Green and Gold

Green and Gold MARCENE ANDERSON frowned as the hot grease from the frying meat splashed on her arms and hands. The kitchen was hot and sultry and through the open doors and windows more hot air came in. She sighed and pushed back the damp hair from her forehead. The blisters smarted and stung but there was no time to put anything on them. She put the meat on the platter, the potatoes into a bowl, filled a plate with hot, brown bis- cuits, and heaped a dish generously with baked macaroni and cheese. Food, nothing but food. Someone was always hungry and wanting something to eat. Still frowning she put the food on the table in the dining-room and stepping to the outside door, called: "Dinner's ready." 1 HE men had wash- ed and combed outside. As they came in she raised the blinds and straightened a snowy white cur- tain that drooped on one side. The others went to their places and sat down, but Keith, her husband, lingered an instant and smiled at her as his hand rested on her shoulder as he passed. Marcene looked up but gave no answering smile. She moved quickly to the table and helped in passing the food and refilling the dishes. "Good water, this is, Keith; never tasted better. It is as cool as any spring in the mountains," and Mr. Jensen drained his second glass. "Yes, we have a pretty good well. Sure helps out a lot on days like this. Handy, too, with the engine. We get water for the house and stock in no time. Pretty lucky to have it." "Luck, that's good. No luck to it, Keith, old man, I know; it's just hard work and plenty of it. Why you've just been here goin' on two year an' look what you've done. Built this house, the best around here; fenced the entire farm; improved the barns, and bought the roadster. Hard work's done it all and you're doin' fine. You'll soon be sittih' pretty now," and the older man helped himself to another biscuit. BLANCHE ROBBINS "Yes, we've done pretty well, all right, but it's a hard life, this farming is. Up early and work all day except for a little time in the winter and then it's cold and the snow gets pretty deep. We may move to the city as soon as the crops are up and the harvest over. M ARCENE, over by the window, looked up quickly and smiled, but the men at the table showed surprise and disap- pointment. They were neighbors; helped each other back and forth in the spring and at harvest time. They knew each other's problems and struggles. "You mean go to the city to live? Why, Keith, don't do that. We'd sure miss you, an' anyway, you're gettin' on top now. Look at your harvest this fall. Wheat is a good price and yours today is runnin' between forty-five and fifty bushels to the acre and every kernel hard as rock and yellow as gold. Man, that's just what it is — yellow gold." ed. They'll go home for supper. I'll try and come in early tonight and we'll go for a little ride," and he left the room. Marcene piled the dishes up and carried them into the kitchen. Me- chanically she straightened the dining-room chairs, brushed up the crumbs from the table and floor, folded the cloth, put a center- piece in its place and set a vase of flowers on it. She lowered the blinds and started toward the kit- chen. As she passed the door she paused, and pushing open the screen stepped out on the cool, shady porch. She looked out a- cross the field to where acres and acres of golden wheat swayed gen- tly back and forth in the breeze. On one side, and in beautiful con- trast to the fields of yellow gram she could see fields of green alfalfa. Af Ki .EITH didn't an- swer and the meal was finished in silence. The men returned to their work, and Marcene cleared a place at the table and began eat- ing. Keith looked up from the paper. "That was a good dinner, Mar- cene, and the men surely enjoyed it. They were starved." "I'm glad they liked it. Seems as if food is about the only thing they can appreciate; food and talk about farming and threshing. They aren't even human," and she looked around the table at the soiled and dirty places on the cloth. "They are good friends and neighbors, Marcene, and good men. Don't talk about them that way. I'm sorry everything is so hard and disagreeable for you. I know you don't like the farm and all its work, especially cooking for these men, but it couldn't be help- lS Marcene looked at the patches of green and gold, a memory, half recalled and half forgotten, came to her. She stood there, trying to think what trou- bled her. There was something she should remember, but just then Keith came around the corner his arms filled with quilts and pillows. Marcene stared at him with sur- prise. "Why what on earth are you doing, Keith, and I had the bed all made up fresh," and the cus- tomary whine came into her voice as she spoke. Keith walked on and threw the bedding on the grass under a shady tree. He arranged the quilts and then put the pillows down; one on top of the other. They did look soft and inviting. "Nothing much, Marcene; just a little surprise, I guess you'd say, and a very little one at that. You looked so tired I thought maybe you would like to lie here and rest this afternoon." llE smiled up at her, tenderly and happily, and waited eagerly as a boy for one word of thanks or praise, but he waited in vain. "How can I sleep the afternoon away? As usual there are dishes to do, the front rooms need clean- ing, and some of my beans are spoiling," and she turned and

