The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1868-08-05
yyILLIE'S WIFE.


WILLIE'S WIFE.
A clustering EVENING" I am all
alone. An old maid, with no hus-
band to destroy her peace, nor any
dreadful anoyances in the shape of
children, with money enough at
interest to keep the wolf from the
door, and house of her own over
head, might surely expect, after the
tea things were washed and put
away, the fire made, the table drawn
close to it, the lamp close to her
elbow, and book close to her nose
an old maid thus happily situated
might, I say, in all reason, expect O.
comfortable time. Alas! far from it,!
The wind whistles around the house
with more than ordinary defiance,
and 1 tremble inwardly; for we'll do
1 know, and we'll does it know, also,
the cracks and holes in my dilapidat-
ed dwelling. Here it comes whis-
Ting and roaring! With whisk it
turns my new wig askew; with
another, the leaves of my book are
f1uttering and Tapping, as if they
were in league with the boisterous
thing. I adjust my wig and refind
my place in vain. There it comes,
again and again. A rough blast
down the chimney sends the smoke
pouring into the room, scattering
shower of ashes over my clean white
curtains.
I slam my book with petulant
Jerk, take up my lamp and start ON
an indignant march up to bed.
Creak, creak go the boards, as if they
were possessed. The door refuses
e to open; I jerk and pull spasmodical-
ly; another blast of wind; my lamp
goes out; still I tug at the door; it
opens suddenly, and down I go.
Miss Jemima Bloor picks herself up,
minus dignity, temper all wig. I
grope my way upstairs, stepping
angrily on certain shaking steps, and
running splinter into my hand
from the broken banister. I reach
my room at last; must leave the door
open because the lock is out of order;
undress, creep into bed, and cannot
close my eyes, because there is q
loose piece of plaster gaping just
; above my head-more terrible to me
than the sword of Damocles.
During the long hours of that
sleepless night, 1 worked myself up
to desperate resolution. The case,
you see, was grave and urgent. T
ran imminent risk of losing that
bland, amiable disposition which las
L know from the concurrent testi-
mony of my most discriminating
friends) is natural to me. The house
shall be thoroughly repaired! Not
another night will l sleep in it till it
lis! ~ i, !
I arose at peep of day, and noon
found me dome esticated at Mrs.
Robinson's, just over the way. I am
to sleep on the lounge in her parlor,
for the little woman possesses only
two rooms and kitchen.
I Immediately assembled all the
carpenters, GLACIERS, timers, brick
layers, painters and paper-hangers
with whom our village is blessed.
My house is being repaired and
renewed outside and in.r contem-
plate the changes thus going on with
well, let the truth be told-with
somewhat mixed emotions. I am
slowly coming to the conclusion that
there is no such thing as perfect
happiness in this sublunary sphere.
Men are SO intensely aggravating,
especially carpenters, GLACIERS, tin
ners, brick-layers, painters and pa
per-hangers.
One afternoon we sat--my hostess
and LIN her little parlor; L at the
front window, looking across the
street ana watching that rascally
John Stocker, the carpenter. Good
heavens! There he sat in my besI
room window, swinging his heels
and smoking q pipe-not a thought
of my work in his headl Now, the
odious creature knows-no one bet