"The poor thing's had reason enough to say it, the Lord knows," said
the man. "An'," he continued, after a moment, "I guess I've learned to
take whatever I'm deservin' of."

As Sam entered his house, a shabbily dressed, unkempt, forlorn looking
woman sat at a bare pine table, handling some dirty cards. When she
looked up, startled by the heavy tread upon the floor, she exclaimed,--

"I declare! I didn't expect you till--"

"Wife!" shouted Sam, snatching the woman into his arms and covering her
face with kisses. "Wife," he murmured, bursting into tears and pressing
the unsightly head to his breast,--"wife, wife, wife, I'm goin' to make
you proud of bein' my wife, now that I'm a man once more."

The woman did not return any of the caresses that had been showered
upon her; neither did she repel them. Finally she said,--

"You _do_ appear to think somethin' of me, Sam."

"Think somethin' of you? I always did, Nan, though I didn't show it
like I ought. I've had lots of time to think since then, though, an'
I've had somethin' else, too, that I want to tell you about. Things is
goin' to be different, the Lord willin', Nan, dear--wife."

Mrs. Kimper was human; she was a woman, and she finally rose to the
occasion to the extent of kissing her husband, though immediately
afterward she said, apparently by way of apology,--