The Banner Hand

"Look in the mirror," she said. "See what a handsome lady you
are."

"I ain't seen in a looking-glass since I don't know when," said
Mrs. Bates. "Why should I begin now? Chances are 'at you have
rigged me up until I'll set the neighbours laughing, or else to
saying that I didn't wait until the breath was out of Pa's body to
begin primping."

"Nonsense, Mother," said Kate. "Nobody will say or think
anything. Everyone will recognize Nancy Ellen's fine Spencerian
hand in that bonnet and ruching. Now for your veil!"

Mrs. Bates arose from her chair, and stepped back.

"There, there, Katie!" she said. "You've gone far enough. I'll
be sweat to a lather in this dress; I'll wear the head-riggin',
because I've go to, or set the neighbours talkin' how mean Pa was
not to let me have a bonnet; and between the two I'd rather they'd
take it out on me than on him." She steadied herself by the chair
back and looked Kate in the eyes. "Pa was always the banner hand
to boss everything," she said. "He was so big and strong, and so
all-fired sure he was right, I never contraried him in the start,
so before I knowed it, I was waiting for him to say what to do,
and then agreeing with him, even when I knowed he was WRONG. So
goin' we got along FINE, but it give me an awful smothered feeling
at times."

Kate stood looking at her mother intently, her brain racing, for
she was thinking to herself: "Good Lord! She means that to
preserve the appearance of self-respect she systematically agreed
with him, whether she thought he was right or wrong; because she
was not able to hold her own against him. Nearly fifty years of
life like that!"