Summary:  Little Joe advertises for a new Cartwright when he decides that he doesn’t want to be the youngest brother anymore

Rated: K+ (5,610 words)

 

The Brother Campaign

“Move your feet,” Adam instructed as he raked some of the hay from near the bale where his little brother was sitting.

 

 

 

Joe obligingly put his small feet up on the hay-bale and looked at his brother as he continued to rake. “How come you haveta do that Adam?” he asked.

 

 

 

“So that the horses don’t get sick,” replied Adam.

 

 

 

“From all their poop huh?” asked Joe. “That’s why you rake it away and put it onto the manure pile ain’t it?”

 

 

 

“Yes,” said Adam vaguely.

 

 

 

“I wish I could do the manure pile,” sighed his little brother. “You get all the fun.”

 

 

 

“Believe me squirt,” chuckled Adam. “The manure pile sure isn’t any fun. Besides … your turn will come.”

 

 

 

“When I’m bigger,” sighed Joe wistfully.

 

 

 

“Yes,” said Adam. “When you’re bigger. Hoss and I will be very happy to hand that particular chore over to you little brother.”

 

 

 

“Everyone always says when I’m bigger,” sighed Joe, putting his chin on his drawn up knees. “When will I be bigger Adam?”

 

 

 

“Soon enough,” said Adam, ruffling his little brother’s hair before walking towards the door of the barn.

 

 

 

“What are we doin now Adam?” asked Joe as he jumped down from the hay-bale and followed his older brother outside. “Something int’resting?”

 

 

 

“I’m going to cut some wood,” replied Adam, getting the axe from the top of the stump next to the pile of kindling. “You can watch.” He started to work, watched by Joe who had perched himself on top of the kindling.

 

 

 

“Will I cut wood when I’m bigger too?” he asked presently.

 

 

 

“Uh huh,” said Adam, picking up another piece.

 

 

 

“Adam?”

 

 

 

“Yes?”

 

 

 

“Iffen you and Hoss will give me your chores when I get big enuff, then who will I give em to when I grow real big?”

 

 

 

Adam stopped cutting and stared at his little brother for a moment. “Well,” he said. “That’s one I’ll have to think about.”

 

 

 

Joe nodded. “Yeah,” he said seriously and then his small face lit up. “I know,” he said. “We need another brother. A little one fer me so’s I got someone to hand my chores onto.”

 

 

 

Adam smiled. “Maybe,” he said. “Only it isn’t that simple.”

 

 

 

“Why?”

 

 

 

“Well … where are you going to get this little brother from?” Adam teased playfully.

 

 

 

Joe frowned as he thought about it. “I dunno,” he said. “That’s one I’ll have to think about.” He sat in deep thought, his small brow furrowed in contemplation. “I reckon it’d be good but,” he said after a few moments. “Then I’d have someone to boss around like you and Hoss do. I wish I’d been born the older brother so’s I could do the bossing round.”

 

 

 

“Being the oldest isn’t all that great kid,” said Adam. “There’s lots of good things about being the youngest.”

 

 

 

Joe was thoughtful again. “Yeah,” he agreed. “You’re probbly right. I reckon Hoss is the lucky one, huh Adam? He’s got a older brother and a younger brother. He’s lucky being in the middle.”

 

 

 

“Maybe,” said Adam splitting another log.

 

 

 

“Iffen I had a younger brother then I’d be in the middle too,” surmised Joe with a grin. “Ain’t that right Adam?”

 

 

 

“I suppose so,” said Adam vaguely as he picked up yet another piece of wood and wondered where his little brother got all his ideas from. “Why don’t you go and see if Hop Sing needs some help?” he suggested, thinking it might be a way to get some peace and quiet away from the child’s chattering.

 

 

 

“OK,” said Joe happily, jumping down from the wood heap and running towards the kitchen door. “I’ll come back iffen he don’t!” he shouted over his shoulder.

