Lincoln High School - Lincolnian Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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The Wooing of a Widow ARGRETTA DUNLAP, 'l9. OU knew when you met her that the Widow Mallory was Irish. It might have been her dusky crowning glory, it might have been her merry grey eyes or her pretty pink cheeks, or her tilted nose, or her dimples: but whatever it was, it was not any accent in her speech, for she spoke American Eng- lish, sometimes with wilful disregard of grammar. She was fond of the expression, Ain't us, kids? when talking to her three children. john, the oldest, was dark and sullen in ap- pearance, but had a disposition which was the widow's joy and despair. Unexpectedness was the keynote of his character, and though she was always expecting the unexpected it never failed to surprise her. Rosie, five, chubby and slow, serene, even- tempered, was the real baby of the family and sweetly accepted all the coddling and spoiling she received. But Edward! Ed, the violent, the rude, Ed the gentle deceiver, was the cause of loss of sleep, of worry, of secret spasms of laughter on his mother's part. His supreme ego had carried him successfully through near- ly four years of life. He got every- thing he wanted from a deferred bedtime hour to weird articles of clothing. He had only to fix on Rosie a commanding stare and she handed him the cocky or the ba- nana or whatever it was she had that he wanted, and got it back af- ter he had taken a bite. But he was not as bad as that sounds, for he was usually quite well-mannered. The widow and her children all lived together in a little brown house. There was a hedge around the little brown house, and in this hedge you might find anything from Rosie's dolls' clothes to the long, lank cat flong and lank from the loving of john and Rosie and Edl that be- longed to one of the irate neighbors. The hedge kept in the loud disputes of john and Ed, and the sight of the widow shamelessly playing teaparty with Rosie, and it kept out the little ruffian sons of the aforementioned irate neighbors. But these are not all the charac- ters in this story. There were three others: Mr. Bell, Mr. Kenney and Mr. Benson, bachelors three, enamor- ed of the Widow Mallory, and fre- quent visitors, each alone and some- times all in a body, to the little brown house. Mr. Bell was round and merry, and brought candy and big, fat oranges: Mr. Kenney was round and serious and brought books: Mr. Benson was nervous and hasty and brought only himself. Mr. Bell the children en- dured, Mr. Kenney they disliked, and Mr. Benson they ardently despised. lnteresting as this arrangement was, of visitors often and many gifts for the widow fstill more for the chil- drenl, it could not last indefinitely. Things began to be serious: the bach- elors three came more often separ- ately and more often left in a body, the candy came oftener, the books became more serious, and Mr. Ben- son more nervous. So Mrs. Mallory ran away. That is, she put on the children's hats, hastily packed a suit- case and took the train for her sis- ter's home across the state. When she sedately led the children up her sister's walk, no questions were asked: only, after the way of sisters, the reason for the sudden visit came out in the long talk over the late supper table. Together they laughed until Myra's husband came in from his garden to see what was