The Iowa plain dealer. [volume] (New Oregon, Howard County, Iowa) 1867-1895, 1872-06-14
TOO LITE.
BY AMY RANDOLPH.

IOO l. he.
BY AMY RANDOLPH.
"If could only have few flowers
in the window, and a new carpet fo1
the best room foor," sighed Laura
Dymond.
A soft-voiced, fragile looking little
creature, with big troubled eyes, like a
fawn, and long lashes that almost
touched her cheek when she looked
downward, there was something about
the delicate woman that reminded one
Of a hot house blossom. She should
have been tenderly nurtured, and shell
tered as it were from the rude winds of
heaven; but we do not all settle into
our proper inches in this world. In the
the next, Heaven grant that it may be
different with some of us.
"Flowers!' echoed Hugh Dymond
contemptuous. :"And now carpet!
Fiddle-de-dee! Lolly, what can you p s.
sibly be thinking OF, W hen we need wing
to the barn and new yoke of steers SO
much? But women are always going
off on tangent altar the ornamen-
tal!''
Mrs. Dymond looked around the
bare-walled room, with it's floor covered
with worn ragcarpet, it's stiff backed
chairs and its pinetab.e, and sighed.
DR.. Dvmond went on with his occupa-
tion-that of whiting out a wooden
pin for the door-yard gate.
"Well," he said nonchalantly, "what
are you groaning about:'
II wasn't groaning; only, Hugh
"Well."
II should so like to have some few
pretty things about me!!''
"Fu-u-udge." grumbled the hus-
band. "As if this was a world of cut
side show!"
"Oh, | don't mean that; but after
all, You know, we none of us have but
a few years to live, and"
"Now como, come!' interrupted the
husband, "'don't let's have any Of this
nonsense!"
Il don't think you quite understand
me, Hugh dear. What I mean is
Eyes. do too; what you mean is,
that you'd like to sit with your hands
folded, bouquet opposite, and fine
velvet carpet under your feet. Pity
you hadn't married rich man."
Little Laura Dymond WINGED slight
ly: but she was used to these sharp
words and singing retorts on her hus-
bands part. 1t was the diamond mat
ed with the rough fint-the slender
stemmed anemone springing up beneath
the shadow of the rude Canada thistle.
She told herself, many times a day,
that she did not mind Hugh's way
she was used to it; but the falsehood
was fresh every time; she did mind his
rough way, and she never could get
used to some Of those sharp, sudden
words and looks:
She had been a district-school teacher
when Hugh Dymond married her, and
all the idea she had of the existence Of
farmers wife, was roses clustering
round a picturesque porch, strawberries
and cream, cool dairy with green light
coming through the vine leaves at the
easement, and whip-poor-wills singing
OH the edge of the woods at night!
Poor Laura! it might have been silly
delusion, but it was a brief one. To
use Mr.. Dymond's own emphatic ex.
preston. "There wasn't any nonsense
about him. Good pork and potatoes,
and plenty Of 'em; shingled roof over.
head, and furniture that was good ell
nough for his mother before him: if a
woman wanted more than these, she
must go somewhere else than to the
Dymond farm house!"
Yes, it was all very solid and sub
stantial, but Laura could no more
thrive OH it than humming-bird on a
diet of beef tea!
II could draw my own fifty dollars
out Of the savings bank" said she
doubtfully, "and get a fresh pretty car.
pet. And oh, Hugh, I'm SO tired o.
the worn spots in the striped rag carpet
and we really do need it in the sitting
ROOM"
"Bother!" responded the unceremo.
NOUS husband. "Keep your fifty dol
lars for something that's going to b.
really useful. A clean board floor, anG
plenty Of soap and sand; that was al