 

 

 

“Oh goody,” muttered Adam under his breath, hoping that the cook would have a lot of things to keep his little brother busy. Adam loved the child dearly, but sometimes in small doses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ben looked at his youngest son who was lying in bed grinning up at him. “Did you wash your face?” he asked. Joe nodded his head. “Behind your ears?” Joe hesitated and then nodded his head again, more slowly this time and Ben raised an eyebrow. “Jo-seph?” he said.

 

 

 

Joe’s nod turned into a slow shake of his head. “Sort of,” he admitted.

 

 

 

Ben turned back the bedcovers and motioned to the washbowl and jug on the child’s dresser. “Now,” he said.

 

 

 

Little Joe reluctantly got out of bed and stood by the dresser while his father picked up a cloth and gave his face, ears and neck a thorough washing. “I didn’t say my prayers yet neither,” he admitted through the towel as his father dried his face.

 

 

 

“Kneel down,” instructed his father, pointing to the bed and Joe obediently knelt by his bed, joined his hands and closed his eyes while his father hung the towel back up and sat down on the bed to listen.

 

 

 

“Dear God,” began Joe, opening one eye to see if his father was ready and then closing it again when he had satisfied himself that he was. “Please bless my Pa and my brothers Adam and Hoss and also bless my Mama up in heaven with you. Bless Hop Sing too and make him cook roast potatoes for supper tomorrow.” He opened the eye again to see if his father approved of the statement, and closed it again as Ben didn’t react. “Please make me a good boy and not get into trubble,” Joe continued. “And please send us a baby brother for me to boss around. Amen.” He got up from his knees and into bed, not noticing the startled look on his father’s face as he did so.

 

 

 

Ben drew the bedclothes up around the child and looked down at him. “Joe, God can’t send you a baby brother,” he said after a moment.

 

 

 

“Why not?” asked Little Joe. “You told me that God can do anything he likes Pa.”

 

 

 

Ben nodded. “Well yes,” he said slowly. “But he made us so that we need a mother and a father to have a baby,” he said. “You know all about that. We’ve talked about it before.”

 

 

 

Joe thought for a moment. “Oh yeah,” he said. “I forgot.” He propped himself up on his elbows an looked at his father sadly. “We don’t have a mother to have us a baby now, do we?” he said.

 

 

 

Ben shook his head as he smoothed own his son’s curls. “No,” he said, with a tinge of sadness in his own voice. “We don’t.”

 

 

 

Joe studied his father’s expression for a moment. “Maybe one day we’ll get us another mother, and then we could get us another brother?” he said hopefully. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Pa?”

 

 

 

Ben tried not to let his despair at the thought of their loss show on his face to his small son. “Maybe one day,” he said softly. “Not now.” He bent down and kissed Little Joe on the forehead. “Goodnight son,” he said. “Sleep well.”

 

 

 

“Night Pa,” replied Joe.  He waited until his father had turned down the lamp and left the room before kicking the covers off himself and getting out of bed again to kneel on the floor. He closed his eyes and joined his hands. “Dear God,” he began. “One more thing. Please bring us a mother to have a baby brother for us. Amen.” With a satisfied nod, he got back into bed again and rolled over to face the wall, sure in the knowledge that God would take care of things now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Joe waited three days before deciding that God wasn’t in any hurry to bring them a mother to have a baby brother. On the third morning at the breakfast table, he sought to find out why. “Pa?”

 

 

 

“Yes son?” replied Ben.

 

 

 

“Does God always give us what we ask for?”

 

 

 

Ben shook his head as he sipped his coffee. “Not always,” he replied.

 

 

 

“How come?”

 

 

 

“Well,” Ben put down his coffee and looked at the serious expression on his son’s face. “God knows better than us if we should have it or not,” he said.

 

 

 

Joe thought about that for a moment. “Well, what if we want something real bad?  Shouldn’t God give it to us then?”

