Tactics

Tacti 1CS By Ida Stewart Peay Tom Dalby looked quizzically at his wife from across the luncheon table. He admitted to himself that he did not love her less because she had hurried through her morning toilet, omitting all the little touches which made her at times so ex- quisite. She was delightfully lovely, any- way; her wonderful, dark eyes, her creamy skin, her sensitive, red mouth — these need- ed nothing to enhance their lure. Still the little things counted for much and Tom realized that he was continually wishing Kate would find time for them. Every morning he started the fire, prepared the breakfast, swept the kitchen, and did a number of small jobs to save time for her, yet the hours slipped by and she was al- ways crowded. These wandering thoughts in the back of the man's mind were soon routed; his wife's grace of movement and quick smile as she served his meal brought other thoughts racing. Kate had a charm; there was no doubt of that. She thrilled him as no other woman ever could; and he had not been the only man to admire her. He would always marvel that he out-rivaled that magnetic giant, Samuelson, and rich Jack Sloan; and there had been others, plenty of others. Tom considered himself a lucky chap to have won such a prize. When he finished eating he settled him- self in the great chair — a most precious possession — and beckoned to the woman of his choice. He was suffused with pleas- ure when she came shyly, roguishly into his arms for their daily love-feast. It was difficult to put an end to such bliss, even for a time, but, knowing that he must get back to work, Tom soon made ready to leave. "Are you going to take me to the city to the big show, tonight?" his wife in- quired, more to detain him a moment or two longer than in any desire for in- formation. Tom had already spoken of it. consequently she knew they were going She had learned by experience that when Tom proposed anything the plan for its accomplishment had been worked out previously in his mind. "Bet your life," Tom responded whole- heartedly. "We really ought to leave here by five-thirty to give us plenty of time for any little detaining incident which might arise — " "For example, old cautious?" Kate teased. "Oh, I suppose we can make it if we leave by six-thirty," Tom laughed a trifle sheepishly. "I'll take the car to the garage with me now and have it put in shape so when I get out at six I can drive right down. If you are ready, we can hop off 'instanter.' We'll take dinner at Shaws." "Fine!" Kate clapped her hands; her gayety was like a child's. It was an im- mense pleasure to take Kate any place, she was so naively enthusiastic. The joy of every amusement brought the starshine, as Tom called it, into her deep, dark eyes, and bubbling expressions of delight to her lips. Some haunting memory, however, turned Tom about, before he had pro- ceeded to the edge of the porch. "Be sure you're ready at six-thirty, dearest, won't you?" he said quickly. Kate did not reply. She dropped her head slightly forward in a hurt posture; her eyes reproached. The man dashed back to fold her in his arms in a gesture of apology. "Of course, you'll be ready," he affirmed warmly, re- gretfully. "Good-bye, darling, so long." It was harder every day to leave Kate at noon, Tom reflected, becoming ex- travagantly kind in his thoughts of his wife as he raced to his place of business. His love amounted to adoration. How could he say those little mean things to hurt her? It was contemptible of him; he felt ashamed. Of course, she had faults;

TACTICS 493 everybody had. He had expected to find faults in her, but God forbid that he should find fault with her. He wanted his life with Kate to be ideal. It was unendurable to think of them becoming quarrelsome like some married couples he knew. Although Tom persisted in his mag- nanimous reflections about his wife all afternoon — unaware that there was any "hoodoo" in such a procedure — he did his work with his customary precision and was ready to leave his store two minutes before six o'clock. According to his pre-arrangement, his car was in con- dition and waiting for him in a garage a few doors distant. Tom jumped into it and whirled away. He could reach home in two minutes, he thought; then he could dash into the house, doff his clothes, bathe, shave and re-dress in the remaining time and be ready to leave at six-thirty as he had planned. Even then there would be barely time to get to the show house at eight-fifteen as it would require at least an hour for the dinner. Abounding with energy, Tom made the kitchen door in six or eight jumps. He started to run through the house