1890
Audview, Texas

Miss Teala leaned closer to Miss Matilda and murmured, "Is that an example of what you were saying, dear? I know you're a little older than I am, but goodness, we're not quite in our dotage yet." Her white hair was curled becomingly in a neat bun and her intelligent eyes sparkled as she glanced at the door.

"Exactly what I was saying, Teala," her older friend replied. "She won't give me a moment's peace. I ask her to polish the silver but instead she mends the drapes. I ask for another cup of tea and she brings chamomile instead of oolong, saying it's healthier for me. Always trying to get me to try those patent medicines that smarmy friend of hers brings around. And this shawl!"

"It must be eighty degrees in here," her friend giggled.

"So the shawl is just a bit ridiculous, isn't it?" Miss Matilda grinned back. "But she won't quit fussing and she won't do what I ask. She treats me like I'm eighty. I guess to her twenty year old eyes, my sixty year old face looks ancient, but really!"

"Is she really twenty years old? She looks like she's about sixteen," Miss Teala said.

"She's always looked young for her age," Miss Matilda answered, "but yes, she's twenty and a great little cook, if she'd just fix what I ask her to."

"You could dismiss her and find someone else," Miss Teala suggested doubtfully.

"Yes, I suppose I could, but I'd hate to do that. She's such a dear and she tries so hard. She's only doing what she thinks is best. How can I punish her for caring?"

"But how can you pay her for disobeying?" Miss Teala asked sympathetically. "There is a way that might work." Miss Teala ended her sentence with a thoughtful look in her eye as if she were remembering something. After a moment she went on, "In some homes if a girl disobeys her mistress, out comes the slipper or the hairbrush."

"I've thought of that, believe me. How many times I've wished I could do it, but really, Teala, can you see me taking that big strapping girl over my knee?" Miss Matilda's face showed how silly this idea was and they both laughed.

"She'd definitely have to come willingly and bend over for you," Miss Teala said.

"And I'm afraid I'd need a bigger slipper. To cover her posterior adequately, it would take about a hundred strokes of this little thing," she asserted, indicating her own tiny feet.

"There's always the ruler or perhaps in Sherry's case, the rug-beater might be in order," Miss Teala suggested.

At that moment, Sherry bustled back into the room. "Here's a nice hot water bottle for your feet now, Ma'am. Just take a moment to fix you up," she said as she placed the hot water bottle on Miss Matilda's feet. "Wouldn't want you catching cold now. And what was this about a ruler and a rug beater? You're not going on again about new rugs for this room, are you?" It was amazing to Miss Teala how condescending the girl could sound.

"Yes," Miss Matilda recovered smoothly. "It would make things so much more comfy this fall."

"Why don't you bring your mistress the ruler and the beater, just in case she wants them," Miss Teala said, more to see what Sherry would do than anything.

Keeping her tone respectful, Sherry answered, "If that's what you wish, ma'am, I'll bring them in a moment. But first I'll make y'all a nice cup of chamomile tea." With that, she left the room not even listening to anything Miss Matilda might say.

"Make that oolong, girl. You know I don't like chamomile." Then to her friend, she said, "That rug-beater is sounding better and better. I may have to tell her to take her licking and shape up after that or find herself another position. Of course, the licking I can muster up the strength to give her may not make her shape up either. And just think how hard it will be to find a new girl at this time of year."

The two friends were just thinking on all this when the new odd-job man walked by the window with his small hatchet in one hand and a bundle of long twigs in the other.

"Now who is that, Matilda?" Miss Teala asked.

"That's Mr. Finnegan. He's got a reputation among the other servants in town as drifter and a bit of a ladies' man, but I needed someone so desperately that I hired him as he passed through. I have not been at all disappointed in his work. In fact, just the opposite. Seems a bit strange that such a smart, hard-working man should go around getting odd jobs rather than settling down to work, but that's his business, I guess. He's very reliable and respectful. I wish Sherry would take a leaf out of his book, as a matter of fact. He does whatever I tell him, just how I tell him or even better." Miss Matilda saw him and called through the open window, "What have you got there, Mr. Finnegan?"

"Just trimmings from the hickory, ma'am. You asked me to prune back the magnolia and when I done it, I seen that the hickory needed attention, too. I'll set the cuttings to cure for kindling in the fall, if that'll suit you," he replied.

"Thank you, Mr. Finnegan. That will be fine," she answered and Finn went on with his work. To her friend, she remarked, "Seems a shame to waste all those switches, though."

