Morning Glory

His smile spread slowly, formed only halfway before he touched his hat brim and slipped the books to his hip. 'Much obliged anyway. See you next week.'

Next week, she thought, and her heart raced. Fussily she tamped the tops of the recessed cards to cover her uncharacteristic flutteriness.

She had chosen for him The Plumber’s Handbook, The ABC’s of Electricity, Edison’s Invention, Animal Husbandry for the Common Farmer, and another entitled New Era Domestic Science.

That night after supper while Eleanor shelled pecans at the kitchen table, Will sat at a right angle to her, turning pages. He spent an informative half hour spot-reading in three of the books, then picked up the fourth-New Era Domestic Science. It covered a range of subjects, some vital, others-to Will-silly. He smiled in amusement at such subjects as 'How to Choose a House Boy,' 'How to Clean a Flatiron by Rubbing on Salt.' There was a recipe for 'Meat Jelly,' another for fried tomatoes, then dozens of others; a discourse on insomnia, entitled, 'The Science of Sleep'; a tip about cleansing the interior of your teakettle by boiling an oyster shell in it. His finger stopped shuffling when he arrived at 'A Chapter for Young Women.' His eyes scanned ahead, then retreated to an essay on 'Choosing a Husband.' As he began reading, he slumped lower and lower in his chair until his spine was bowed, the book rested against the edge of the table and an index finger covered his grin.

You now need the advice of your parents more than ever before, the essay advised, for the young man will be attracted by you and you will be attracted by him. This is natural. If you make a mistake it may wreck your whole life. Take your mother into your confidence. There are some rules that are safe to follow in this matter. Never have anything to do with a young man who is 'sowing his wild oats,' or who has sown them.

Will absently rubbed his lip and peeked at Eleanor, but she was busy with the nutcracker.

Never marry a man to reform him. Leave those who need reforming severely alone. There are men who do not drink and yet who are more dangerous to you than drunkards. A man who sows his wild oats or is morally lax may be afflicted with diseases that can be given to an innocent and pure wife and thus entail upon her life-long suffering. Marriage is a lottery. You may draw a prize, or your life may be made miserable. Tell your parents if you are attracted toward a young man so that they may find out if he is a man of good character and pure in heart and life. It is so much better to remain single than to make an unfortunate marriage.

He wondered how many ignorant virgins had read this stuff and ended up more confused than ever about the facts of life.

His speculative gaze wandered to Elly. She dropped a pecan into the bowl and his eyes followed. Her stomach had grown so full it barely left room for the bowl on her knees. Her breasts seemed to have doubled in size in the last three months. Had she been a virgin when she married Glendon Dinsmore? Had Glendon 'sowed wild oats' like Will Parker had? Had Elly consulted her parents and had they checked out Dinsmore’s character and found him pure in heart and life-unlike her second husband?

She picked another pecan clean and raised the last morsel to her mouth. Will’s eyes again followed and he absently stroked his lips. One thing about Elly-she sure hadn’t married to reform him. If he had reformed it was because of her acceptance, rather than the lack of it.

He turned a page to a section in which Miss Beasley had left a marker. 'How to Conceive and Bear Healthy Children.' All right, he thought, secretly amused, tell me how.

The one main reason for the establishment of marriage was for the bearing and rearing of children. Nature has provided for man and woman the organs for this purpose and they are wonderfully constructed.

End of enlightenment. Will swallowed another chortle and his finger continued hiding the grin. He couldn’t help picturing Miss Beasley reading this, wondering what her reaction had been.

From his delight over the construction of human organs the author had skipped directly to a passel of ludicrous advice on conception: If the parents are drunk at the time the child is conceived they cannot expect healthy offspring, either physically or mentally. If the parents dislike each other they will transmit something of that disposition to their offspring. If either one or both of the parents are much worried at the time of conception the child will be the sufferer.

Without warning Will burst out laughing.

Eleanor looked up. 'What’s so funny?'

'Listen to this…' He straightened in his chair, laid the book flat on the table and read the last passage aloud.

Eleanor gazed at him unblinkingly, her hands poised around a pecan in the jaws of the nutcracker. 'I thought you were reading about electricity.'

He sobered instantly. 'Oh, I am. I mean, I… I was.'

She reached across the table and, with the nose of the nutcracker, tipped the book up.

'New Era Domestic Science?'

'Well, I… it…' He felt his cheeks warming and randomly flipped the pages. They fell open to a diagram of a homemade telephone. 'I was thinking about making one of these.' He turned the book and showed her.

She glanced at the diagram, then skeptically at him before the pecan shell cracked and fell into her palm. 'And just who did you think we’d call on it?'

'Oh, I don’t know. You never can tell.'

He hid his discomposure by delving into the book again.

After you become pregnant you owe it to yourself, your husband and especially your unborn young one to see that it comes into the world endowed with everything that a true, good, and devoted mother can possibly give it, both physically and mentally. To this end, keep yourself well and happy. Eat only such foods as are easily digested and that will keep your bowels regular. Read only such books as will tend to make you happier and better. Choose the company of those whom you feel will lift you up. Gossips will not do this so do not listen to croakers who are so ready to converse with you at this time.

Such capricious advice went on and on, but Will’s amusement died when he found what he’d been looking for: 'Preparations for Labor.' It began with a list of recommended articles to have on hand:

5 basins 1 two-quart fountain syringe 15 yards unsterilized gauze 6 sanitary bed pads; or, 2 pounds cotton batting for making same

1 piece rubber sheeting, size 1 by 2 yards 4 ounces permanganate of potash 8 ounces oxalic acid 4 ounces boric acid 1 tube green soap 1 tube Vaseline 100 Bernay’s bichloride tablets 8 ounces alcohol 2 drams ergotol 1 nail brush 2 pounds absorbent cotton

My God, they’d need all that? Will began to panic.

The opening instructions read, The nurse should prepare enough bed and perineal pads, sterilizing them a week before, along with towels, diapers, 1/2 pound absorbent cotton and some cotton pledgets.

Nurse? Who had a nurse? And enough? What was enough? And what did perineal mean? And what were pledgets? He couldn’t even understand this, much less afford it! Pale now, he turned the page only to have his disillusionment doubled. Phrases jumped out and grabbed him by the nerve-endings.

Cramp-like pains in the lower abdomen… rupturing membranes… watery discharge… a marked desire to go to stool… bulging of the pelvic floor… tearing of the perineal flesh… temple bones engaged in the vulva… proper manipulation to expel the afterbirth… stout clean thread… sever immediately… exception being when child is nearly dead or does not breathe properly…

He slammed the book shut and leaped to his feet, pale as seafoam.

'Will?'

He stared out a window, knees locked, cracking his knuckles, feeling his pulse thud hard in his gut.

'I can’t do it.'

'Do what?'

Fear lodged in his throat like a hunk of dry bread. He gulped, but it stayed. 'I wasn’t reading about electricity. I was reading about delivering babies.'

'Oh… that.'