in search of Kate, but came to an abrupt stop before the bath room door; a tell-tale splashing of water was plainly to be heard. "Aren't you ready, dear?" he called, all his disappointment finding vent in a chiding tone of voice. "I'll be ready as soon as you are," was the slightly aggrieved answer. "But I'll have to wait for the bath room," Tom's tone betrayed his deep vexation. After he had laid out his clothes and curbed his impatience about ten min- utes, Kate came scurrying out, enveloped in a colorful silk robe. "I shan't be two minutes," she avowed cheerfully. Tom rushed through his preparations without further words. In spite of the delay, he was clean and into his clothes on scheduled time. Kate was not ready. "Can't I help you?" Tom asked of his wife as he waited. "Where are your slip- pers?" Dreamy-eyed and unhurried Kate was arranging a curl. "I don't know," she remarked. Tom hunted in every room before he found the elusive footwear. Then because other things of Kate's were in mischievous hiding her toilet progressed slowly. Finally Tom consulted his watch; it was six- forty-five. "Why weren't you ready, Kate?" He could not refrain from display- ing his annoyance. Kate gave him a bright smile. "Didn't you notice the kitchen?" she asked in- credulously. "Why, no." "Just like a man." Tom went into the kitchen to investi- gate. Of all things! Everything, indeed, was spotless. He had failed to observe it as he scampered through the room a few minutes before. The shelves were clean and white, the floor was scoured, the stove was polished, the windows gleamed, the ruffled curtains were freshly done. "It looks mighty fine in there," he told his wife a moment later, trying not to speak grudgingly; "mighty fine; but, honey, the afternoon is no time for such a job — especially when we are going out." "When is the time, pray?" There was edge to Kate's voice. "Forenoon," said the methodical Tom, doggedly. "You mean you would do it before noon," Kate returned. "Most any good housewife would; there's a time for everything." "Indeed!" Kate was in high dudgeon. "No doubt there's a time when you like to do your work and you do it at that time; I wouldn't think of interfering with you. Likewise I'll do mine when I please; I like to work in the afternoon." "Or at night," twitted Tom, remember- ing that Kate had cleaned her kitchen after dark last week, when he had tickets for a baseball game. "Are you going to dictate to me when I do my work?" Kate blazed. "Why, no, dear; but don't you think you're rather arbitrary to waste your morn- ings and work afternoons? Then you're not ready to receive callers, or to go out in the evening with me, if we have an

494 IMPROVEMENT ERA engagement." Tom blundered on deter- mined to try to show Kate the folly of her lack of routine. "Your habits inter- fere with your own pleasure — " "And yours?" violently. "Well, — " conceding — "but that isn't the point, exactly, there's your reputation as — " "That's enough," Kate stopped him, her eyes flashing; "I'll do my work when and how I wish, and I'll neither work nor play on the tick of the clock as you do, old Philias Fogg; you may as well know it now as later." She was very brave and defiant for a moment, but the next in- stant she had covered her face and was sobbing with irritation. "Oh, why did you marry me? You knew I was not like you. Minnie Lee is your type; she wouldn't sneeze out of the allotted time for sneezing if it were to save her life." Tom burst out laughing and swiftly repented. When he realized that he had really precipitated a quarrel, he was deeply scornful of his behavior. He apologized, wiped away Kate's tears, soothed, ca- ressed, and praised her. It should never happen again. Of course, they were late for the play, although they went without dinner. Kate's pleasure in the evening was unmarred; Tom was obliged to fight for peace of mind whenever his thoughts reverted to his thwarted plan. After Tom and Kate's life had gone on together for sometime, there loomed before Tom a much greater problem than Kate's irregular habits, although he con- sidered the difficulty an actual out-growth of them. Because of Kate's hostility to plans or methods of any kind she and Tom had not cooperated in the management of their financial affairs. This fact had worried Tom all the time. He was quite aware of his limitations; he was not and never would be a great financier. He knew he would probably not make a large amount of money, ever. A few years before he was married, he had started a small business without capital; tireless work and excessive prudence had brought success. The business was very surely