Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1859-06-15

should have marked how Mrs. Stagg an
shake. He raised the deuce, ana broke tnlngS
all round generally with the best OF intentions.
Mary being sick, and John on visit to MS
Aunt Betsy, ,Stagg undertook the management
of household affairs ssfor one day oniy," MIS-.
Stagg at his heels all the time, lest he should
tumble the house over, and set it on fire..
In his hurry, he poked the crate with the
handle of the shovel, threw the ashes into the
yard instead of the barrel, and finging it a.
gainst the wind nearly put out Mrs. Stages
eyes as we'll as his own. He drove nail with
the bottom of porcelain vace, and left the
atoms to tell the tale. He wiped his razor on
the most interesting leaf in her album--poetry
written by former love er-she vowed it was
intentional. Thinking, at one time that she
approached too near, ,rith her feet, he started
back, and fell into q looking glass which
reached from floor to ceiling, causing multi
plication of his beautiful image, anything but
satisfactory to either of them.
ssGracious n-Philemon-stop! Now
you have done your days work-a good many
hard day IS work ,in half day Now do stop !"
ssPity, Laura, but can't be-"
Helped, he was going to say, just as he was
helping himself to glass of wine, to steady
his nerves but of course he dropped the de-
canter full of port, upon the carpet, a magnifi-
cent Brussels with white ground, and it was
ruined forever.
This dampened his ardor in the cause of
housework, and he desisted for the day, both
nough.
But justice must be done to Mr.. Stages dis
position Sad accidents did not ruffle his
temper, even when others were at fault, and
the seedlings of his wife made no impression
upon him of an unfavorable nature. He sin
cerely mourned over his elephantine motions,
and had charity for others. And amid all his
Asro n hot for fnrf nj nf
probation, to Mrs. Stages regret, there was
one blunder he did not make-he did not step
on her feet.
$50 suppose have lost my shawl, after
all,'' she said, pettishly, at the end of two
weeks.
ssI wish 1 hadn't made the promise,'' he re-
piled, ssfor it was that which caused me to
make half the blunders 1 have committed.
My mind, my dear, was continually running
on your feet. Singular anomaly. Though
your feet were present, my mind was always
absent"
esIt is nothing to joke about. 1t is your
huge hoofs which are to blame, not my feet
ah! OPP
Philemon Stagg had trodden upon her feet
once more
"Great powers have begun again Win
never stop treading on your feet I'll get a
rope and hang myself. I'll get platoon of
soldiers to charge bayonets upon melt ought
to be the ssawkward squad" too. o, my dear,
poor wife-take care Of your feet-you are a
martyr to my clumsiness, "a"
ssDon't you say toe-martyr!" interrupted
she, quickly and fiercely, sudden idea oc-
curing that he was making fun of her; 60,
you unfeeling creature, only wish the world
knew of my sufferings with you. You tram
pie upon me all the time-there's no end to it..
I wish J. could get divorce. I wish you
thought bali much of my feet, as you do
about 'anew shawl Awkward i wish was
born without feet
81 wish had been, 1 solemnly declare 20
exclaimed Mr.. Stagg, in outburst of des-
peration. ssI'd have 'em sawed off now, if it
would end my misery. But suppose should
be treading on you with my stumps!''
Bad as she felt, hugging her foot, Mrs.
Stagg could not control her laughter at this
last remark, her husbands evident sincerity
and larchrymose look, exciting her mirth the
more. She laughed long and loud, and finally
he joined her and the next day she had more
reason to laugh for she got the shawl; kind
ness which has ever since SO impressed Mrs.
Stagg, that she takes care of her feet herself.