 

 

 

Ben considered for a moment. “If we want something real bad, then God gave us our minds and our bodies to work to get it,” he said finally. “If we want something bad enough, then there’s usually nothing that to stop us getting it, if we’re willing to work hard enough,” he finished.

 

 

 

“Oh,” said Joe thoughtfully.

 

 

 

“Sometimes God expects us to go out and work for things ourselves,” Ben continued. He studied the child for a moment. “What is it you want Little Joe?”

 

 

 

Joe hung his head and studied his plate. “Jest something,” he said. “It’s between God and me Pa. I’ve been praying for it, but God ain’t hearing me too good.”

 

 

 

Ben tried to keep a straight face. “I see,” he said. “Joe, God always hears our prayers. Maybe he’s not giving you what you’re asking for because he wants you to work for it instead? Remember what I always tell you boys? Hard work is very important.”

 

 

 

“But I don’t know how to work for this,” protested Joe.

 

 

 

Ben smiled at the boy. “If God thinks you need to, then he’ll show you the way to work for it,” he said. “Now eat your breakfast.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Little Joe sat on a grain sack on the back of the buckboard sucking on a peppermint stick as his father loaded up the supplies, helped by Hoss who also had a peppermint stick sticking out of his mouth as he worked. “Morning Ben,” said Sheriff Roy Coffee as he walked along the sidewalk. “Morning boys.”

 

 

 

“Roy!” said Ben, straightening up and shaking the sheriff’s hand. “I was going to come and see you before we left town. I’m glad we ran into you.” Roy smiled at Ben and ruffled Hoss’ hair before winking at Little Joe. Both boys gave him a wide smile, as the sheriff was well known to them and liked by both. “I wanted to know if you needed the boys to help put up your posters again this year?” continued Ben.

 

 

 

Roy nodded. “That’d sure be great Ben. Thanks,” he said. “The printing office said they’d have em ready fer next week. So you’ll be willing ta help me with my campaign?”

 

 

 

“Don’t I always?” laughed Ben, slapping the other man on the back. “I have to help make sure that we get the very best sheriff available come election time, don’t I? Don’t you worry Roy, I’ll be ready and willing to help you with your campaign in any way I can. Tell you what,” he suggested. “How about coming out to the house on Friday night for one of Hop Sing’s suppers and we can discuss it then?”

 

 

 

“I’ll just do that,” replied Roy with a grin. “Well … I must be going. It’s important for folks ta see my face as much as possible before the campaign begins.” He waved to the boys. “See you later boys.”

 

 

 

“See ya sheriff,” said Hoss, slinging another bag of grain up onto the buckboard. “Hey Pa?  Does that mean I get ta help with them posters this year too?”

 

 

 

Ben slapped his son on the back. “Sure does,” he said. “I think you’re just about big enough to help Adam this year.”

 

 

 

“Pa?” piped up Little Joe, taking his peppermint stick out of his mouth.

 

 

 

Ben shook his head. “Not this year Little Joe,” he said. “Maybe in a few years.”

 

 

 

“Maybe what in a few years?” asked Joe in a puzzled tone.

 

 

 

Ben gave him a strange look. “I thought that you were asking …. Never mind son. What is it?”

 

 

 

“What’s a cam … cam … pain?” asked Joe as his father and brother climbed up on the buckboard seat, one on each side of him.

 

 

 

“A campaign son is something you do to get people to commit to something.”

 

 

 

“Like Sheriff Coffee getting elected again,” said Hoss.

 

 

 

“Yes,” said his father, hitching up the reins.

 

 

 

“What’s a comm. … it?” asked Joe.

 

 

 

“Well …. It’s a promise to do something,” explained his father. “In Sheriff Coffee’s campaign he asks people to vote for him and they say that they will. That’s a commitment to vote for him.”

 

 

 

“How does he campaign Pa?” asked Hoss. “What does he do?”

 

 

 

“Well …. He puts up the posters ….”

