“But you weren’t raised to sell pies any more than Tommy was raised to wrastle with a bunch of wild Irish masons. My kind of work is more—”
“And I suppose you were raised to run a lumber mill，” said Tommy， the corners of his mouth twitching. “Yes， I can just see little Scarlett at her mother’s knee， lisping her lesson， ‘Never sell good lumber if you can get a better price for bad.’ ”
René roared at this， his small monkey eyes dancing with glee as he whacked Tommy on his twisted back.
“Don’t be impudent，” said Scarlett coldly， for she saw little humor in Tommy’s remark. “Of course， I wasn’t raised to run a sawmill.”
“I didn’t mean to be impudent. But you are running a sawmill， whether you were raised to it or not. And running it very well， too. Well， none of us， as far as I can see， are doing what we intended to do right now， but I think well make out just the same. It’s a poor person and a poor nation that sits down and cries because life isn’t precisely what they expected it to be. Why don’t you pick up some enterprising Carpetbagger to work for you， Scarlett？ The woods are full of them， God knows.”
“I don’t want a Carpetbagger. Carpetbaggers will steal anything that isn’t red hot or nailed down. If they amounted to anything they’d have stayed where they were， instead of coming down here to pick our bones. I want a nice man， from nice folks， who is smart and honest and energetic and—”
“You don’t want much. And you won’t get it for the wage you’re offering. All the men of that description， barring the badly maimed ones， have already got something to do. They may be round pegs in square holes but they’ve all got something to do. Something of their own that they’d rather do than work for a woman.”
“Men haven’t got much sense， have they， when you get down to rock bottom？”
“Maybe not but they’ve got a heap of pride，” said Tommy soberly.
“Pride！ Pride tastes awfully good， especially when the crust is flaky and you put meringue on it，” said Scarlett tartly.
The two men laughed， a bit unwillingly， and it seemed to Scarlett that they drew together in united masculine disapproval of her. What Tommy said was true， she thought， running over in her mind the men she had approached and the ones she intended to approach. They were all busy， busy at something， working hard， working harder than they would have dreamed possible in the days before the war. They weren’t doing what they wanted to do perhaps， or what was easiest to do， or what they had been reared to do， but they were doing something. Times were too hard for men to be choosy. And if they were sorrowing for lost hopes， longing for lost ways of living， no one knew it but they. They were fighting a new war， a harder war than the one before. And they were caring about life again， caring with the same urgency and the same violence that animated them before the war had cut their lives in two.
“Scarlett，” said Tommy awkwardly， “I do hate to ask a favor of you， after being impudent to you， but I’m going to ask it just the same. Maybe it would help you anyway. My brother-in-law， Hugh Elsing， isn’t doing any too well peddling kindling wood. Everybody except the Yankees goes out and collects his own kindling wood. And I know things are mighty hard with the whole Elsing family. I—I do what I can， but you see I’ve got Fanny to support， and then， too， I’ve got my mother and two widowed sisters down in Sparta to look after. Hugh is nice， and you wanted a nice man， and he’s from nice folks， as you know， and he’s honest.”
“But—well， Hugh hasn’t got much gumption or else he’d make a success of his kindling.”
Tommy shrugged.
“You’ve got a hard way of looking at things， Scarlett，” he said. “But you think Hugh over. You could go far and do worse. I think his honesty and his willingness will outweigh his lack of gumption.”
Scarlett did not answer， for she did not want to be too rude. But to her mind there were few， if any， qualities that out-weighed gumption.
After she had unsuccessfully canvassed the town and refused the importuning of many eager Carpetbaggers， she finally decided to take Tommy’s suggestion and ask Hugh Elsing. He had been a dashing and resourceful officer during the war， but two severe wounds and four years of fighting seemed to have drained him of all his resourcefulness， leaving him to face the rigors of peace as bewildered as a child. There was a lost-dog look in his eyes these days as he went about peddling his firewood， and he was not at all the kind of man she had hoped to get.
“He’s stupid，” she thought. “He doesn’t know a thing about business and I’ll bet he can’t add two and two. And I doubt if he’ll ever learn. But， at least， he’s honest and won’t swindle me.”
Scarlett had little use these days for honesty in herself， but the less she valued it in herself the more she was beginning to value it in others.
“It’s a pity Johnnie Gallegher is tied up with Tommy Wellburn on that construction work，” she thought. “He’s just the kind of man I want He’s hard as nails and slick as a snake， but he’d be honest if it paid him to be honest I understand him and he understands me and we could do business together very well. Maybe I can get him when the hotel is finished and till then I’ll have to make out on Hugh and Mr. Johnson. If I put Hugh in charge of the new mill and leave Mr. Johnson at the old one， I can stay in town and see to the selling while they handle the milling and hauling. Until I can get Johnnie I’ll have to risk Mr. Johnson robbing me if I stay in town all the time. If only he wasn’t a thief！ I believe I’ll build a lumber yard on half that lot Charles left me. If only Frank didn’t holler so loud about me building a saloon on the other half！ Well， I shall build the saloon just as soon as I get enough money ahead， no matter how he takes on. If only Frank wasn’t so thin skinned. Oh， God， if only I wasn’t going to have a baby at this of all times！ In a little while I’ll be so big I can’t go out. Oh， God， if only I wasn’t going to have a baby！ And oh， God， if the damned Yankees will only let me alone！ If—”