Bloomington herald. [volume] (Bloomington, I. T. [Iowa]) 1840-1849, 1841-03-26

ture upon the same impressions, upon the same
experience! Fiery ladies may be beautiful,
SO may kicking poney; but tame them if you
/ can.
FitZgig in two weeks was metamorphosed
into only my husband. He struggled hard,
| but who can resist his fate! Mrs. Fitzgig
chastised him so with the valor of her tongue
and of her deeds,' that his va!or was speedily
| returned non est inventus.
Pm going out of town, fishing, to-mor-
row my DEAR said Fitzgig, as he buckled on
| his stock before the glass, early one morning;
but I'll be back my darling, soon the next day.
mo you won't, my love- ,shrieked Mrs.
| Fitzgig, as she sat bolt upright in bed, l see
how it is, tired of your poor wife already; yes,
| tired I! say tired!'
So saying. Mrs. Fitzgig sprang out Of her
| nest, lifted up pitcher Of water, and smashed
| it all to pieces on the floor.
Fi,zgig felt considerable dashed; but eye
ing the pitcher and streaming water, he repeat
ed in tremulous tones, l'm going fshing?'
The basin followed the pitcher; Mrs. Fitz-
gig seized the looking glass, and calculated
| with significant glance, Going fishing!
What could Fitzgig do? He was concern
ed, as they say in the neighborhood of Star and
Bank Alley. So he knuckled down close
The war was unexpected and he had not cal
culated the cost.
mo, believe amt going fishing Mrs.
Fitzgig saw that she had made an impression.
Her military genius whispered to her to follow
it up. 1t is not enough to rout foe. The
true principle is to demolish him; to use him
completely up.
'Ah, yen only say that to deceive your poor
neglected wife; there's some mistress; that's
the fish and you want to sneak off,
Now Fitzgig looked conscience stricken.-
Like all towards, he did intend to sneak off, /
and his face betrayed him.
You are going fishing, Mr.. Fitzgig,,
said she, and crash went the mirror against the
wall.
Mrs. Fitzgig commenced dressing with ex-
traordnary despatch, tore the things, upset
the table, whirled the lamp at the picture of the
delights of welded love, which graced the
wall, and, with unwashcd face, slammed the
door, and marched down stairs, repeating the
word fishing as she passed. What hap
pened below we do not know, but the little
'nigger' was soon heard yelling, and there was ,
terrible turmoil in the kitchen. twas clear
that Mrs. Fitzgig was cooking pretty kettle
of fish, so that her dear Theophlus need not
have the trouble of goirg fishing.
Fitzgg sat on the side of the bed for an hour
like Marius on the ruins of Carthage, while the
storm ragged below. At length he sneaked
down.
Good morning. Mr.. Fitzgig; going fish
ing, MIR. Fitzgig!'
No, dearest Seraphina Serena, l amt going
fishing: | want my breakfast
No breakfast here, Mr.. FiiZgig; plot
against me, Mr.. Fitzgig. Sally and Tommy,
gone-gone a fishing, Mr.. Fiizgig. fyou
want breakfast, get it YOURSELF
The battle was over--F'itzgig, previously
broken by the breakage of the brittle ware up
stairs, had little suirt left, but to take away his
breakfast-to punch him thus IN his breadbas-
ket-was attacking him in the tenderest part.
He sued for forgiveness, anc after two hours
of solicitation, the fiery granted him pardon,
and suffered him to kiss her unwashed cheek.
Fitzgig was thus changed into "only my
husband,'' the humblest Of all humble animals. /
He fetches and carries, goes errands, Jugs band
boxes and bundles, takes up the yonug fltz-
gigs at night, when they squall, and walks up .
and down the room with them for hours, no
matter whether the weather be warm or cold !;
which is the leading duty Of ''only my hus-
band - and makes himself particularly scarce
| when any of his wife's grand friends come to
see her. He is in fact scarcely ever in pre-
sentable condition.; for Mrs. Fitzglg requires
too much money herselfto allow him to spend i
any money for clothes. He does however get.
nine-pence week for the purchase of long
mines, but very little more. Although he
shrinks and looks dutful now whenever his ,
wife is by, at first he ventured once or twice to
grumble and look sulky. These symptoms of
INSTRUMENTATION soon ended however. Mrs.
F. gave significant cut with the eye, raised
piece of fragile furniture in her hand, and whis-
pered in stern voice: .
Do you want to 60 fishing, Mr.. Fitzgig!
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