 

 

 

“Uh huh!” interrupted Joe. “Adam and Hoss put up them posters.”

 

 

 

“Well they put them up for Sheriff Coffee,” went on Ben. “And he talks to people and makes speeches.”

 

 

 

Little Joe looked thoughtful for a moment. “That sounds real hard,” he said.

 

 

 

Ben smiled at him. “He writes to people as well,” he went on.

 

 

 

“What does he write?” asked Joe, suddenly interested again.

 

 

 

“He writes them letters asking them to vote for him,” said Ben.

 

 

 

“Writing letters is easy,” said Joe excitedly.

 

 

 

Ben ruffled his hair. “Depending on how many he has to write,” he said. “But yes …. I suppose letters are easy.”

 

 

 

Joe wrinkled up his small nose, deep in thought. “And does the people do what Sheriff Coffee says?” he asked.

 

 

 

“Sheriff Coffee doesn’t tell them what to do,” Ben said patiently. “He asks them to vote for him.”

 

 

 

“That’s being polite,” said Hoss knowingly.

 

 

 

“Yes,” agreed his father. “Now …. any more questions about campaigning boys?” he chuckled.

 

 

 

“Nuh,” answered Hoss, sucking on his peppermint and looking content.

 

 

 

“Nuh,” answered Little Joe, sucking on his peppermint and looking thoughtful.

 

 

 

 

 

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Joe leant his arms on the dining room table and stared at his older brother until Adam put down his pencil with a sigh and looked back at the little boy. “What?” he asked.

 

 

 

“What are ya doin’ Adam?” asked Joe.

 

 

 

“Studying,” replied Adam, picking up his pencil again.

 

 

 

“What for?”

 

 

 

“My college exams,” replied Adam. There was silence for another couple of minutes until he looked over at his little brother again who was still staring at him. “Do you want something?” he asked, clearly irritated.  Little Joe nodded. “Well what is it then?” asked Adam. “Out with it.”

 

 

 

Joe pointed to the pile of papers next to his brother’s books. “Can I get some of them papers?” he asked.

 

 

 

“What for?”

 

 

 

“Cause I want to do some writing,” replied Joe. “Can I Adam? I need ….” He screwed up his nose and counted something silently on his fingers. “I need … four.”

 

 

 

Adam gave him four pieces of paper. “Are you practising your writing for Miss Jones?” he asked with a smile.

 

 

 

Joe shook his head. “Nah! I’m writing a cam … campain. Can I have a pencil too?”

 

 

 

“Please,” said Adam, handing him a pencil.

 

 

 

“Please,” said Joe with a grin as he took the pencil. “Thanks.” He seated himself opposite his older brother at the table and screwed up his nose again, clearly in deep thought about something.

 

 

 

Adam tried not to laugh at his younger brother’s seriousness. “What’s the campaign for?” he asked teasingly.

 

 

 

“I ain’t telling,” said Joe smugly as he began to write. “It’s a secret between me and God.”

 

 

 

“What’s a secret?” asked Ben, coming into the room.

 

 

 

“Joe’s campaign,” said Adam with a wink at his father.

 

 

 

Ben put on a serious face. “I see,” he said. “Well don’t let me disturb you boys at your work.” He chuckled to himself as he went to sit in his chair by the fireplace. “Oh that reminds me Adam,” he said. “Those posters will be ready next week for Roy’s campaign. I told him that you and Hoss would put them up.”

 

 

 

“Sure Pa,” said Adam.

 

 

 

“Roy will be here on Friday to discuss his campaign,” said Ben, reaching for his pipe.

 

 

 

“Is that where someone learnt about campaigns?” asked Adam with a chuckle, indicating his little brother who was busy writing on one of his papers, his tongue sticking out from between his teeth as he concentrated on doing his neatest writing.

 

 

 

“Yes,” said Ben, giving his eldest son a wink. “I have a suspicion that someone doesn’t want to be left out. Whatever its doing will be harmless enough and keep it quiet for a while at least.” He settled down and lit his pipe as he listened to the crackling of the fire in the grate.

