The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-03-11
WESTERLY, R. l., MARCH IL, 1852.

clock it wants five minutes of two."
So The clock is too Slow" growled Mr.
: Carwell.
"Tho clock is too Slow" repeated Laura
in louder key. "Why don't you see to
such matters, Jane? Set the pointers
along five minutes, and be sure you never
keep the dinner waiting again"
Mr.. Carwcll cast a furtive glance at his
wife. Having always been accustomed to
have his wife apologize whenever he found
fault, and endeavor to excuse the servants,
he hardly knew what to make of the change
However, he said nothing, but led the way
to the dining-room in silence.
Jane was left in charge of the baby, and
Susan, the cook, attended to the table.
"Soup ~ said Mr.. Carwell, Heavens !;
it is hot as fire, Soup should never be
put on the table in such state"
"No," added Laura, sharply. "Do you
mean to scald people, Susan ? never put
fire on the table again"
" Tasteless stuff, too ~ muttered Mr..
Carwell, daintily touching the spoon to his
lips.
Insipid !" cried Laura, impaticntly,
"What sort of mess do you call this,
Susan 1t tastes more like the broth of
stcwcd leather"
Mr. Carwell could not help smiling at
the conceit, but at the sight Of Laura's
long face, his countenance changed imme-
diately.
| care you i'll, to-day % he asked.
"Ill? no ~ replied Laura.
"What is the matter, then 20
! "Nothing-only things don't 60 exactl,
to suit me-"
f These being the precise words George
had hundreds of times used in answer t.
similar inquiries from his wife, he pausec
with the spoon midway between his moutl
and the plate, and looked her full in th'
, face in great surprise.
"What does not suit you - he asked
"Why, the same thing that does no.
suit you, L suppose-the soup"
"The soup is not very bad, after all
it only requires little salt.''
Mr.. Carwell's humor seemed to improve
until he had occasion to apply the carving
knife to the roast beef when his counten-
ance again changed.
"Donc to a crisp" he exclaimed, "and
Susan knows I like my beef rare. My
dinner is entirely spoilt."
Susan ~ cried Laura, "why don't
you burn the meat to a cinder and done
with it! You might as well put coal on
the table 1 never"
"Ah," interrupted George, in pleas
ant tone, " it is not so bad as l expected,
it is rare-come to get into it,"
$50 it is" said Louisa, smiling.
George seemed for moment diverted
from his annoying habit, but presently he
exclaimed peevishly:
"What wrctched potatoes they are not
fit to eat | never saw such water-soaked
things before. What is the reason we
can't have potatoes cooked better -
"Sure enough, why can't we :" said
Mrs. Carwell. "Why do you put such
heavy balls on the table, Susan' They
are watery as melons. If you do not know
how to boil potatoes properly"
" MY DEAR" interrupted George, c. am
inclined to think it is not in the cooking.
The potatoes were not good in the first
place"
"Why were they bought then :" de-
manded Laura. We might as well
invest money in poison parsnips. Potatoes
that are not fit to eat are worse than none
at all. Here, Susan, take them away"
"But, my DEAR" cried George, in a
tone remarkably pleasant; "now here is
one that is quite mealy indeed"
" l can't see any difference in thom,"
observed Laura in significant tone.
George colored very red and found no
moro fault until the apple pudding was
brought in.
" 1t is spoilt," said he, throwing himselfI
back in his chair. "The crust is heavy
as lead"
Z" Heavy ~ echoed Laura, d" it is like SO
much grating wax-tough and indigestiblc
as q saddle. Who 10 you think is going