Forgive me,if I speak plainly.I admire some things about you so much,I am venturing positive unkindness to try to make you see that in shutting out your neighbours you will surely make them think more,and worse things,than are true.I haven't a doubt in my mind but that your trouble is not one half so dreadful as you imagine while brooding over it.We will pass that.Let me tell you how we feel about this road matter.You see we did our courting in Pennsylvania,married and tried Ohio,and then came on here.We took this land when it was mostly woods.I could point you to the exact spot where we stopped;we visited it yesterday,looked down the hill and selected the place where we would set this house,when we could afford to build it.
We moved into the cabin that was on the land first,later built a larger one,and finally this home as we had planned it.Every fruit tree,bush,vine,and flower we planted.Here our children have been born,lived,loved,and left us;some for the graveyard down yonder,some for homes of their own.Always we have planned and striven to transform this into the dearest,the most beautiful spot on earth.In ****** our home the best we can,in improving our township,county,and state,we are doing our share toward upbuilding this nation."She began at the a b c's,and gave it to him straight:the whole thing,just as we saw it;and he listened,as if he were a prisoner,and she a judge telling him what he must do to gain his *******.She put in the birds to keep away the worms,the trees to break the wind,the creeks to save the moisture.She whanged him,and she banged him,up one side,and down the other.She didn't stop to be mincy.She shot things at him like a man talking to another man who had plenty of sense but not a particle of reason.She gave him the reason.She told him exactly why,and how,and where,and also just WHAT he must do to feel RIGHTtoward his neighbours,his family,and his God.No preacher ever talked half so well.Yea verily,she was as interesting as the Bishop himself,and far pleasanter to look at.When she ran short of breath,and out of words,she reached both hands toward him again.
"OH DO PLEASE THINK OF THESE THINGS!"she begged."Do try to believe that I am a sensible person,and know what I am talking about.""Madame,"said Mr.Pryor,"there's no doubt in my mind but you are the most wonderful woman I ever have met.Surely I believe you!Surely I know your plan of life is the true,the only right way.It is one degree added to my humiliation that the ban I am under keeps me from friendly intercourse with so great a lady.""`Lady'?"said my mother,her eyes widening."`Lady'?Now it is you who are amused.""I don't understand!"he said."Certainly you are a lady,a very great lady.""Goodness,gracious me!"cried my mother,laughing until her dimples would have held water."That's the first time in all my life I was ever accused of such a thing.""Again,I do not comprehend,"said Mr.Pryor,as if vexed about all he would endure.
Mother laughed on,and as she did so she drew back her hands and studied them.Then she looked at him again,one pink dimple flashing here and there,all over her face.
"Well,to begin at the root of the matter,"she said,"that is an enormous big word that you are using lightly.Any one in petticoats is not a lady--by no means!A lady must be born of unsullied blood for at least three generations,on each side of her house.Think for a minute about where you are going to fulfil that condition.Then she must be gentle by nature,and rearing.She must know all there is to learn from books,have wide experience to cover all emergencies,she must be steeped in social graces,and diplomatic by nature.She must rise unruffled to any emergency,never wound,never offend,always help and heal,she must be perfect in deportment,virtue,wifehood and motherhood.She must be graceful,pleasing and beautiful.She must have much leisure to perfect herself in learning,graces and arts----""Madame,you draw an impossible picture!"cried Mr.Pryor.
"I draw the picture of the only woman on earth truly entitled to be called a lady.You use a good word lightly.I have told you what it takes to make a lady--now look at me!"How she laughed!Mr.Pryor looked,but he didn't laugh.
"More than ever you convince me that you are a lady,indeed,"he said.
Mother wiped her eyes.
"My dear man!"she cried,"I'm the daughter of a Dutch miller,who lived on a Pennsylvania mountain stream.There never was a school anywhere near us,and father and mother only taught us to work.Paul Stanton took a grist there,and saw me.He married me,and brought me here.He taught me to read and write.I learned my lessons with my elder children.He has always kept school in our house,every night of his life.Our children supposed it was for them;I knew it was quite as much for me.
While I sat at knitting or sewing,I spelled over the words he gave out.I know nothing of my ancestors,save that they came from the lowlands of Holland,down where there were cities,schools,and business.They were well educated,but they would not take the trouble to teach their children.As I have spoken to you,my husband taught me.All I know I learn from him,from what he reads aloud,and places he takes me.I exist in a twenty-mile radius,but through him,I know all lands,principalities and kingdoms,peoples and customs.I need never be ashamed to go,or afraid to speak,anywhere.""Indeed not!"cried Mr.Pryor.