 

 

 

The writing definitely did keep Joe quiet for the evening and by the time Ben called him to go to bed he had covered most of the four pieces of paper. “You want me to check your spelling for you?” asked Adam as Joe gathered up his papers. Secretly, Adam was dying to know what the child had written, but Joe didn’t seem very keen to share his secret just yet.

 

 

 

“No thanks,” replied Joe haughtily. “It’s a secret. Sides, I can spell real good.”

 

 

 

Adam lifted an eyebrow. “Really?” he said in an amused tone. “That’s news to me.”

 

 

 

“I can so spell good!” countered Joe crossly, giving his older brother a dark look. “And I ain’t showing you neither!”

 

 

 

“Joseph, that will do,” said Ben turning around the edge of the chair and giving his youngest son a stern look. “Time for bed.”

 

 

 

Joe held his papers close to his chest as he came over to kiss his father goodnight. “Don’t worry Little Joe,” said Ben. “We’ll respect your privacy son. No one will look at your campaign.” He tousled the boy’s curly hair. “It’s a very good thing to want to help. Now up to bed with you and I’ll be up soon to tuck you in.” Joe gave his brother one last dark look and went upstairs, still holding his papers to his chest.

 

 

 

“Aren’t you worried about what he’s written?” asked Adam when Joe had disappeared.

 

 

 

“No,” replied his father. “He’s probably just writing something to help with Roy’s campaign. Whatever it is will be harmless enough, I’m sure.” He settled down again in his chair and puffed on his pipe contentedly.

 

 

 

 

 

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Ben opened the front door and looked in surprised at Mrs Adele Pruitt standing on the front porch. “Well this is a surprise,” he said with a smile, while looking over her shoulder. “Is Bert with you Adele?”

 

 

 

“No,” she replied. “He’s working down on our lower pasture this morning Ben.”

 

 

 

“Please come in,” said Ben, opening the door fully.

 

 

 

Mrs Pruitt shook her head. “Thank you Ben, but I can’t stay,” she said. “I’ve left the children at home and can’t stay away long. This really isn’t a social call.” She held out a piece of paper. “I really just came to give you this.”

 

 

 

Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What is it?” he asked as he took it.

 

 

 

“It’s a letter to me from you,” the woman replied, trying hard not to laugh. “Seth brought it home yesterday afternoon from school.  He said that Little Joe gave it to him and that it’s important.”

 

 

 

Ben looked even more puzzled as he opened the letter and read:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

deeR miSiS pRUet

 

mi Nam is miSta bEn caRtRite and I aM hAvin a caMpain. I woNt yu Ta hav a bAbi broTha fer My boYs. I fiNk yu ar pRitte aNd I am haPPe for You ta Bee tHe mOtha and I will Bee tHe fAthA. I will lOOk afta tHe babi aT mi hoUs so You woNt hav ta liSen to iT cri. PlEs riTe bak aNd tel mE if Yu are goNa say yeS. I dOnt wOnt no giRls in mi fAmilE so Yu hav ta saY it wil Bee a boY or Yu can ceeP it.

 

fROm miSta beN caRtRite

 

 

 

 

 

Ben looked up to see Adele trying not to laugh. “I’m so sorry,” he said, trying to hide his embarrassment from the woman. “It seems that I need to have a talk with my youngest son.”

 

 

 

“I thought you’d want to see it,” said Adele. She placed a hand on Ben’s arm. “Don’t be too hard on the youngster Ben. There’s no harm done.”

 

 

 

Ben cleared his throat before nodding. “Thank you for bringing it,” he said. “Did Seth say if Joe gave one of these to anyone else?”

 

 

 

Adele shook her head. “He didn’t say,” she replied. “Well, I’d better get back to the children now. I’ll see you in church tomorrow Ben.”

