The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1858-08-10
Mrs. snow. Literary Husband.

Mrs. Shows Literary Husband.
Yes I'm Mrs. Peter Snow, an editors
wife, i well remember the day when Mr..
Snow asked me to become his. confess
like Mr.. Snow, and thinking it would
be very fine thing to be the wife # an
editor, sad "yes' as pretty as ! knew
how, and / became Mrs. Snow. ] have
seen ten years of married life, and find nv
husband to be an amiablc, good natured
man. lie always spends his evenings at
home, and is in that respect model man;
but he always brings pile of exchanges
which is limited only by tho length Of his
arms, and reads, while l patch tho knees
and elbows of our boys pataloons and coat.
After we have had Quaker meeting Of an
hours length, break the silence by asking,
"Mr. Snow, did you order that coal l
spoke to you aboutl" o
"Wbat did you say, my DEAR, he asks,
after few minutes silence.
did you order that coal, spoke to
you about" -
Indeed, my dear, I'm sorry, but for
got all about it. 1t shall como tomorrow"
Another hours silence which is relieved
iby the baby crying; and rather liking to
hear noise of some sort, made no effort
to quiet him.
"My dear" said Mr.. s., after ho cried
minute or SO, "hadn't you better give tho
baby some catnip tea to quiet it. He
troubles mo-"
The baby is still, another hour passes
without breath Of noise. Becoming tired
OF silence. take lamp and retire for tho
night, leaving Mr.. s. so engaged in his pa
pcis that he does not sec me leave the
room.
Towards midnight he comes to bed, and
Just as he has fallen TO sleep, the baby
takes notion to cry again. / rise as
quickly as possible, and t,y to still him.
While am welking the room with the
small Snow in my arms, our ncxt-a boy
OF three years-bcgins to scream Mt tho
top of his lungs. What can | do There
Is no other course but to call Mr.. s., so |
called out:
"Mr. Snow! Mr. Snowp'
Tho third time he starts up and replies:
"What, Tim, moro copy?"
AS though l was Tim, that little INN
running about his Office. / replied, rather
tartily.
"No don't want any more copy-Tve
had enough to lat mo my life time. I
want you to SEQ what Tommy is crying a.
bout"
Mr. Snow makes desperate effort to
rouse himself, as Tommy stops to take
breath, he falls asleep again. leaving me
pacing the room in rs much vcxation as l
can comfortably contain.
The next morning at breakfast, whom l
gave Mr.. Snow an account of his last
nights adventure, he replies:
"Indeed my dear, am sorry the chill
dren trouble you"
That is always the way. III complain
it is "indeed my dear, am very sorry"
But should the very same thing occur
the subsequent night, directly before his
eyes, very likely he would not see or know
anything about it unless it happened 10
interrupt the train Of his ideas. Then he
would propose catnip tea; but before I can
get it into tho infants stomach, he will be
far away in tho realms of thought, leaving
me not little vexed at his apparent stu
pidity.
M. Snow knows tho natnrc of every
paper published in England and the Uni
ted States, but he can't for tho life of him
tell tho names of his chill rem. He knows
just the ago of every American Journal,
but he does not know the ago OF his own
baby. He knows how every contributor
looks, but don't believe he can tell
whether my eyes arc black or blue.
Tho world says Mr. Snow is getting
rich. All know is, he gives me money
to cloth and feed our boys, and that too,
without complaint Of poverty. hope
the world is right in opinion, and when 1
an fully satisfied that it is, I shall advise
him to resign his editorial honors, and
spend few months in becoming acquain-
ted with his wife and children. The little
oncs will feel much fattered at making
the acquaintance of so literary gentle
man.