The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1875-06-03

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his senses; and felt fully assured that
her husband had suddenly become a raw
ing maniac. Finally he finished by
throwing the butterfly pen-wiper on the
top of the pyre, and falling into chair
weeping.
Then little Mrs. Rogers came out of
her corner, and with both arms about his
neck besought him to tell her what allied
him.
"Seven hundred and seventy-sevenl
Capital prizer' said Mr.. Rogers. I've
drawn it, Esmerelda."
Esmerelda rushed for the paper. found
the list OF prizes, read the announce
ment, and sat down, gasping for breath.
"That's why you burnt the copy
books" said she. But, oh, why need
you have burned my pen-wiper? 1t was
so pretty, l thought you'd care for it.
declare / could save it. I believe it's
only scorched."
But Mr.. Rogers was not quite himself
Hang pens, pen-hanGles and pen
wipers," he said, and jammed his boot-heel
into the Goals. "Tu never touch one
again. Airs. Rogers felt hurt, but still
she made allowance for her husband;
and the fact of The prize was just begin
ming to dawn upon her.
"Are you sure?n said she. "Oh, do
show me the ticket! Perhaps you've
made mistake. Seven hundred and
Oh, dear, can't find it,"
"I'll show you," said Mr.. Rogers, wip-
ing his forehead. "Here. Esmerelda.n
He walked into the little bedroom and
knelt down by the trunk. He felt down
to the bottom. He felt at the sides. He
tossed things out. He glared wildly.
ats here" he said. 81 know it's
here butt can't find it.'
"Ohl Rogers" cried his wife, "what
was it like? Tell mel"
Yellow-square- - dirty, Esmerelda;
you haven't done anything with it?"
EsmereIda gave a shrek. She few
toward the CRATE.
"The pen-wiper - save iti' she
screamed.
Hang the pen-wiperw cried Mr.. Rog-
ers, and he iammed his heel into the
Goals once more, and the flames burst
hot and red over the half-burnt butter
ay, and consumed it in an instant.
Can't you think of anything else but
that confounded pen-wiper? The ticket!
look for it, Esmerelda"
Its in the butterfly. How did
know? You never told me! | thought
it was an old card" said Esmerelda
"Oh, why didn't you save it?"
ain the butterfly What butterfly"
cried Mr.. Rogers, staring about him.
"Butterfy pen-wiper!' cried Mrs. r.,
and tainted away in the corner.
1t happened to be a Saturday. The
school had holiday. All day long the
master sat and stared at the fire. All
the day long his wife wept and bemoaned
herself. He took no pity on her. He
said:
81 hate you, and never can forgive
your And she thought of suicide.
They had no dinner. AT night she
made tea, and they drank it with averted
faces. Then she crept away to her little
spare bedroom upstairs, leaving him by
the fire
The church bells rang sweetly, but
neither of that wretched pair went to
church. 1t never could be forgotten,
that miserable Sunday, by either of
them; and, worst of ALL Monday morning
was coming, and the school-boys and the
work of the day. About dusk Mr.. Rog-
ers bethought him to walk out. Gen
orally they walked out together. Now
Mrs. Rogers sat and heard the voices of
the holiday making people in the street,
and felt, as she said to herself, as though
she were divorced. When Mr.. Rogers
returned hie tea vu "a stand, and Ee-
merelda was shut up in the spare bed
room again.
Both arose next morning unrefreshed
and miserable She felt like criminal;
he as the very vengeful ghost of a foully-
murdered man might be supposed to
feel. He asked himself aloud number
of singular questions.
As: "Why do men marry idiots who
make pen-wipers of $10000?'
why don't she poison me? better
than beggar me-" ne said, still to him
self, still aloud, but she shall suffer for
this"
And then Mrs. Rogers wept till her
poor eyes bulged out of her head. There
was big swollen vein down the middle
of her forehead. She was the most
wretched of little women.
AS he slipped his coffee and she cried
the morning paper flew into the window,
which stood open. 1t was the carriers
way of saving time.
1t fell at Mr. Rogers feet. He took
it up and opened it with a bitter remem
brance of his last opening the paper.
And these were the first words that met
his eyes:
Special Announcement-The managers of
the Eagle Lottery desire to rectify a grave
mistake in Saturdays report No. ~ did not
draw the capital prize. 1t was drawn by No
rs. The fault was the printers.
Hang the printerl' cried Mr.. Rogers.
"Esmereldan
"Ohw said Esmerelda.
81 forgive you, my dear" said Mr..
Rogers. I'll never say another word
about it, never"
"Oh, how noble" sobbed Mrs. Rogers
Then Mr.. Rogers went to his school
boys and his copies, and the boy who
had come to F had Fool, folly. foolish,
Idiot, idiots, idiot. idiots" after his
masters pattern all the writing hour.