632 The Improvement Era for July, 1930 went into the house. Her words jarred on Keith's sensitive cars. He took a step as if to follow her, changed his mind and walk- ed quickly toward the field. "Sleep indeed! A lot a man knows about housework. Always the same thing from morning till night. Cook, sweep, dust, mop, make beds, wash dishes, and then begin all over again. Not so hard, perhaps, but the same thing over and over again. I'm tired of it all. Why did I ever live on a farm anyway? There's never any time to read or practice or sew." As she said the last words aloud she hesitated and put the dishpan into the cabinet a little more gen- tly than she might otherwise have done. HEARING a whir- ring sound overhead she stepped outside and watched an airplane as it winged its way far above the tree tops and out of sight. As she turned she saw the quilts Keith had spread on the grass for her. The white pillows looked cool. "I'll sleep just fifteen minutes and perhaps my head will feel better, and anyway, the work will wait for me." She lay down and looked up at the clear, blue sky. She could hear the drowsy hum of the bees as they flitted from flower to flow- er. The cool breeze fanned her hot face. , The murmur of the bees became fainter and fainter, and her tired eyelids drooped. Tr HE gymnasium was beautiful in trellis work and spring blossoms. Shaded lights cast soft, colorful shadows here and there, and these were reflected again on the polished floor. On either side were large, full-length mirrors, and as the dancers glided by, many a fair coed looked shyly over her partner's shoulder and smiled at the reflection she saw. Curled hair, cheeks aglow, spark- ling eyes and lips laughing, a filmy dress, and the picture was complete. As one girl turned a- way her partner smiled at her. "Miss Vanity Fair, but I don't blame you. If I looked half as adorable I'd spend the entire even- ing in front of a mirror. You are always pretty to me but to- night you are beautiful. I like your hair combed that way, and your eyes are like starshine, and — "Oh, Keith, not here. We are in a dance and you promised not to talk that way again, and 1 'Yes, I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it — yes, I did mean it, but I shouldn't have told you here. Anyway, Marcene, it's part- ly your fault, for you made me promise to wait until tonight. Well, this is tonight, and I have something to say to you," and as the dance ended he guided her, not back to the group of friends they were with, but past them and to- ward a secluded corner he knew. As they passed, the others laughed, and one of the boys call- ed out, "No fair, Keith, she's mine for the next one," and a pretty girl by him added, "Marcene and Keith, bow lovable they both are! They were made for each other." O JUTSIDE, the spring night was balmy and warm. The air was laden with the perfume of wet ground and growing things. A round, full moon hung low. and shimmered through the branches of the tree above them. "I love you, Marcene, and you promised to tell me tonight. I've been waiting a long time — four years, but they have been happy years here at the old school and with you. Dick cares for you, too, but he just couldn't love you as I do. He'll be a lawyer; that's fine, and someday, maybe, he'll be a wealthy man and have gold and all that it can buy to offer you. I have the farm father left me, and, Marcene, next harvest time there will be gold there, too, patches of gold, and close by the gold, patches of green. Green and gold — it is beautiful. Many a time I have stood on the little hill back of the house and prayed that sometime you would be there with me. What is your answer, Mar- cene? Do you care enough to come with me?" As lS she did not answer he looked deep into her eyes. "Marcene, is it Dick?" She smiled and took his hand. "Didn't you miss Dick tonight? I told him a week ago and he has gone east. I thought you knew." "What do you mean?" "I mean I love you, Keith. You are the one I have always cared for. I want to see the patches of green and gold," and she laughed hap- pily- "Laughing in your sleep, Mar- cene, means happy dreams, and you talked, too. You said, 'Keith, I love you,' " and Keith laughed, too, as Marcene opened her blue eyes and smiled at him. Keith was sitting on the quilts by her. Then she remembered. Fifteen minutes, indeed! She had dream- ed the afternoon away, and it was early evening. "You are right, Keith. I do love you better than anything in all the world. Can you ever for- give me for being so cross and mean? It was wicked of me, and I'm sorry," and tears came into her eyes. 'There's nothing to forgive, Marcene, and I'm glad you are feeling better. I've eaten a bite; let's go for a ride." "No, Keith, let's go for a walk out on the little hill. I want to see the patches of green and gold." Hi her, LE followed hardly understanding. "Sit here by me, Keith. Don't you remember the night of our Senior Ball how happy we were about everything? You told me of the patches of green and gold. Look down into the field. That's what I mean — the fields of yellow grain and green alfalfa. They are beautiful to me and I'm glad I chose them. You've done every- thing for me — even built the dream house you promised, and made me a flower garden. I love our little home and doing things for you. The work hasn't been hard at all. It was just my — I have been looking at things the wrong way. College days were happy days, but these two years with you are the happiest I've ever known. I don't know why I've been so cross with you these last few weeks." "You don't? I do, Marcene." She looked away across the fields of green and gold, to the setting sun. Together they watch- ed the last rays fade sleepily away behind a bank of golden clouds, then she looked up at him and smiled. "Oh, and Keith, let's al- ways and' always be here where we can see the patches of green and gold."