looked at her, and saw it would be of no use to try to evade.

"There's something uncanny about this girl," he said to himself.