growing; it was paying him a comfortable salary. Recently he had been wondering how he could get ahead of the game — as he put it to himself — lay something away for emergencies, or buy a home. This thought had really been developing in his mind, unobtrusively, since the day of his mar- riage; now that he had a child to plan for, the idea was occupying a prominent place in his daily speculations. He be- lieved that if he could get Kate even to consent to cooperate with him he could manage. Finally he divulged his ambition to her. Not until he had spoken did he realize how firmly intrenched was his de- sire. "Kate, you know that Harvery place, on Elm street?" he said. "That darling little bungalow that is all windows and verandas?" Kate inquired, her face lighting instantly with curiosity and anticipation. "And has a flower garden and climbing roses on the south and a lovely little garden in the back?" "That same," smiled Tom. "What about it?" Kate demanded eagerly, perching herself upon Tom's knee with the assurance of one well beloved. "How would you like to live there?" Tom grinned enigmatically. "Oh, Tom, you magnificent marvel! Are you actually going to buy me that love of a nest? It's my pick of the whole town. Tom you're a wonder and a de- light! I didn't know you had a cent of money. Where did you get it? When can we move in?" "Not so fast," Tom stopped her, alarmed; "I didn't say I was going to buy it for you." "But why did you raise my hopes?" "I just asked you if you would like to live there; now, let's take one step at a time." "All right; and I said I would — that I was wild about it — what then? Can't you buy it for me, dear?" "Do you suspect me of having a fairy God-mother?" "But it isn't like you to suggest the impossible, Tom." "No; and I haven't. I can't buy it for you, because, you know if you stop to

TACTICS 495 ihink, I have no money put away; but you and I together can buy it, and move in there as soon as we like." "Tom, you riddle! How, pray? I haven't any money." "I believe," Tom began, treading gin- gerly, "I believe if we made a budget and economized a little, we could buy it on the installment plan out of our living money — out of the money I am making now — " "Oh, Tom, those horrid old budgets! I simply despise them. They are so nig- gardly. We are spending all we make right now; in fact, a little more, we're still owing on our silver candle sticks, and on our down quilt, and on those Japanese vases." "We can stop buying things of that sort for a while. Wouldn't you rather have a home of your own than those 'nicknacks' — a home and a garden where sonny can play out in the sunshine, and where we can have flowers and fresh vegetables?" "It seems like I would, but I don't know until I understand better what is meant by that budget system. I've heard people talking about it, but so far I've failed to comprehend just what it i9. And how can we economize? Why, we are just barely living decently, now." "We could live about as well but a little more consistently; we have three times as much to spend at present a9 we had the first year of our marriage." "But we have sonny, now, and I have to keep a maid," Kate said. "When we get in that little, new bungalow, where everything is convenient, we can manage differently." "How do you mean?" "If I helped as I used to when we were first married, and if your work were or- ganized, we could let Fanny go; that would save us enough to pay half of each installment on the house." "What do you mean about my work being organized? I'll just have you explain that for once," Kate blinked with forced patience. "Done regularly and methodically." "With my nose to the grind stone, I suppose; no rest, no leisure — " "By no means; method and regularity, with reasonable variation, makes work simple, insures leisure; I would need an extra clerk at the store if all the work were not planned very carefully; in fact, almost to the minute." "Explain just how you would organize my work for me to do alone." "Remember, I promised to help," Tom defended. "And to organize it — now do so." "To begin with, we'd send the laundry away from the house Monday morning. We'd engage a nurse maid to take care of the baby whenever you wish to leave him. Then, to accomplish our daily routine, we'd need to get up at a certain time every morning — say, six o'clock." Kate's pretty mouth registered derision, but Tom proceeded, a picture of the little house and realization that there was no other way to obtain it, luring him on. "I could easily help you two hours. In that time, with both of us on the job, we could get quite a bit of the day's work done, couldn't