successful wives?

And as, her nausea passing, Rose began to feel a glorious sensation
of vigor, she decided that perhaps, after all, Martin had been right.
Child-bearing was a natural function. People probably made far too much
fuss about it. Nellie came to help her cook for the threshers and, for
the rest, she managed very well, even milking her usual eight cows and
carrying her share of the foaming buckets.

All might have gone smoothly if only she had not overslept one morning
in late September. When she reached the barn, Martin was irritable. She
did not answer him but sat down quietly by her first cow, a fine-blooded
animal which soon showed signs of restlessness under her tense hands.

"There! There! So Bossy," soothed Rose gently.

"You never will learn how to manage good stock," Martin criticized
bitingly.

"Nor you how to treat a wife."

"Oh, shut up."

"Don't talk to me that way."

As she started to rise, a kick from the cow caught her square on the
stomach with such force that it sent her staggering backward, still
clutching the handle of the pail from which a snowy stream cascaded.

"Now what have you done?" demanded Martin sternly. "Haven't I warned
you time and again that milk cows are sensitive, nervous? Fidgety people
drive them crazy. Why can't you behave simply and directly with them!
Why is it I always get more milk from mine! It's your own fault this
happened--fussing around, taking out your ill temper at me on her.
Shouting at me. What could you expect?"

For the first time in their life together, Rose was frankly unnerved. It
seemed to her that she would go mad. "You devil!" she burst out, wildly.
"That's what you are, Martin Wade! You're not human. Your child may be
lost and you talk about cows letting down more milk. Oh God! I didn't
know there was any one living who could be so cruel, so cold, so
diabolical. You'll be punished for this some day--you will--you will.
You don't love me--never did, oh, don't I know it. But some time you
will love some one. Then you'll understand what it is to be treated
like this when your whole soul is in need of tenderness. You'll see then
what--"

"Oh, shut up," growled Martin, somewhat abashed by the violence of her
broken words and gasping sobs. "You're hysterical. You're doing yourself
as much harm right now as that kick did you."

"Oh, Martin, please be kind," pleaded Rose more quietly. "Please! It's
your baby as much as mine. Be just half as