The Indiscreet Letter | Page 5

quite frankly. "No! We
didn't find out how to be happy at all until the last three years!"
Again his laughter rang out through the car.
"Heavens! Look at me!" he said at last. "And then think of her!--Little,
young, a school-teacher, too, and taking poetry to read on the train
same as you or I would take a newspaper! Gee! What would you
expect?" Again his mouth began to twitch a little. "And I thought it was
her fault--'most all of the first year," he confessed delightedly. "And
then, all of a sudden," he continued eagerly, "all of a sudden, one day,
more mischievous-spiteful than anything else, I says to her, 'We don't
seem to be getting on so very well, do we?' And she shakes her head
kind of slow. 'No, we don't!' she says.--'Maybe you think I don't treat
you quite right?' I quizzed, just a bit mad.--'No, you don't! That is,
not--exactly right,' she says, and came burrowing her head in my
shoulder as cozy as could be.--'Maybe you could show me how to treat
you--righter,' I says, a little bit pleasanter.--'I'm perfectly sure I could!'
she says, half laughing and half crying. 'All you'll have to do,' she says,
'is just to watch me!'--'Just watch what you do?' I said, bristling just a
bit again.--'No,' she says, all pretty and soft-like; 'all I want you to do is
to watch what I don't do!'"
With slightly nervous fingers the Traveling Salesman reached up and
tugged at his necktie as though his collar were choking him suddenly.
"So that's how I learned my table manners," he grinned, "and that's how
I learned to quit cussing when I was mad round the house, and that's
how I learned--oh, a great many things--and that's how I learned--"

grinning broader and broader--"that's how I learned not to come home
and talk all the time about the 'peach' whom I saw on the train or the
street. My wife, you see, she's got a little scar on her face--it don't show
any, but she's awful sensitive about it, and 'Johnny,' she says, 'don't you
never notice that I don't ever rush home and tell you about the
wonderful slim fellow who sat next to me at the theater, or the simply
elegant grammar that I heard at the lecture? I can recognize a slim
fellow when I see him, Johnny,' she says, 'and I like nice grammar as
well as the next one, but praising 'em to you, dear, don't seem to me so
awfully polite. Bragging about handsome women to a plain wife,
Johnny,' she says, 'is just about as raw as bragging about rich men to a
husband who's broke.'
"Oh, I tell you a fellow's a fool," mused the Traveling Salesman
judicially, "a fellow's a fool when he marries who don't go to work
deliberately to study and understand his wife. Women are awfully
understandable if you only go at it right. Why, the only thing that riles
them in the whole wide world is the fear that the man they've married
ain't quite bright. Why, when I was first married I used to think that my
wife was awful snippety about other women. But, Lord! when you
point a girl out in the car and say, 'Well, ain't that girl got the most
gorgeous head of hair you ever saw in your life?' and your wife says:
'Yes--Jordan is selling them puffs six for a dollar seventy-five this
winter,' she ain't intending to be snippety at all. No!--It's only, I tell you,
that it makes a woman feel just plain silly to think that her husband
don't even know as much as she does. Why, Lord! she don't care how
much you praise the grocer's daughter's style, or your stenographer's
spelling, as long as you'll only show that you're equally wise to the fact
that the grocer's daughter sure has a nasty temper, and that the
stenographer's spelling is mighty near the best thing about her.
"Why, a man will go out and pay every cent he's got for a good hunting
dog--and then snub his wife for being the finest untrained retriever in
the world. Yes, sir, that's what she is--a retriever; faithful, clever,
absolutely unscarable, with no other object in life except to track down
and fetch to her husband every possible interesting fact in the world
that he don't already know. And then she's so excited and pleased with

what she's got in her mouth that it 'most breaks her heart if her man
don't seem to care about it. Now, the secret of training her lies in the
fact that she won't never trouble to hunt out and fetch you any news
that she sees you already know. And just as soon as a