"Seems a shame to waste those strong arms," Miss Teala said slyly. After a moment, her comment sunk in.

"You mean...?" asked Miss Matilda in shocked voice.

"Why not?" asked Miss Teala right back. "I know you haven't had him long, but Mr. Finnegan takes your orders. He'll do what you ask of him. And unless I miss my guess, he's been on the receiving end of Sherry's bossy ways. She's a nice girl, but used to having her own way. What she'll try with you, she probably does even worse with the other help. This is one duty he'd probably jump at the chance to perform."

"It wouldn't hurt to find out," Miss Matilda replied. "All he can say is 'no', but I have a feeling he might agree."

Miss Matilda looked out the window and beckoned to Finn when she caught his eye.

"A word, Mr. Finnegan, if you don't mind," she called.

"Coming, ma'am," he replied politely.

When he arrived at the window, Miss Matilda leaned through the sill and spoke in a quiet voice. "I'd have you come in, but this is one time where I think it is best we converse without letting Sherry know."

"I see, ma'am. Confidential, like." He nodded to show he understood.

"You see, I have a rather special job I need you to undertake for me. It concerns a bit of pruning that needs to be done, but I want you to be sure to be very careful how you go about it."

"What ain't tended goes wild, don't it now, ma'am? It'll be all right. I'll be my carefullest with it, I give you my word. Just tell me where it is and I'll get to work."

"Well, I suppose it's in the kitchen," she answered with a smile, "but I'm afraid I have some more explaining to do." She was beating around the bush with all this gardening talk but to come right out and ask the man to spank the daylights out of her maid was turning out to be more difficult than she had figured on.

"Not sure I take your meaning, ma'am. In the kitchen? What would a tree be doing there?"

"It's not a tree. It's a she."

"Beg pardon?"

"I mean Sherry," Miss Matilda tried again.

Finn scratched his head in consternation. He had never heard a tree called a "she" before, but then again, he had not been in town long. He knew that sometimes elderly ladies without family got attached to their pets or gardens like they were children so he thought perhaps Miss Matilda was talking in that way. "Cherry? I don't recall no cherry tree around here."

"No, no, not 'cherry'. I said, 'Sherry' and I was speaking in metaphores."

"Oh, like in school. So do you mean...you mean Sherry? Like the maid?"

"I do indeed. Sherry is very special to me and I really don't want to lose her but she seems to have gotten a bit too big for her pot, if you take my meaning. If I don't do something soon, she'll take over the house. Best to prune her back now, don't you think?"

"I suppose so, but I don't rightly know how to go about that kind of thing, ma'am. I mean, I'm an odd-job man, but that job may be too odd, even for me." He had no idea what the woman had in mind.

Miss Matilda blushed bright red and shook her head as if to say she could not go on. Miss Teala realized that her friend would never come right out and ask the poor man to paddle her maid so she stepped in. "Mr. Finnegan, may I tell you a little story? It may help explain what your mistress requires of you."

"I'd be right glad if you did, ma'am," Finn replied.

"When my little maid Bitsy gets mopey, she tends to burn the dinner. Every once in a while I can stand scorched beans or overdone roasts, but when it happened three days in a row last summer, I had to put my foot down. There was no cause for her to be all down in the dumps like that anyway, so I had a word with her husband, Ben. I didn't say much but I told him about her moping and the burned dinners. Then I handed him a hairbrush and told him he could give it to Bitsy if he wanted to. She needed it more than I did, I said. The next day, Bitsy stood smiling at the stove all day and I had the best dinner I'd eaten in weeks." She looked at him with one eyebrow raised. The look she saw on his face made her grin.

He didn't know whether he should be shocked about what she had done or more shocked that she would tell him what she had done. But then again, there was nothing shocking about a wife getting a lesson or two over her husband's knee. Finn was not a married man, but he knew some of his friends had to deal with their wives like that and it did them all no end of good. But to have an old lady tell him to treat her maid that way was where the strangeness came in. It took a minute for him to get a clear idea of what they wanted, then a change came over his face and Miss Teala grinned.

"Miss Matilda, I think I do take your meaning now. But I ain't quite sure I'm up to the job. I can get it done, but will it take? She might up and quit on you. Or she might slap my face and then quit on you, 'cause of course I got to tell her why she's getting...uh, pruned, as you might say, so as she'll know it's you she got to shape up for."