we?" "Perhaps, but how long before you would tire of that strenuous program?" "Not until the house was paid for," declared Tom. "I'm putting in almost as much time now in a haphazard way because Fanny doesn't keep things up very well, and my day does not begin at the store until eight o'clock. Besides, most people in ordinary circumstances are com- pelled to make a few sacrifices to secure a home of their own." "Anything else?" slurred Kate. "Yes; then we'd need to budget our expenses," Tom continued, not noticing her irony. "Explain that budget business," said Kate. "We'd merely itemize our expenditures and divide our income to cover them con- sistently; then we would not allow our- selves to spend more than the budget called for in any one of the various items. For example, if we decided on sixty dollars a month for groceries we would plan in such

496 IMPROVEMENT ERA a manner that we would not be obliged to exceed that amount." "Oh, I see the whole thing," Kate spoke bitterly; "I would have no initiative. I would simply have to walk a chalk line - — get up at a certain time in the morning, do a certain job at a certain time, buy certain things; if I wished to take a friend to dinner I'd be forced to consult my en- tertainment item; I couldn't even drop into the picture show if my budget for- bade." "Exactly," agreed Tom; "but isn't the home worth it? And remember, it is the only way." "I couldn't walk into a store with any freedom or independence or self-respect. I wouldn't dare to buy a 'nick-nack' no matter how lovely it was." "You couldn't indulge your fancy for silver candle sticks and silk quilts," de- clared Tom. "That's enough; we won't buy any home. I won't live that way and never be able to say my soul is my own. I won't have my time and my habits and my tastes regulated and circumscribed. I won't crawl through life in an old rut of a routine. I'd go mad if I were forced to get up at a certain time every moriv ing, do a certain thing at a certain hour each day, buy certain things at a certain price day after day. I wouldn't be that way for worlds! I hate methodical peo- ple." Tom raised one eye significantly. "All right; it's up to you," he said. But sud- denly he became absorbed in speculation, and in this mood went absent-mindedly back to his work. Kate cried a little when she found he had left without kissing her good-bye; but she dried her eyes presently and read a book. She read until it was too late to order the groceries for the evening meal; because of this negligence Fanny was obliged to go into town and thus the din- ner was greatly delayed. However, as late meals were usual occurrences, Tom was not at all disturbed. In fact, as soon as he arrived home that evening it was evident that he was in high spirits. Song being his customary outlet, he treated the household to all his old favorites, including "My Kate, my Kate, my Bonny Kate." The subject of the morning was entirely forgotten. Indeed, the days came and went and to Kate's great relief Tom made no further mention of organization, cooperation or budget. The change which came over Tom was so gradual that Kate scracely noticed it for several weeks. He began by being late for meals, going late to work, and buying things that Kate cared nothing about. She was not particularly concerned; she trusted Tom, fully considering that whatever he did had been carefully calculated and would come out all right. One Saturday night there was nothing left for her when all the week's expenses were paid; Kate was puz- zled but she soon dismissed it as a trifling matter. The following Monday morning, Kate awoke at her usual time, about ten-thirty, and found Tom still sleeping. She hopped up in alarm and ran to her husband's bed. "Good gracious, Tom, you've over slept; it's ten-thirty. Aren't you well? What's the matter?" Yawning drowsily, the man finally crawled out. His wife repeated her ques- tions anxiously. "Oh, I'm as fit as a prize fighter," he declared; "but, say, I did have a dandy snooze." "Who opened your store?" Kate was concerned. "I suppose it's still closed," opined Tom; "Zeb may be there, but I have the key." "You've lost money this morning, haven't you?" "Sure thing; but it will be some recom- pense to eat breakfast with you." Tom was nonchalant. He seemed to enjoy the morning immensely. It was eleven-thirty o'clock before he left for his place of business. Then he strolled home to lunch in the middle of the afternoon. "I've decided not to go back again today, Zeb can look after things," he told Kate. "Let's ride over to Mountain Dale and have a trout dinner." "Our dinner for tonight is bought," Kate resisted.

