The Beaufort tribune and Port Royal commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1877-1879, 1877-04-26
THE HOUSE CLEANING.

Mr.. Walter Ammidon laid his knife
and fork down with gesture of abso-
lutte despair.
"Not going to clean house again, Mrs.
Benedict Why, it seems as if we had
only lust recovered from the dreadful
tearing up process of last spring !"
Mrs. Benedict slowly dropped four
Jumps of sugar into his coffee, then
handed it to him, utterly regardless Of
the misery in his face.
Z" Dreadful tearing up that's per-
feet nonsense, Mr.. Ammidon. AS if you
were very much inconyenienced last
May while the carpets were up and the
curtains down and the painting going
on. Of course I shall clean; it's my
habit. and has been for twenty odd
years.
Mr.. Ammidon gave a little groan at
the sad fate that awaited him-that
awaited all bachelors in boarding houses
a--in the shape of several consecutive
days of bare floors and the odor of soap;
of cold dinners eaten wherever it was
convenient to set the dining table; OF
Mrs. Benedict In q chropic state OF
hustle and crossness, and the servants
impudent, tired and sulky; of wide open
doors and windows where the draughts
tore through.
He was a gentleman, however, Mr..
Ammidon was, and so repressed his i'll
temper and disgust and mental maledic
items that house cleaning was purely
malicious instigation of his Satanic
majesty for the torment of mankind
"Well be so nice and sweet and clean, !"
Mrs. Benedict went on, with horrible
cheerfulness, "and I've been thinking
that I'll have your rooms newly papered,
Mr.. Ammidon. I'm sure you'll like
that ?"
every much-when it's done, mad
am"
And he cut his meal short and rushed
out of doors into the cool, fresh October
evening air.
"Ah, bah! I can already experience
the agonies of last spring Good heaven
the woman must be made of cast iron to
attempt such siege again. 1t is no
wonder her husband died If he suffered
two attacks of house cleaning year, and
I shall die or grow crazy unless l leave
her-but I suppose all women are
equally idiotic.
A groan of genuine misery broke from
his lips as he strobe along, his hat
jammed over his eyes-very unlike the
handsome gentleman he really was, with
his frank, CHEEKY face and pleasant
mouth, with the white, even teeth, and
the half curling, thick dark hair, and the
grave, intelligent eyes, that nothing
could ruffie as the idea of Mrs.
Benedict's semi-annual " tearing
up"-a courteous, refined, genial
gentleman, whom society found puzzle
because of his persistent bachelorhood,
when it knew of at least half-dozen
women who would have jumped at the
faintest chance of an offer of marriage
from him-who himself wondered why
he never had fallen in love-and whom
pretty little Mrs. Baldwin, the blue
eyed. blonde haired widow, with no in
cumberance, house of her own, and an
income of three thousand a year, often
felt quite piqued with that he was so very
unimpressionable.
So Mr.. Ammidon strobe along, almost
mechanically turning corners, his pace
gradually growing slower, and then, all
at once. he heard the brilliant tones
of piano as some skilled hands played,
and. looking up, found himself in front
of warmly lighted, CHEEKY, hospitable
house-the very house where Mrs. Bes-
sic Baldwin lived.
The contrast was so startlingly vivid
between the pictures in his imagination
that he involuntarily paused-one, the
picture of the way Mrs. Benedict's
boarding house would look next day, the
other of how Mrs. Baldwin's elegant
little home always appeared when he
called there and as it appeared now
through the lace curtains-quiet, warm,
hospitable, inviting.
And like revelation from heaven II
came to him-an idea, determination
that was so strong, so resistless that he
walked forthwith up Mrs. Baldwin s front
steps and rang the door bell, wondering
as he did why the music had ceased anC
where the player had gone.
"I'll marry her if she'll have me, ano
then we'll see how many times yeal
the house is cleaned that is, if"
Then the door opened and the mait
invited him into the parlor, with the In
formation that Mrs. Baldwin had JUS
run into neighbor's by the side gate
but would be back directly if the sicl
child was better she had gone to see.
Mr.. Ammidon ensconced himself IL
the easiest chair in the room--a great
deep, wide, cushioned affair that wa
drawn up by the little low table under tn