Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1875-07-30

week. Folks used to wonder how | got
so many clothes with it after I'd paid my
board. But I always had that six dollars
laid out long before pay-day--in my mind,
you know-so that / spent it to the best
advantage. There's great deal of pleas
ure in that''
"a great deal" says she.
"That's what I say to jim; and then
he says his is all spent before payday, too
but with difference, you know. I
suppose you've got real, good, steady
husband %
40 yes, indeed" says she, laughing
some more.
"You must, to have such nice house
as that is going to be. But therel I
shouldn't know what to do with it, and l
don't envy you bit" - as
e Oh, you Needn't says she. a-twitch-
ing her shoulder; II expect to have
trouble enough with it."
Mot says L" | don't mean that jim
isn't steady. He's as steady as clock
at that old fiddle of his. But sometimes
do wish he loved his regular trade as
we'll, or else that that qods his trade. But
| suppose if fiddling was his trade he'd
want to be wood-carving all the time.''
w lily OOa YOU DDCdh w Illlii 0esf
she, seriously"
Well, you can't" says |. He's SO
sweet and good natured and pleasant that
when I've got my mind all made up to
give him sound talking to he makes me
like him so, and sets me to laughing, and
plays such a twirling, twittering tune that
can't do it to save my life"
You see I'd got to talking rather free
with her because she listened SO, and
seemed interested, and kept looking at
me in a wondering way, and at last took
Sue upon her lap and gave her her rings
to play with. Such rings! My gracious!
One of them flashed with stones all round,
just like the Milky Way. / should think
it would have shone through her glove.
"But," says she, "you should tell him
that his children will be growing up pres
emily, and
ooh, I do that" says I. "And he
says, we'll, he'll do for the bad example
they're to take warning by; and, at any
rate, it's no use worrying before the time
comes, and when they do grow up they
can take care of themselves just the way
we do"
"And are you contented TO leave it SOP"
says she.
"Well, I'm contented enough. That is,
in general. But do wish sometimes that
Jim would go down to his work regular
every day with his tin pail in his hand
like other men and come back at night
and have good round sum of money in
hand at once, instead Of just working long
enough to get some flour and fish and
pork and potatoes and sugar, and then not
so much as lifting his finger again till that
all gives out; it's such a hand-to-mouth
way of living" says l. "And of course
we can't get things together, such as a
chair and sofa and a good sized
looking glass and an eight-day clock.
Not that [ care much; only when a lady
like you happens in I'd like to give her
seat that's softer And there's bureau.
Now you wouldn't believe it, but I've
never owned a bureau"
"Indeed," says she.
eyes. [ don't think it's good manners
to be always apologizing about the looks
of a place; and SO I don't say anything
about all the boxes and bundles | have to
keep my things in, that do give a littery
look; but am always meaning to have
bureau to put them in if can compass it
ever. You see it's hard getting so much
money in a pile; and if do happen to,
why, then there's something I must have,
like Jim's boots, or flannel and yarn and
cloth, or little bed-because you can't
sleep with moresthan two children in one
bed. And so, somehow, never get the
bureau But then I don't give it up. Oh,
[ suppose you think my notions are dread
full extravaganza" says |, for she was look
ing at me perfectly amazed; really, just as
if I was little monster and she'd never
seen the like. "And perhaps they are,
but people must have something to ambi-
ton them, and it seems to me as though
if I ever could get a bureau | should
most feel as if I'd got a housew
"Well, declare!' says she, drawing OF
a long breath.
II did come precious near it last fall"
says for [ wanted her to see that it
wasn't altogether an impossibillty, and |
wasn't wasting my time in vapors-" when
JIM was at work up here helping to lay
out the garden. He was paid by the day,
you know; Mr. Mulgrave paid him. and
be was paid here and | had the handling
Of the money; and | said to myself: Now
OF never for that bureau!' But, dear me, /
had to turn that money over so many
times to get the things | couldn't do with
out any way at all that before got round
to the bureau it was every cent gonep'
eyes," she says, +" it's apt to be so. I
know if I don't get the expensive thing
when | have the money in my purse, the
money is filtered away and I've nothing
to show for it.
That's just the way it is with me-"
says I. "But somehow can't seem to do
without the shoes and flannel, and all that.
L ,ot3 rays
full horse of his. But [ should be afraid
he'd break my neck if / was behind
him.
"Not when my husbands driving"
says she. And she bids me good-day and
kisses Sue, and springs into the wagon
and is off like bird, with her veil and
her feathers and her ribbons and stream
ers all flying.
Well, SO far so good. Thinks I to my
self: "Shell be very pleasant neighbor.
IF she's ever so fine, she don't put on airs.
And it does you good, once in a while, to
have somebody listen when you want to
run on about Yourself. And maybe she'll
have odd chores that | can turn my hand
sewing, or clear starching, or
an extra help when company comes in. L
shouldn't wonder if we were quite mu-
tual advantage" And SO | told Jim, and
he said he shouldn't wonder, too.
Well, that evening, just at sunset-now
Pm telling you the real truth, and, if you
don't believe me, there it is to speak for
itself-Jim was APPLYING 'Roslin Cas-
de- and was a-putting Sue to sleep,
when happened to look out the window
and there was a iob-wagon coming straight
up the hill with something in it that had
a great canvas hanging over it. cts
a queer time o. day." says I to
myself, "to be bringing furniture
into Mr.. Mulgrave's house, and it
not half done, either. But it's none of
my business. Maybe it's refrigerator to
be set in the cellar" And went on pat
ting Sue. when all at once Jim's fiddle