Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1858-09-16
Mrs. Shows Literary Husband.

Yes, I'm Mrs. Snow, an editors wife.
we'll remember that day when Mr.. Snow
asked me to be his wife. confess, liked
Mr.. SRow, and thinking it would be very
fine thing to be the wife of an editor, | sal d
yes as pretty as knew how; and | be-
came Mrs. Snow. | have seen ten years
of married life, and find my husband to be
an amiable. good natured man. He always
spends his evenings at home, and is, in that
respect, very model, but he always brings
with him pile of exchanges. which are
limited only by the length Of his arms and
reads while patch the knees and elbows of
our boys coats and pantaloons. After we
have had quaker meeting of an hours
length. would break the silence by asking;
MIR. Snow, did you order that coal l spoke
off"
"What did you say, my dear!" he asks
after moments silence.
did you order that coal l spoke to you
about"
"Indeed, my dear, am very sorry, but
forgot all about it. 1t shall come TO NOR
row."
Another hours silence, which is relieved
by the baby's crying, and rather liking to
hear noise of some sort make no effort
to quiet him.
My deur," said Mr.. Snow, after he cried
a minute or So, "had'nt you better give the
baby some catnip tea to quiet him! he
troubles me-"
The, baby is still, and another hour pas
ses away without breath Of noise. Be-
coming tired of silence, take lamp and
retire tor the night, leaving Mr.. S. so en-
gagged with his papers that he did not see
me leave the room.
Towards midnight he comes to bed, and
just as he has fallen asleep the baby takes
notion to cry again. Irise as quietly as
possible, and try to still him. While | am
walking the ICON with the small Snow in
my arms, our nexi--a boy of three years
begins to scream at the top of his lungs
What can do! There is no other course
but to Call Mr.. Snow; SO | call out: sMr.
Snow! Mr.. Snow?"
The second time he starts up and replies:
"What, Tom-more copyl"
As though was Tom-that little devil
running about his Office! | reply rather
cool, ,"No, | don't want more copy I've had
enough of that to last my lifetime; l want
you to see what Fate is crying SO about"
Mr.. Snow makes desperate effJrt to
rouse himself; as Fate stops to take breath
he falls to sleep again, leaving me pacing
the room IN as much vexation as can COM
fortably contain.
The next morning at breakfast when /
give Mr.. Snow an account of last nights
adventure, he replies, "Indeed my dear, am
sorry the children troubled you.''
This is always the way. Ii ] Complain,
it is, "indeed, my dear / an sorry" but
should the very same thing occur the sub
sequent night, directly before his eyes, very
likely he would not see or know anything
about it unless 1t happened to interrupt his
ideas. Then he would propose catnip tea,
but before can get it into the infants
stomach, he will be far away in the realms
of thought, leaving me not little yexet at
his apparent stupidity.
MIR. Snow knows the name of every pa
per published in England, France and Ger
many, but he can't for the life of him tell
the names of his children He knows Just
the age Of every American journal, but ho
does hot know the age Of his own baby
He knows just how each of his contributors
looks, but don't believe he can tell whcth
er my eyes are black or b'ue.
The world says Mr.. Snow is getting rich;
all know about it is he gives me money to
clothe and feed our boys, and that too with
out complaint. hope the world 10 right
in opinion, and when | am fully satisfied
that it is, | shall advise him to resign his
editorial honors and spend few months in
becoming acquainted with his wife and
children. Tue little ones will feel much
fl lttered in making the acquaintance of SO
literary gentlemen.