"Look here, Mr. Parnassus," I said, "I guess I'm a fat old
fool but I just believe I'll do that. You hitch up your horse
and van and I'll go pack some clothes and write you a check.
It'll do Andrew all the good in the world to have me skip.
I'll get a chance to read a few books, too. It'll be as good
as going to college!" And I untied my apron and ran for the
house. The little man stood leaning against a corner of the
van as if he were stupefied. I dare say he was.
I ran into the house through the front door, and it struck me
as comical to see a copy of one of Andrew's magazines lying on
the living-room table with "The Revolt of Womanhood" printed
across it in red letters. "Here goes for the revolt of Helen
McGill," I thought. I sat down at Andrew's desk, pushed aside
a pad of notes he had been jotting down about "the magic of
autumn," and scrawled a few lines:
DEAR ANDREW,
Don't be thinking I'm crazy. I've gone off for an adventure.
It just came over me that you've had all the adventures while
I've been at home baking bread. Mrs. McNally will look after
your meals and one of her girls can come over to do the
housework. So don't worry. I'm going off for a little
while--a month, maybe--to see some of this happiness and
hayseed of yours.
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