, 1876-09-08
Mr. Kendig's Amio lion.
by MAX ADLER.

~ NAN Tall anu HltuhtlF anu NAttNA III
the habiliments of woe. He entered
the Office of Colonel Bangs, editor of the
AryWS, and took chair. Removing his
hat, he wiped the moisture from his
eyes, rubbed his nose thoughtfully for
moment, put his handkerchief in his
hat, his hat upon the floor, and said to
the colonel:
You didn't know Mrs. Kendig?"
Il hadn't that pleasure" said the
colonel. "Who was she?"
She was my wife. She's been sick
some time. But day before yesterday
she was took worse, and she KEEP on
sinking until evening, when she gave a
kinder sudden jump couple of times,
and then her spirit hickered Dead,
you know. Passed away to another
world"
1 am very sorry" said the colonel.
So am l. And I called around to
see if couldn't get some of you liter
ary people to saw out some kind of a
poem, describing her peculiarities, so
that 1 can advertise her in the paper"
Il dunno; may be we might"
"Oh, you didn't know her, you say?
Well, she was a sing'lar woman. Had
oNAOAb hcI uOSt Nho
the crookedest in the State; all bent
around sideways. Old Captain Binder
used to say that it looked like the jib
sail of an oyster-sloop on the windward
tack. Only his fun you know. But
Helen never minded it. She said her
self that it aimed so much around the
corner that whenever she sneezed she
blew down her back hair. There we're
rich depths of humor in that womanl
Now don't mind if you work into the
poem some picturesque allusion to the
condition of her nose, so her friends
will recognize her. And you might also
spend a verse or two on her lame eye."
What was the matter with her eye?"
asked the colonel.
Gone, sir; gone Knocked out with
a chip while she was splitting kindling
wood when she was child. She fixed
it up somehow with q glass one, and it
gave her the oldest expression you ever
saw. The false one would stand per-
fectly still while the other one was roll
ing around, so that bout half the time
you couldn't tell whether she was
studying astronomy or watching the
hired girl pare potatoes. And she'd lay
there at night, with the indisposed eye
wide open, glaring at me, while the
other was tight shut, so that sometimes
I'd get the horrors and kick her and
shake her to make her get up and fix it.
Now reckon you could stuff in some
language about her eccentricities of Wis
ion, couldn't you? Don't care what it
is, so that have the main facts"
Was she peculiar in any other re-
spects?".
"Well, yes. One leg was gone; run
over by wagon when she was little.
But she wore patent leg that did her
pretty we'll. Bothered her sometimes,
but most generally gave her good deal
of comfort. She was fond of machin-
cry. And then, you know, she could
take it off at night and stand it on the
hat rack in the entry and go to bed with
only one cold foot. She was very CRATE
full for her privileges. Although some
times it worried her, too. The springs d
work wrong now and then; and may be
in church her leg d give a squirt and be-
gin to kick and hammer away at the
board in front of the pew until it
sounded like boiler factory. Then I'd
carry her out, and most likely it d kick
at me all the way down the aisle, and
end up by dancing her around the ves-
thule, until the sexton would rebuke
her for waltzing in church. Seems to
me there's material for poetry in that,
isn't there?"
She was self-willed woman. Often
when she wanted to go to q sewing bee
or TO gad about somewhere, may be I'd
stuff that leg up the chimney or hide it
in the wood-pile. And then when I
wouldn't tell her where it was, do you
know what she'd do?"
"What?"
Why, she'd lash an umbrella to her
stump, and drift off down the street s
if that umbrella was born there! You
couldn't get ahead Of her She wss in
geniousl I've known her, when the
baby was playing with the potato
masher, to unbuckle that leg and use it
for mashing. Take it by the knee and
work the joint backward and forward
splendidly.
$50 thought I'd mention few facts
to you, and you can just throw 'em to-
gether and make them rhyme, and I'll
call round and pay you for them. What
day? Tuesday? Very we'll; I'll run in
on Tuesday and see how you've fixed
her up"
Then Mr.. Kendig smoothed up his
hat with his handkerchief, wiped the
accumulated sorrow from his eyes,
placed his hat upon his head, and sailed
serenely out and down the stairs to-
wards his desolated hearthstone.
THE Journal of Health has been col
lecting all the recipes for rheumatism
floating around, some of which are quite
ad;fvin0 par avomnla. XIII hi0 don,