 

 

 

“Goodbye Adele,” said Ben, walking her to her buggy. “And again … thank you.” He helped the woman into her buggy as Adam rode into the front yard. Adam waved to Mrs Pruitt as he dismounted from his horse and walked over to his father. “Did you get the mail son?” asked Ben as he watched Mrs Pruitt’s buggy disappear around the side of the barn.

 

 

 

“I sure did,” said Adam, handing a pile of letters to his father. “And I got another letter from Mrs Devlin that you’d probably rather not see.” He fished a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Ben who opened it to see the same childish scrawl that he’d just seen on the letter to Adele Pruitt.

 

 

 

“I’ve just had one of these given to me from Adele Pruitt,” he said wearily.

 

 

 

“Mrs Devlin thought it was real funny,” said Adam, trying to keep a straight face himself. “She said not to worry about it Pa, but she thought that you’d want to see it though.”

 

 

 

“I do indeed!” said Ben with a frown. “Lord knows how many women have received them.”

 

 

 

“Well if this is the campaign that Joe’s been working on, he got four pieces of paper from me,” said Adam. “So there might still be a couple more unaccounted for.” He giggled. “You must admit that it is kinda funny Pa.”

 

 

 

Ben kept a straight face. “Heaven knows where that boy gets his ideas from,” he muttered.

 

 

 

“You’re the one who said whatever his campaign was …. it was a harmless one,” Adam reminded his father gleefully.

 

 

 

Ben gave his son a stern look that took the smirk off Adam’s face immediately. “That’s when I thought he was simply campaigning for Roy Coffee,” said Ben. “I had no idea that he was campaigning for …. this!” He waved the two papers around in his hand. “Whatever would put this idea into his head?”

 

 

 

“He’s been talking about not wanting to be the youngest in the family,” said Adam with a shrug. “I suppose that idea combined with Roy’s campaign that we’ve been talking about …” he shrugged again.

 

 

 

“I have to have a talk with that boy before this goes any further,” said Ben. “He’s in the barn with Hoss. Go and tell him to come inside please Adam.”

 

 

 

“OK,” said Adam with a grin and led his horse towards the barn.

 

 

 

Ben walked towards the house, shaking his head and reading the letters again as he did. “Joseph, Joseph,” he said wearily. “What am I going to do with that imagination of yours?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Adam opened the front door and ushered his youngest brother inside before following him. There was no way that he was going to miss out on what he considered might be a highly amusing exchange between his little brother and his father and he settled himself on the sofa to listen with an amused expression on his face.

 

 

 

Joe ran straight over to his father who was seated in his favourite chair in front of the fireplace. “Hi Pa,” Joe said happily, leaning on his father’s lap and smiling up at him. “Adam said that you and me is gonna have a talk.”

 

 

 

“We most certainly are,” said Ben, drawing the boy closer to him and bending forward to look him in the eye. “I believe that you’ve written some letters?”

 

 

 

“Yep!” said Little Joe happily, smiling up at his father.  “It’s my campaign.”

 

 

 

Ben looked down at the bright face of his youngest son and his heart melted. After all, the little boy hadn’t really meant any harm and had no idea of what problems he’d caused. He picked him up and placed him on his knee, looking at him with a serious expression on his face. “You shouldn’t have done that son,” he said.

 

 

 

Joe looked confused. “But Pa,” he protested. “You said that a campaign was a good thing to do.”

 

 

 

“I know I did,” Ben said patiently. “But only when the person you’re campaigning for knows about it. You used my name in those letters and you didn’t tell me, did you?”

 

 

 

“No,” said Joe warily. “I reckon I shoulda told you bout them letters then, huh?”

 

 

 

“Yes you should have,” said Ben.

 

 

 

“But you said that you’d spect my privacy,” countered Joe.

 

 

 

Ben closed his eyes and prayed for patience. “Yes, that’s true … I did say that, but …”

 

 

 

“And you said that God wants us ta work for things,” continued Joe. “I asked God for a little baby brother and he didn’t give me one yet, so I reckoned I had ta work a campaign for one. You said so Pa,” he finished indignantly.

