Until his wife was lost to him, he believed that he had a mighty grievance against her; but as he was not wordy, and was by nature kind, it was her comfort to die and not to know it.

This grievance was rooted in the idea that she was ruinously extravagant.

The sight of the plentiful table was sore to him; the hungry mouths, though he grudged to his offspring nothing that he could pay for, were an afflicting prospect.

"Plump 'em up, and make 'em dainty," he advanced in contravention of his wife's talk of bread and beef.
But he did not complain.

If it came to an argument, the farmer sidled into a secure corner of prophecy, and bade his wife to see what would come of having dainty children.