Homer gets vivacious and smirks something horrible, and says, well, he don't see why people make a secret of such things; and the fact is that that lady and him have about decided that Fate has flung 'em together for a lofty purpose. Of course nothing was settled definite yet--no dates nor anything; but probably before long there'd be a nice little home adorning a certain place he'd kept his eye on, and someone there keeping a light in the window for him--and so on. It sounded almost too good to be true that this old shellback had been harpooned at last.
Then Minna spoke up, when Homer had babbled to a finish, and smirked and looked highly offensive. She says brightly:
"Oh, yes; Mrs. Judson Tolliver. I know her well; and I'm sure, Mr. Gale, I wish you all the happiness in the world with the woman of your choice. She's a very sterling character indeed--and such a good mother!"
"How's that?" says Homer. "I didn't hear you just right. Such a good what?"
"I said she's such a good mother," Minna answers him.
"Mother to what?" he says in a low, passionate tone, like an actor.
"Mother to her three little ones," says Minna. Then she says again quick: "Why, what's the matter, Mr. Gale?" For Homer seemed to have been took bad.
"Great Godfrey!" he says, hardly able to get his voice.
"And, of course, you won't mind my saying it," Minna goes on, "because you seem so broad-minded about children, but when I taught primary in Red Gap last year those three little boys of hers gave me more trouble than any other two dozen of the pests in the whole room."
Homer couldn't say anything this time. He looked like a doctor was knifing him without anesthetics.
"And to make it worse," says Minna, "the mother is so crazy about them, and so sensitive about any little thing done to them in the way of discipline--really, she has very little control of her language where those children are concerned. Still, of course, that's how any good mother will act, to be sure; and especially when they have no father.
"I'm glad indeed the poor woman is to have someone like you that will take the responsibility off her shoulders, because those boys are now at an age where discipline counts. Of course she'll expect you to be gentle with them, even though firm. Oswald--he's eleven now, I believe--will soon be old enough to send to reform school; but the younger ones, seven and nine--My! such spirits as they have! They'll really need someone with strength."