Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1876-07-19

Becky didn't say another word. but
she slid away over to the other side of
/ the bed, creeping away from the very
neighborhood OF the man who ate to be
| filled, and who was tempted at the
sight of cow-feed until his mouth wa
! tered.
| Before the children started to school
the next morning she made them some
berry pie for their dinners; there was
sugar enough to make them good and
palatable She told Jack that at noon
| he would find his dinner in the dining
room-that she was going down to
spend the day ut his mothers, and
| would not come home until evening.
| Jack WINGED little, but she did not
seem to see it, as she added: Nov
some men are so very particular that
they can't eat a cold dinner, but YOU
don't care. l will darken the dining
room to keep the flies out, and spread
| cloth over the table. and no doubt
| you'll have good time.
| There was determined expression
away back in her merry gray eyes, but
| Jack did not see it.
At noon Jack came in tired enough
How lonely and still the house was!
Becky's sun-bonnet hanging on the
back of the rocking-chair was all that
looked familiar He took it up and
looked ut it; he held it off and looked:
and he tried it on, and shook his head
until the starched Bingham rustled.
"Well, WELL" he said, ga body
wouldn't think how much company a
wife is, Lawful sakes but Il man
misses 'em about meal-time! Now
there's no smell o cookin' in the
house, an no step a-trippin' here an
there. an little sweaty red face about
the cook-stove." This was what he
thought as he gawked about like a for
lorn goose. Then he went into the
dining-room. How cool and clean!
He flung open the shutters and the
light beamed in upon the table set for
one, over which was lightly spread
snowy cloth. He lifted the corners
and raised it with the most gingerly
care, when there before him was a deep
yellow dish half filled with wheat bran
over which was generous sprinkling
of salt.
With an exclamation almost profane
he stood staring at the marvellous feast
spread for his delectation. ''Well,
well, who'd a thought Becky Punder-
son would dared do sich an a thing
as that? wy, she's allus been as meek
as a mousev'
He went down cellar and found some
good bread and butter: he took up the
cotfee-pot and shook tit contained
nothing but grounds; he smelt inside,
but the poor, patient, planning little
woman had put on water and boiled
over those grounds SO often that no
smell of coffee was left. We don't
know what he thought Us he ate his
bread and butter and drank noisily
from his bowl of milk, but once or
twice if his guardian angel were near
enough she would have heard him ejac-
ulate-well, what he said at first when
he raised the cloth spread over his
tempting repast.
About the middle of the afternoon
Jack Punderson, husband. hitched up
to his buggy, drove down to the corner
grocery, and bought lots of " luxuries
tea, coffee, sugar, rice, corn starch,
lemons, baking powder and such
things; then he drove home past moth
ers, and after an early tea carried
Becky and the baby home in the buggy.
Not word was spoken about his
toothsome MONDAY repast. When he
helped her out of the buggy he said,
"Send one of the chaps out here with
a bushel basket when you go to the
house. | have a few foolish little tri-
tles in under the seat.
Now in stories the writer would
say "They lived in peace and happi-
ness forever after" but | don say so.
Jacks niggardly, selfish habits were
bred in him and they showed Them
selves frequently. but the little woman
who used to sit down and cry and al
most wish she had married Tom Tink
En- the music teacher, instead of rich
Jack Punderson--well, she was capa-
BILE of managing the fellow.
One time in mid-harvest they had
hired hands and were out OF wood.
She had burnt old rails, and peeled
bark off the fences, and gathered dead
sticks in the woods, and split up old
barrel slaves and crock covers until
she was tired Of it. 1t added much to
her burden. and one morning she told
Jack he really must hunt up wood
enough to cook the dinner and the sup
per. anyhow.
MY mother allus tended to gittin'
her own wood in harvest time, said
he: " men generally have the heft o
the work then, you know; what she
did YOU kin do for little spell.
but | have gathered up and
burned everything | can find, was
the hopeless answer.
Look at yon chip-yard Just a-foan-
in with the incest kind o chips, he