They go. You are glad of it. You return the visit, because it's the only way to have back at them; but why pamper them unnecessarily? Now a good housekeeper, that means more than words can express. Comfort, kindness, sanitary living, care in illness! Here's to the prospective housekeeper of Medicine Woods! Rogers, hang those ruffled embroidered curtains. Observe that whereas mere guest beds are plain white, this has a touch of brass. Where guest rugs are floor coverings, this is a work of art. Where guest brushes are celluloid, these are enamelled, and the dresser cover is hand embroidered. Let me also call your attention to the chairs touched with gold, cushioned for ease, and a decorated pitcher and bowl. Watch the bounce of these springs and the thickness of this mattress and pad, and notice that where guests, however welcome, get a down cover of sateen, the lady of the house has silkaline.
Won't she prepare us a breakfast after a night in this room?"
"David, are you in earnest?" gasped the Girl.
"Don't these things prove it?" asked the Harvester.
"No woman can enter my home, when my necessities are so great I have to hire her to come, and take the WORST in the house. After my wife, she gets the best, every time. Whenever I need help, the woman who will come and serve me is what I'd call the real guest of the house. Friend? Where are your friends when trouble comes? It always brings a crowd on account of the excitement, and there is noise and racing; but if your soul is saved alive, it is by a steady, trained hand you pay to help you. Friends come and go, but a good housekeeper remains and is a business proposition--one that if conducted rightly for both parties and on a strictly common-sense basis, gives you living comfort. Now that we have disposed of the guests that go and the one that remains, we will proceed downward and arrange for ourselves."
"David, did you ever know any one who treated a housekeeper as you say you would?"
"No. And I never knew any one who raised medicinal stuff for a living, but I'm making a gilt-edged success of it, and I would of a housekeeper, too."
"It doesn't seem----"
"That's the bedrock of all the trouble on the earth," interrupted the Harvester. "We are a nation and a part of a world that spends our time on `seeming.' Our whole outer crust is `seeming.' When we get beneath the surface and strike the BEING, then we live as we are privileged by the Almighty. I don't think I give a tinker how anything SEEMS. What concerns me is how it IS. It doesn't `seem' possible to you to hire a woman to come into your home and take charge of its cleanliness and the food you eat--the very foundation of life--and treat her as an honoured guest, and give her the best comfort you have to offer. The cold room, the old covers, the bare floor, and the cast off furniture are for her. No wonder, as a rule, she gives what she gets. She dignifies her labour in the same ratio that you do. Wait until we need a housekeeper, and then gaze with awe on the one I will raise to your hand."
"I wonder----"
"Don't! It's wearing! Come tell me how to make our living-room less bare than it appears at present."
They went downstairs together, followed by the decorator, and began work on the room. The Girl was placed on a couch and made comfortable and then the Harvester looked around.
"That bundle there, Rogers, is the curtains we bought for this room. If you and my wife think they are not right, we will not hang them."
The decorator opened the package and took out curtains of tan-coloured goods with a border of blue and brown.
"Those are not expensive," said the Harvester, "but to me a window appears bare with only a shade, so Ithought we'd try these, and when they become soiled we'll burn them and buy some fresh ones."
"Good idea!" laughed the Girl. "As a house decorator you surpass yourself as a Medicine Man."
"Fix these as you did those upstairs," ordered the Harvester. "We don't want any fol-de-rols. Put the bottom even with the sill and shear them off at the top."
"No, I am going to arrange these," said the decorator, "you go on with your part."
"All right!" agreed the Harvester. "First, I'll lay the big rug."
He cleared the floor, spread a large rug with a rich brown centre and a wide blue border. Smaller ones of similar design and colour were placed before each of the doors leading from the room.
"Now for the hearth," said the Harvester, "I got this tan goat skin. Doesn't that look fairly well?"
It certainly did; and the Girl and the decorator hastened to say so. The Harvester replaced the table and chairs, and then sat on the couch at the Girl's feet.
"I call this almost finished," he remarked. "All we need now is a bouquet and something on the walls, and that is serious business. What goes on them usually remains for a long time, and so it should be selected with care. Ruth, have you a picture of your mother?"
"None since she was my mother. I have some lovely girl photographs."
"Good!" cried the Harvester. "Exactly the thing!
I have a picture of my mother when she was a pretty girl. We will select the best of yours and have them enlarged in those beautiful brown prints they make in these days, and we'll frame one for each side of the mantel. After that you can decorate the other walls as you see things you want. Fifteen minutes gone; we are ready to take up the line of march to the dining-room.
Oh I forgot my pillows! Here are a half dozen tan, brown, and blue for this room. Ruth, you arrange them."
The Girl heaped four on the couch, stood one beside the hearth, and laid another in a big chair.