 

 

 

“Son, it’s not that simple,” said Ben. “It isn’t a matter of just finding a lady to have a baby. You can’t go around asking anyone to do that. Before we can have another baby in this family I need to have a wife. Those women you sent the letters to have their own families  … they can’t be part of ours.”

 

 

 

“Miss Jones don’t,” replied Joe.

 

 

 

Ben felt weak at the knees. “Miss Jones?” he said. “Please tell me that you didn’t give one of those letters to your teacher Little Joe!”

 

 

 

“OK,” said Joe happily. “I won’t tell ya Pa.” He fished a piece of paper out of the pocket of his trousers. “I done forgot ta give you this but. When I gave Miss Jones my letter, she gave me another one ta give back to you.” He handed it to his father with a grin. “I reckon she might be writing to ya bout having that baby brother Pa.” He grinned happily at the idea. “Ain’t ya gonna read it Pa?” He asked when Ben put it on the coffee table next to him.

 

 

 

“Not at the moment,” said Ben wearily. “I have a good idea what might be in it.”

 

 

 

“Well I guess we’ll haveta tell her no now,” said Joe in a dejected tone. “If ya haveta have a wife fore we can get a little brother, we don’t want her being here.”

 

 

 

“No, we do not!” chimed in Adam.

 

 

 

Ben gave his eldest a stern look and Adam sat back in his chair. “Joe, you shouldn’t have given Miss Jones one either,” he said.

 

 

 

“It’s OK but Pa,” Joe assured his father. “Cause she ain’t married or nothing … and I left out the bit about you thinking she was pretty … cause that woulda been a lie.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t tell no lies Pa.” Ben looked at his son, momentarily lost for words. “Tell ya what Pa,” suggested Joe, leaning close to his father. “How bout I do a campaign for a wife for you iffen you don’t want a baby brother for me first? I can find some other ladies who aren’t married and campaign them. Then you’ll get a wife and I’ll get a brother!” he finished happily.

 

 

 

“No Joseph,” said Ben sternly. “There’ll be no more campaigning for wives or babies or anything else around here? Is that understood?”

 

 

 

“But I don’t mind,” Joe assured his father. “It’s fun doing a campaign.”

 

 

 

“I said no and I mean no!” said Ben firmly. He looked at Joe sternly. “Did you write a letter to anyone else?” he asked.

 

 

 

Joe shook his head. “No,” he said.

 

 

 

“Jo-seph?”

 

 

 

Joe shook his head more vigorously this time. “Honest Pa I didn’t. I only wrote three letters.”

 

 

 

“Well thank goodness for that,” said Ben thankfully. “Now we’ll hear no more about this campaigning. The next time you decide to campaign for anything son, I want you to tell me about it first. Is that understood?”

 

 

 

“Sure Pa,” said Joe, grinning at his father. “Can I go now?”

 

 

 

“Yes, you can go now,” said Ben wearily, allowing the little boy to slide down from his lap. He picked up the letter on the coffee table from Abigail Jones and began to read it as Joe ran out of the room. Beside him on the sofa, Adam began to chuckle. “I’m glad you find this amusing,” said Ben sarcastically. “I fail to see the humour in it.”

 

 

 

“I was just thinking of having Abigail Jones as a stepmother,” chuckled Adam and laughed even more as he watched the horrified expression on his father’s face.

 

 

 

 

 

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Ben tipped his hat to the three women huddled together in the corner of the small churchyard and was surprised when they all giggled as they nodded to him in reply. “What’s going on Pa?” asked Adam behind him. “That’s the third group of women who’ve laughed like that since we came out of church.

 

 

 

“I don’t know son,” replied Ben. “It sure beats me.” He pulled on Little Joe’s hand. “Come along Joe,” he said. “It’s time we were getting home.”

