Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1877-11-23
PUssY's PRAYER.

peaSI" muSe0 Alexander SHOOK, loud
enough for his wife to hear distinctly every
word he said, though he was in the pantry
and she was in the woodshed hunting for
the hammer, which usually had a place of
its own on one of the joists, but was then
nowhere to be found.
s'It's always the way!" continued he in
a grieved tone that some men and many
women know well how to assume. l never
can put thing away, ready for use, but
it's toted off, and Pm tired of it.''
ssTired of what, Alex?' Mrs. Shook in
quired, innocentiy, coming into the kitch-
en- with the washboard tucked under her
bare arm, and some sticks Of maple wood
under the other.
She knew very well of what her husband
was tired. and he had been talking to her
all the time, but each was playing part,
in small way, and candor compels me to
admit that each did excellently. But then
the play had been On the boards good
many years, and the little talent that each
possessed in that line had a very good
chance for development.
''Tired Of what?'' The man repeated the
words after his wife, very despairingly, as
he kept on rummaging amongst the bottles
and packages Of various sorts on the top
shelf CT the pantry. "Why, tired of hav-
ing to hunt, and hunt, and hunt, for an
hour every time want anything, and then
not find it. put them peas on the shelf,
done up in paper bag, and all ready for
sowing; and now, that the ground is
ready, and my man waiting, they're no.
where to be found.''
when did you put them there, Alex?'
very coolly inquired Mrs. Shook.
"When? Why, last fall, to be sure"
"And you expected them to be there I'M
touched till sowing time, I suppose?"
"Of course did Why shouldn't I?''
Mrs. Shook walked Indignantly across
the room, finging tie washboard into the
tub, and splashing the suds over the head
of little girl who was buttoning her boots
by the window.
sob, mamma, see!'' cried the child,
lifting her pretty face that was fecked
Will Clc WulUC lOdIu VI UuC WdLtI. yOu w
just soused me! "
"Never mind" said the mother, taking
crash towel from its roller, and wiping
the upturned face tenderly.
''W hat is it, pet?" inquired the father,
forgetting all about the peas.
''Oh, nothing" pet answered, pulling
vigorously at the topmost button, which
was set too far back for the good of the
chubby little leg nothing, only little
bit of suds" added the truthful child.
81 wish you'd be more careful, Matilda"
whlned the man. sit might have got in
her eyes,
"And made them all the brighter" in
terrupted Matilda. ''There's no danger Of
my hurting my own child, I guess. Ifyou
think there is, why you'd better''-
Mrs. Shook got no farther in the items
of her counsel, for the little one broke in Z:
81 know where the peas are, papa"
"You know, Chit ?''-the one child of
Alexander and Matilda Shook had hun
bred pet names-"That's funny How
should you know ?"
"Why, saw them, papa. Don't you re-
member-in your bureau drawer, where
you was a-hunting, oh, a good while? And
when saw the cunning little paper, I said
WHAT'S this, Epapa?" and you told me,
Peas, honey, in there, and member just
so easy-as easy as muffin at all -
cts so, by Jove! I remember, too,
now. I'd have sworn that put them on
the butter shelf, though
The man went into the bedroom, and
coming back, proceeded to empty the con-
tents of the paper bag into one of muslin,
with strong strips attached, that he took
from the table where pile of wet clothes
were lying.
81 declare this bags as wet as sop"
grumbled he-"a pretty thing to tie to a
fellow!"
"a fellow shouldn't have left it there.
then !''-the woman's eyes were swapping
dangerously-''b suppose you'll say it s
all my doings? That is the way with men,
the world over, and women have tough
time of it, my way Of thinking.''
"Humph'' from the throat of Alexander.
And something equally contemptuous
would have fallen from his lips, that were
curled scornfully, had he not seen the look
on his child's face just then. AS it was.
he withdrew his eyes, kissed the red lips of
his darling, and went out into the SUM-
shine.
I don't like to write about unpleasant
people or things. One feels so stifed in an
atmosphere of petty meanness, whether of
act or of speech; and if ones duty could be
always done as well talking only of things
that are tenderly beautiful, and of lives
that are like good words to grand tunes