The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1864-02-10
Husbands and Wives.

Husbands and Wives.
1t was the freshest Of AIril MORNINGS,
with soft wind, that had rlfed all manner
of sweet scents from dimped hOllows, pur-
pied over with young violcts, and solitary
brooksdcs, f,ingcd with white anemcne
stars, and waited them into the city streets,
to revive many wearied dweller among
paving stones. Mrs. Arden, standing at her
window, looked down at the few feet of
earth that city people distinguish with the
tile of 'garlcn,' and felt the sunny spring
influences even there.
Nv hat lovely morning!" said she to
herself; this is the very time to put my
dahlias into the ground, and take care OF
the roses-how fortunate that to day will
be comparatively leisure time to me! Wo-
men don't often get released from the do
nestle tread mill, and what with spring
sewing, company and house cleaning, |
have been literally slave for. the last three
months. Once out in open air, among the
flower roots, and shall feel as though |
was entering new life ~
Ignorant Mrs. Arden! Has she lived to
be thirty years old without knowing that a
married woman ought not even to breathe
without first asking her husband if it was
proper and convenient? Mr.. Arden had
laid out an entirely different programme for
his ady-wife; and in he came, discomfort
edly e, eing the new overcoat he had been
buying.
Nellie, can't you fix this overcoat some
how? There is something hitchy about
the collar-you can tell where the trouble
is, you are so smart with your needle ~
Mrs. Arden took it out of his hands, and
looked at it desperately was full
three hours work about it,
And Nelie-if you wouldn't mind al
tering these shirt bosoms-they' all in a
wrinklc-the pattern was bad one"
"1ou insisted on having them made ac-
cording to the very pattern, entirely against
my advice"
"Wcll, know did," said Mr.. Arden,
rather sheepishly Martin said it was "a
good one, but Martin don't know every
thing"
81 " sh you had found that out before
the shirts were made," said Mrs. Arden
petulantly.
81 say interposcd her spouse, appar.
antly tner deslrous of changing the sub
ject, what are yoa going to have for din.
ner 2"
Il doh't know, I'm sure" was the vexed
reply. IL believe men are always thinking
about eating-no sooner is breakfast over
than dinner begins to trouble them"
"I wish you would make one Of those
puddings like make it Yourself for Su.
san always manges it. We havn't had
one for long time now"
There goes my day of leisure that was
t. have put my garden in such beautiful
order sighed Mrs. Arden.
80, pshaw!" said her husband contem
plating his whiskers in glass, what do
you care about garden work A woman
ough. to find her chief happiness in do.
mestic duties. | don't approve of this
everlasting fidgeting about flowers ~
Harry" said his wife, "yuu would not
be at all contented if your office work was
so endless tha. you never got moments
time to smoke cigar, or read book or a
newspaper ''
':No-no,' replied Mr.. Arden, hcsita,ing
ly, but then you are not tran"
mol know am not" said Mrs. Ar
den. quickly, ''if were, my wife- should
have little leisure to breathe occasionally. )"
Mr.. Arden went out, shutting the door
1
did See such complaining set as women
| are" was his internal r, Election as he walk
ed rapidly down the street.
Two or three hours steady work soon
disposed of the press of office business
awaiting him, and he threw himself back
in chair to rest and look over his news.
paper. But the balmy wind famed his
forehead like narcotic incense, and the SEN
sation Of dolce far niente was incXpressibly
delightful-the closely printed columns be-
came confused blurr, and the first Mr..
Arden knew, he was-nOt exactly asleep,
perhaps, but certainly not very wide awake
Something carried him back to the time
when Nellie had been bride fresh and
blooming as a rose How well no rcmem
bered the blue light of her eyes, and the
had grown wan and weary looking since
those days. -@' *7:..
Was il possible that he had been lacking
in care and tenderness 1t was rather an
uneasy twinge of conscience, for he did
loved her, ratified Drained and thoughtless
though he was. He thought of her, sitting
alone through the glorious April day, bend
ing over the work he had assigned to her,
until the paloor dcepencd on her cheek, and
the eyes grew dim and lustreless-he re-
membered the many, many days she had
spent ia the same wearisome occupation
No wonder that the little garden was a sun
ny spot to her no wonder that she loved
the flowers, whose freshness seemed to re-
vive her whole nature. A man may be
| very cruel to a woman without even beat
ing her, or denying her the necessities of
life. Suppose she should drift away from
him, like delicate leaf upon swift run
ming stream He shuddered at the very
idea. She was not strong-the time might
| come when narrow grave and white head
stones would be all that had remained of
his little wife And then-should he not
remember all these things?
He started up from the troubled net WORK
Of fancy that had woven itself into vague
dream; the sunshine lay brightly on the
floor, and the hand Of the office clock