 

 

 

Joe stopped dragging his feet and smiled up at his father. “Can we go fishin this afternoon Pa?” he asked hopefully.

 

 

 

“We’ll see,” said his father vaguely, looking across another group of women who were laughing and pointing in his direction.

 

 

 

“That probbly means no,” sighed Joe wistfully. “It always means no when you say that you’ll see.”

 

 

 

“Ben!” Ben turned to see Roy Coffee striding across the yard. “I’m glad I caught you before you left,” said Roy with a grin. “I wanted to give you something.” He held out a tattered piece of paper towards Ben, who took it with a frown.

 

 

 

“What’s this?” he asked.

 

 

 

“Just read it,” replied Roy, his grin getting bigger. “I found it on the Livery Stable wall yesterday morning and I took it down thinking that you’d wanna see it.” Ben looked, and as he read, it suddenly occurred to him what Little Joe had used his fourth piece of paper for:

 

 

 

 

WoNteD

 
a laDe ta hAV a BoY baBi

foR

 

mIsTa beN caRtRitE

 

cUm tO

 

tHe poNdaROsa

 

if Yu Ar wiliNg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ben went slightly red as he looked down at his small son by his side and he held the paper out so that Joe could see it. “Did you do this Joe?” he asked.

 

 

 

“Yep,” replied Joe with a grin. “It’s pretty good ain’t it Pa? I put up a poster like Adam and Hoss does for Sheriff Coffee’s campaign.”

 

 

 

“When did you put this up?” asked Ben.

 

 

 

“After Miss Jones let us out from school on Friday,” explained Joe proudly. “I done it while I was waiting fer Hoss to come out. I got a nail from our barn and I banged it in all by myself. I hadta use my boot ta bang it in but, cause you always tell me not ta use a hammer.”

 

 

 

“But you told me that you hadn’t written anything else,” said Ben.

 

 

 

“Nuh uh,” said Joe, his eyes going wide. “You asked me if I’d wrote any more letters. You never asked me if I’d wrote a poster.” He gave his father an anxious look. “Weren’t that a good thing ta do neither Pa?”

 

 

 

“No son, it wasn’t,” sighed Ben. He looked over at Roy who was still grinning at them both. “When did you take this down Roy?”

 

 

 

“Saturday afternoon,” said Roy. “Some of the fellars in the saloon were hanging round it and laughing, so I thought it best ta get it down.”

 

 

 

Ben wiped a hand over his face. “No wonder everyone’s been looking at me strangely,” he said. “It was up there long enough for the whole town to find out about it.”

 

 

 

“Now Ben,” said Roy with a chuckle. “Everyone knows it was a joke. Don’t take on about it.” He laughed again. “I think it’s quite funny.”

 

 

 

Ben gave him a dark look. “It’s not funny Roy.” He pulled Joe by the hand. “You come along home now,” he said. “You and I need to have another talk young man.”

 

 

 

“Oh Ben?” called Roy after them as they headed towards their buggy. “I was just wondering if you are gonna have time to still help me with my campaign?”

 

 

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” asked Ben crossly over his shoulder as he lifted Joe up into the buggy.

 

 

 

“Well I don’t want to take you away from other important things,” said Roy. “After all, you might have lots of ladies calling on you this week out at The Ponderosa and you mightn’t have time.”

 

 

 

Several people who were standing nearby dissolved into fits of laughter and Ben glared at them all before turning to Adam and Hoss who were standing behind him doubled up with laughter. “You two can just get up into that buggy!” he said crossly. “Hurry up! And stop that laughing!”

 

 

 

Adam nudged Hoss and they climbed up into the buggy, trying desperately to stop their giggling. Ben got in front of them and hitched up the reins, driving away to the sound of everyone’s laughter ringing in his ears. “So are we gonna go fishin this afternoon Pa?” asked Little Joe, wondering what everyone was laughing about.

 

 

 

The End