The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1867-03-15
MRS. CRUDLES CURTAIN LECTURES.
Continued from our last issue
THE FOURTEENTH LECTURE.


Won for money. l am sure, for myself, I'd
rather 90 without thing thousand times,
and | do-the more shame of you to let me,
but-there, now there you fly out again
U1af do Want nor Why, you must know
what's wanted, if you'd any eyes-or any
pride for your children like any other father.
What's the NATTER and rhdt am driDjHg At
Oh, nonsense, Caudle As if you didn't know
Pm sure if I'd any money Of my own, I'd
never ask you for a farthing; never; it's pain
full to me- goodness knows What do you
say II It's so painful, wLy so often do 1t
Ha | suppose you call that Il ioke-one of
your club Jokes wish you'd think a little
more Of peoples feelings, and less of your
Jokes. As | say, ! only wish I'd any money
of my own. If there is anything that humbles
poor woman, it is coming to mans pocket
for every farthing. It's dreadful
''Now, Caudle, if ever you kept awake, you
shall keep awake to-night-yes, you shall hear
me, for it isn't often | speak, and then you
may 60 to sleep as soon as you like. Pray,
do you know what month it is And did you
see how the children looked at church to-day
like nobody else's children. What OaS tie
matter ,rih them? o Caudlel How can you
ask? Poor things weren't they all in their
thick merinoes and beaver bonnets What do
you say-Wha ofH? What you'll tell me
that you didn't see how the Briggs girls, in
their new chips, turned their noses up at
eIul ANU you ululL see now Jle BfOWOS
looked at the Smiths, and then at our dear
girls, as much as to say, Poor creatures
what figures for the month Of May You
didn't see at The more shame for yOu-you
would, if you'd had the feelings of parent
but Pm sorry to say, Caudle, you haven't
I'm sure those Briggs girls-the little minXes
put me into such a pucker, could have
pulled their ears for 'em over the pew. What
do you say ought to be ashamed Of RySeLft to
ooCn a.? No, Mr.. Caudle; the shame lies with
you, that don't let your children appear at
church like other peoples children; that make
'em uncomfortable at their devotion, poor
things for how can it be otherwise, when
they see themselves dressed like nobody else
"NOw, Caudle, it's no use talking; those
children shall not cross the threshold next
Sunday if they haven't things for the summer.
Now mind-they shan and there's an end of
it. won't have 'em exposed to the Briggses
and the Browns again. no, they shall know
they have a mother, if they've no father to
feel for EN-. What do you say, Caudle
a good deal must think Of church. If Ithiak so
much Of wbat ooe 90 in? l only wish you
thought as much as l do, you'd be a better
man than you are, Caudle, l can tell you; but
that's nothing to do with it. Pm talking
about decent clothes for the children for the
summer, and you want to put me off with
something about the church; but that's so like
you, Caudle
'Im Arrays o0Gnting money for clothes ? How
can you lie in your bed and say that? Pm
sure there's no children in the world that cost
their father so little: but that's it; the less
poor woman does upon, the less she may. It's
the wives who don't care where the money
comes from who're best thought of. Oh, if
my time was to come over again, would |
mend and stitch, and make the things 60 so
far as | have done No-that | wouldn't
Yes, it's very well for you to lie there and
n 1anub ('an1lp--UprV
to people who don't feel
'Now, Caudle, dear What man you
are! l know you'll give me the money, be-
cause, after all, think you love your chill
dren, and like to see 'em well dressed. It's
only natural that a father should. En- eau
die, eh Now you sha'n't go to sleep till
you've told me. HoaO much money do l a0aRt
Why, let me see, love. There's Caroline, and
Jane and Susannah, and Mary Anne, and
What do you say? needn't count 'om, you
kno,c hor many there are? Ha that's just as
you take me up. Well, how much money
will it take? Let me see and don't go to
sleep. I'll tell you in a minute. You always
love to see the dear things like new pins, |
know that, Caudle; and though | say it-bless
their little hearts they do credit to you,
Caudle Any nobleman Of the land might be
proud of 'em. Now don't swear at noblemen
AOf the land, and ask me what they've to do
Pwith your children; you know what meant.
But you are so nasty, Caudle.
''H0ac much Now, don't be in a hurry
Well, think with good pinching-and you
know, Caudle, there's never wife who can
pinch closer than can-l think, with pinch
ing, can do with twenty pounds. What did
you say? IUenty fddieSticES? ? What IOu
soOn't give half the money? Very well, Mr..
! Caudle; | don't care: let the children go III
rags; let them stop from church, and grow
up like heathens and cannibals and then
you'll save your money, and, | suppose, be
satisfied. You gaze me hCeHty ponds tice months
ago! What five months ago to do with now
Besides what | hare had is nothing to dc
with it.
''What do you say? Ten pounds are enough
Yes just like you men; you think things cost
nothing for women; but you don't cave how
much you lay out upon yourselves. They only
lCdnt bOnnetS and trOckS How do you know
what they want? HolU should a man know
any thing at all about it! And you won't
give more than ten pounds Very well. Then
you may go shopping with it yourself, and see
what you'll make OF it, I'll have none of youl
ten pounds, | can tell you. No, sir-no; you
have no cause to say that. / don't pdHt TO dress
The children ND like coViteSScS! You often fling
that in my teeth, you do: but you know its
false. Caudle; you know it. | only want tC
give 'em proper notions Of themselves anC
what. indeed, can the poor things think whel
they see the Briggses and the Browns
and the Smiths - and their fathers dom
make the money you do, Caudle whel
they see them as fine as tulips why, they
must think themselves nobody; and to thhI
yourself nobody, depend upon it, Caudle,-
isn't the way to make the world THINK any
thing OF you.
Where do you think | know great dea
,,ora +ban Won sunnose yes: though yOl