Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1866-06-30
SOBER SECOND THOUGHT.

must have 1t, Charles" said the
handsome little wife of Mr.. Whitman.
" So don't put on that sober face"
"Did [ put on a sober face ?" asked
the husband, with an attempt to smile
that was anything but a successful ef-
fort.
Yes, sober as a man on trial for his
life. Why its as long as the moral law.
There, dear, clear it up, and look as if
you had at least one friend in the world
What money-lovers you men are"
Chow much will it cost ?" inquired
Mr.. Whitman. There was another eff
fort to look cheerful and acquiescent.
"About forty dollars" was answered
with just little faltering in the lady's
voice, for she knew the sum would sound
extravagant.
"Forty dollars Why Ada, do you
think l am made of money ?" Mr..
Whitman's countenance underwent a
most remarkable change of expression.
81 declare, Charles" said his wife, a
little impatiently, "you look at Inc as if
| were an object of fear instead of af-
fection. 1 don't think this kind of you.
I've only had three silk dresses since
we were married, while Amy Bright
has had six or seven during the same
period, and every one of them has cost
more than mine. know you think me
extravagant, but wish you had wife
like some women | could name. | rath.
er think you'd find out the difference
before long.
"There, there, pet, don't talk to me
after this fashion I'll bring you the
money at dinner time, that is, if"
"No ifs nor butts, if you please. The
sentence is complete without them
Thank you, dear ! I'll go this afternoon
and buy the silk | was in at Silkskin s
yesterday, and saw one of the sweetest
patterns ever laid my eyes on. Just
suits my style and complexion. [ shall
be inconsolable if it is gore. You won't
disappoint me? p
And Mrs. Whitman laid her soft
white hand on the arm of her husband
and smiled with sweet persuasion in hel
face.
go, no. You shall have the money"
said Mr.. Whitman, turning off from his
wife, as she thought, a little abruptly,
and hurrying from her presence. In
his precipitation he had forgotten the
usual parting kiss.
"That's the way it is always!" said
Mrs. Whitman, her whole manner
changing as the sound of the closing
street door came jarring upon her ears.
"Just say money to Charles, and at once
there is cloud in the sky"
She sat down, pouting and half angry.
"Forty dollars for new dress !" men,
tally calculated the husband of vain,
pretty, and thoughtless Mrs. Whitman,
as he shut the door after him. 81
promised to settle the coal bill to-day
thirty-three dollars-but don't know
where the money is to come from. The
coal is burnt up: and more must be Or
dered. o, dearl I'm discouraged
Every year | fall behind. This winter
l did hope to get little in advance,
but if forty-dollar silk dresses are to be
the order of the day there's an end to
that devoutly to be wished for circum-
stance. Debt-debt How l have al
ways shrunk from it; but steadily, now.
it is closing its Briarean arms around
me, and my constructing chest labors in
respiration Oh, if could but olsen
tangle myself now, while 1 have the
strength of early manhood, and the
the bonds that hold me are weak. If
Ada could see as l see-if | could only
make her understand rightly my posi-
ton. Alas that is hopeless, l fear"
And Mr.. Whitman hurried his steps,
because his heart beat quicker snd his
thoughts were unduly excited.
Not long time after Mr.. Whitman
left home, the city postmaster delivered
letter to his address. His wife exam
ined the writing on the envelope, which
was in bold masculine hand, and said
to herself as she did So
Il wonder who this can be from 2"
Something more than curiosity moved
her. There intruded on her mind "a
vague feeling of disquiet, as if the mis-