"If she decides to give notice," Miss Matilda said resolutely, "on my head be it. I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it. Things can't go on the way they are."

"So when do you mean for me to take care of this little chore?" Finn asked.

"I would like for you to take care of things as soon as possible, if you can manage it. The sooner the better really," she whispered as the parlor door opened and Sherry walked in.

Finn saw who it was and ducked out of sight. He listened as she bustled in and announced, "Here is a nice pot of chamomile tea. I'll have your supper ready at the usual time so I think a nap would be in order before that. I'll be back in a few minutes to help you upstairs. Here, now, your shawl has slipped off. I'll just put it back around your shoulders."

"I don't want my shawl and I don't want this tea. Bring me what I asked for, if you please." Miss Matilda tried not to be harsh but her patience was wearing thin. Being treated like a child was not her idea of a good time.

"Now, now, Miss Matilda, this tea is good for you and your shawl will ward off the draft. It's for your own good, so be a nice girl and drink up." With that she left the room and Finn stood back up so that his big frame almost filled the window.

"I think I see the problem now, Miss Matilda. I knowed she tried to boss me something fierce, but I had no idea she was trying to do you that way too. I'll take care of the job just as soon as I can," he assured her.

"It might be best," suggested Miss Teala, "if you and I went for a little walk, Matilda, dear. That will give Mr. Finnegan here plenty of privacy."

Later that evening, Sherry wrote in her personal diary:

I can't hardly believe what happened this afternoon. That MAN had the nerve to do something to me that I haven't had done since I don't even remember when. I can hardly bring myself to write it down, but I just have to or I'll explode.

I was going in to take Miss Matilda up for her nap. Having Miss Teala come visit really lifts her spirits, but it tires her out so. I don't want her to take no cold nor chill nor nothing, so I'm always right careful to watch out for her. Well, I opened the parlor door and looked around to find Miss Matilda when who should I see but that Finn.

When I seen him in the parlor, I wasn't scared. I mean, I know there's something not quite right about him, but Deputy Moncrief seems to trust him and even comes over to talk to him sometimes, so I know he must be all right. I knowed he wouldn't dare try to make improper advances. No, that thought never entered my mind. I just thought he was looking for Miss Matilda to ask her a question or something.

I have to admit he's a handsome brute with his red hair and his blue eyes, but I heard he never stays in one place long enough to get attached to anyone, so I haven't given him a second look since he's been here. He's so used to all the girls swooning over him that I guess I made him mad 'cause I don't swoon.

So, I was coming in carrying the rug beater and the ruler that Miss Matilda had asked for. I thought I'd show them to her and then take her up for her nap. I hoped that by the time she woke up again, she would forget all about this nonsense of the rug. Now I see that Finn had tricked her into asking for those things so that he would have some things handy that he could use to roast my rump.

He was standing behind the door and closed and locked it behind me the minute I came in. He even put the key up on the door jamb so that if I wanted to reach it, I'd have to get a chair. I asked him what he was doing and he claimed that Miss Matilda told him I was in need of a attitude adjustment. As if that lovely little angel would ever think about any such thing. She loves the way I fuss over her. She tells me she wants me to leave her be, but I know she really laps up all the attention. So I knowed he was just making that up about Miss Matilda telling him to say anything to me.

Then all of a sudden he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me over to the settee. He plopped hisself right down and with no more than a grunt of explanation, he threw me over his knee and started spanking the living daylights out of me. I have never been so shocked in all my life. What call did he have to be spanking me?

I thought my bottom was on fire, I really did. Gosh, how it hurt. I kicked and screamed but he didn't pay the least bit of attention. "Mr. Finnegan, sir," says me, "Please stop. I don't know why you would want to do such a thing to me, but really, I don't think you got no right."

All this time he just keeps on wailing on my rear end. He stops for a second, just to make me think it's over and get my hopes up then starts in again and this time it feels like bee-stings. A million bees, it felt like, all stinging me and then stinging me again. I reached one hand back cautiously to try to defend my honor, but he took the ruler and tried to break it across my knuckles. I kept my hand out of the way after that.

I kept pretty quiet, considering the horrible pain I was in, but he didn't listen to a word I said, anyway. He just put down the ruler and picked up the rug beater. He swung it so hard again and again covering every inch of my backside. I'm sure I'll wear the imprint of that rug beater for a month. I did shed a few tears, I suppose, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he was hurting me. I just kept my pride and dignity and didn't let him know how hard it hurt.

