The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1861-06-20
Mr.. and Mrs. RaSEser.
BY THE AUTHOR OF MISS sLINMENS." ]"
CHAPTER VI.
DOMESTIC.

DOMESTIC.
Darn your stockings, Mr. Rasher? If
that don't cap the climax 1t would be
pretty work to occupy my mornings In
my boudoir; or no, Id better keep 'em
for paror fancy work . Of evenings,
when I've only few calls, and Flum-
mery is drumming It the piano or making
himself agreeable to Fitz. expect he'd
want to take lessons in the fashionable
and elegant art of daraing old socks, he's
so critical and fastidious. He always
holds my silk fer ne, when he's here of
mornings and I've got any to wind, and
/ presume he d be delighted to mold a
4kein of blue yarn. IF you're really not
able to buy yourself new stockings when
the OLD ones get holes in 'em, perhaps III
provide myself with darning- needle, and
stay to home and mend EN- for you, You
frequently advise me to be more econom-
zeal, and here is fair chance to begin.
do believe man, be he high er low,
Eich or poor, is never satisfied with his
wife, except when she is dSrning his socks
or making pudding. lfany one should
ask me my idea of the male sex, should
describe it as a rap2eious pUdding-bag
with pair Of worn out socks on the end
of it, while the female sex would be rep
resented as everlastingly busy trying to
ill the bag with ceaseless pudding, and
,darning the socks at Intervals. Growing
poetica ? Husband. there s that in the
treatment Of the masculine race that 5
calculated to make US indignant, if there's
a spark Of resentment in our breasts
They were such nice lambs wool,
and you thought, as [ d nothing else to
do, thsy were worth" IN othing else to
90. nothing to 9o! Hurried, and wor-
ried, and furried to death, with six ser
wants setting me distracted, and company,
and goirg out constantly. Nothing to do
but set down and darn socks Here
am, just home from the matinee, and hun
cry for my dinner, expecting half doz-
en- friends in this evening that | asked
when | was at the Academy, and engaged
for slI day Tomorrow going calling, and
out to the ball in the evening, and [ We
nothing to do
You thought it would seem SO old-fash-
Toned and pleasant to see me with my
work basket, passing quiet evening, you
talking and reading the paper, and me
darning the heels and toes OF your socks ?
Once for all, my dear, [ don't consider
anything pleasant that's old-fashioned,
and as for having been in the habit, in
former days, of econCmizing, | wish You
wouldn't refer to it it makes me nervous.
You're as sentimentsl as Cerintha, this
minute, and I'm sure a person, to look at
you, wouldn't think there was particle
ofseptiment in you, which | heartily wish
there WASH t, as it 8 always making you
ridiculous. I've got so many other balls
TO keep rolling can't eondcscend to a
ball Of yarn? Now add something about
"spinnlng street-yarn, and then you II
have run through the usual lists of a
mans wittie,sms.
What's that sticking out of your vest
pocket! Dear me! I'm delighted. Why
didn't you tell me when you first came in ?
"Artists' Receptions. Admit Mr.
Rasher. Dodworth's Hall. Thursday
Evening, February p, 1861. Geo. A.
Baker, VIM. Oliver Stone, Launt Thomp-
son, Executive Committee. Compliments
of Lake Brown"
ga and another one for me.
Admit one Lady.
Mrs. Cornell wanted to 60 awfufly last
month, but she couldn't find a gentleman
who had an invitation to spare. You may
thank me, husband, for these tickets. If
l hadn't proved myself patteron of the
line arts, by getting all these pictures