TACTICS 497 "It'll keep." "No, but it won't." "Let it spoil then," Tom laughed gaily. "I want to get the good of my holiday: I haven't taken one for a long time." Tom and Kate went for the ride and stayed out until a late hour. The next morning Kate did not open her eyes until eleven o'clock. To her amazement her husband was still sleeping. When she aroused him he appeared regret- ful. "Seems like I can't wake at a decent hour any more," he said in a self-con- demnatory tone. "You're getting into the habit of over- sleeping," Kate began chidingly, then she recalled that she slept late all of the time; it gave her pause. "Looks like it," Tom admitted. "You'd better give the keys to Zeb, at least," Kate suggested. "I have; but, you know, the clever scamp made me increase his pay check." Tom chocked a little over that statement but it passed. "You'll be losing money, won't you?" "It looks that way," indifferently. "Well, good gracious — " angry and indignant Kate began to say a few things to stir Tom up, then she perceived all of a sudden that Tom was getting a little more like herself — she had always boasted that she was indifferent to such sordid things as work and money making. For the rest of the week Tom slept in the morning until Kate called him. Each night he was late for dinner. One eve- ning he brought home an odd-looking bundle. "What's that?" Kate questioned sus- piciously, holding back the glad cry with which she had started to greet him and the gratifying news she had to relate. "A fishing outfit. It cost forty dollars; but it's a dandy. Look here!" Tom's eyes sparkled as he exhibited the good points of his purchase. "Humph!" Kate was openly con- temptuous in tone and expression. The very idea! Tom must be crazy. How could she tell him her electrifying news with this damper on her spirits. She had been confident that Tom would be happy to hear that she had asked to join the town's most exclusive and worth-while woman's club. She had counted on Tom being delighted to learn that the club was giving a select dancing party in the near future. She had felt sure he would want her to have a lovely new frock for the occasion. She had also decided and meant to confide it to Tom, that adequately to entertain this ultra-fashionable group of women she must make a lot of changes in her living rooms before her turn to be hostess rolled around. At that moment it popped into her head that it would be grand to be installed in the lovely little Harvey place on Elm Street by that time. She was beginning to wonder with a peculiar sinking of the heart if she had not let an opportunity slip by her. But how could she mention these im- possible-of-fulfilment schemes with Tom launched on ihis new debauchery of time and money? Instead of adding pleasure and achievement, it was more likely that she would be taking in washings — she exaggerated bitterly to herself. What had come over Tom? Kate was so furious she dared not trust herself to speak again all evening. She was not addicted to quarrel- ing but held her tongue in check only by a Herculean effort. While her rage cooled, she went over things in her mind. Half the night she stared into the darkness lost in deep re- flections. She went over the facts of her life with Tom, one by one. Several times her cheeks burned with a sudden remem- brance. Gradually the situation clarified. She began to see and admire some qualities in Tom she had heretofore dismissed with indifference. She began to understand him a little better, to get his point of view. Suddenly she saw through his uncommon behavior for the past few weeks. The upshot of her travail was that when Monday morning rolled round again a shiny new alarm clock buzzingly an- nounced the day at exactly six o'clock. Tom did not stir until Kate touched him and spoke — she was fully dressed and ready for the business of the day.

498 IMPROVEMENT ERA "Don't you wish to get up and go to work?" she asked Tom. Tom looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Blast that old routine, Kate, I believe I'm tired of it. And I don't want you to despise me." Kate was not without a sense of humor, her face broke into her most engaging smile. "I get you, Steve," she chuckled, using Tom's pet slang phrase. "Wouldn't you like to get back into the old routine in order to own the little Harvey house on Elm Street?" she wheedled. "Couldn't get it alone." Tom's tone grumbled, but there was a bright light in his eyes. "I'll help," Kate whispered a trifle shyly; "I'll organize and cooperate, and budget to your heart's content — if the house is not already sold — " she shud- dered. Tom looked at her dubiously, but wistfully. "Oh, I understand you — " Kate laughed — "and I capitulate completely." The starshine was in her eyes as Tom drew her to him to seal the bargain with a kiss. "Oh, I'm happy," he murmured, thrilled and triumphant. "I'm going to hop to it now, believe me. We'll move into the Harvey place this very day," he jumped up with his old energy. "I wonder if it is already sold?" Kate held her breath in dismay at the thought. "Yes, it is," said Tom slyly; "but it is sold to Kate Dalby and I've made the first two payments." Kate marveled. It did not occur to her that Tom could have been merely pre- tending laxness in business, or that he could have borrowed from a friendly neighbor merchant his so-called purchases; but she suddenly saw one thing and gave a cry of delight. "Then, you believed in me all of the time!" she said, betray- ing her real concern. "I'll tell the world!" and Tom kissed her some more. Logan, Utah Spring Zephyrs Softly and tenderly zephyrs are sighing, Bearing sweet fragrance from spring's fresh, green earth; Birds, happy birds, on their light wings are flying, Singing their sweet songs of gladness and mirth. Grasses and flowers are cheerily smiling; Brooks, merry brooks, through the meadows e'er flow. Dancing and singing and joyfully gliding, Kissed by the sunbeams that sparkle and glow. Branches are swinging, gracefully swinging. Swayed by the breezes of fresh, balmy spring; Keeping true time to their sighing and singing, Bidding all creatures below join and sing. Bees, busy bees, are sweet honey preparing; Birds, joyous birds, are now building their nests; Oh, the sweet joy that we mortals are sharing, Thanks to kind heaven should fill all our breasts. Samuel B. Mitton