And he had the audacity to tell me to make up my mind whether he was killing me like I had claimed in the beginning or whether it didn't matter to me, like I said at the end. Then he gave me ten more hard swats which he said were for lying. Then he turned loose of my waist and I jumped up. He held me close to him in a right forward manner and I thought I was going to have to slap his face, but just when I thought I would have to call for help, he quit and said I had to go stand in the corner and count to one hundred before I could come out.

Of course, I refused, so he backed down. When he gave in, I did have to go dust the china cabinet for several minutes then he unlocked the door and slammed out of the parlor just to show what a great big man he is. Humph! Well, I left the room when I was good and ready. I never seen a bigger show off than Lester Finnegan in my life. I hope I never see him again in this world or the next. I surely plan to give him a piece of my mind when he comes in tomorrow for his morning cup of coffee.

That evening at The Dixie Rose Saloon, Finn finished off his drink and looked around to be sure no one was listening. "I'll tell you what happened," he said to his friend Ben. "I took a leaf out of your book, I guess. See, Miss Matilda finally came to her senses and decided to ask me to jerk a knot in Sherry's tail. I wouldn't pass up a job like that for the world. I been powerful tired of her bossing and nagging and sassing for a while now.

So, in she traipses as pretty as you please, all huffy when she finds out that Miss Matilda left, just like she's mad that Miss Matilda went off without telling her. I tells her, says me, I says, 'You best straighten up and fly right. Miss Matilda is your boss and you got to do as she says do. She done told me to tell you that you either come over here now and take what you got coming to you or find yourself a new job.' Then I set down on the settee and she was so meek and biddable-like that she just come right over to me. She laid herself over my knee like she'd been doing it all her life. Funny how right and good it felt, like she knowed she deserved to be there.

I told her as how she needed to mind and not sass back or get bossy with nobody ever again or she'd get more of what I was aiming to give her. Then I tapped her a few times on the petute, real gentle-like to get her used to it. She screamed and hollered at first, cussed something terrible trying to make me think she was hurting. When she figured out I wasn't fooled, she hushed. I took a break to give her time to figure out who was boss and settle down before I started in on her again. After a while she started to squirm around and I had to put my hand on her back to calm her down. I got out the ruler and it must have got her attention 'cause she reached back right when I was swinging it down. It may have clipped her knuckles just a tad, so I caught her hands up and held them so she wouldn't get them in the way again.

Then I used the rug beater on her little hiney. I just barely touched her with it 'cause I couldn't get a good swing with her over my knee and all. Lordy, but did that girl carry on. She was sassing me and calling me names to beat the band. I finally had to tell her to make up her mind as to whether I was killing her or needed to spank her harder to make her shape up.

She finally lay over my lap just plumb wore out. I kept her there for a minute then took her in my arms to comfort her. She sniffled a minute and I knowed that deep down she was sorry. So I sent her to the corner and she went, just as quiet as a lamb. I watched her and she stayed there till I told her she could count to one hundred then go on back to work. Then I left to get back to my real chores. But all day long, I just kept remembering how good she felt in my arms. It's a thing a man don't forget easy.

Ben laughed at the look on Finn's face, then clapped him on the shoulder. "Finn, my pal, I don't know if you cottoned on to it yet, but I'm afraid your hash is 'bout half way fried already."

"What do you mean?" Finn asked suspiciously.

"I mean you best marry that girl and make this all right and proper or you'll drive yourself crazy in a week wanting her. You're already half in love with her, any fool can see."

"I'd best not be in love with her. She'd never give me a second look. She's a respectable female with a good job and a decent family. She knows I'm just a drifter."

"You're as hard-working a man as ever I seen, pal, and that ain't no common thing to say 'bout a drifter. All the sheriff's deputies like you, which ain't the way it usually is with drifters either. I got my suspicions that there's more to you than meets the eye, but it ain't none of my business, so I'll let it lay for now. All I got to say is, if I was you, I'd be durn sure whatever game I was playing was worth losing a great little gal like Sherry. I can't think of how it could be, but that's your business."

"I ain't even got her yet and you're already talking about me losing her. Make up your mind, will you?" Finn grinned at Ben, then mosied out into the night as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"You could do a lot worse than Sherry, pal," Ben called after him then turned to head home himself. He was sure that Sherry would have found time to tell everything to his Bitsy and she would want to bend his ear about it pronto. He looked forward to hearing her side of the story.

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