South Branch intelligencer. [volume] (Romney, Va. [W. Va.]) 1830-1896, 1877-02-23

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| sstory-ahe ,oo6se cold, the
drs snt. and aha room full OF
Mr. Grumbler drew his CHAIR up to the
breakfast table rs he spoke, with the
face of a martyr. s4.a
"rhe coffee Is only just male. DEAR"
said Mrs. Grumbler. pretty. timid-look-
ing woman with soft blue eyes and
brown braids: 'and don't think the
room is very cold. As for the smoke.
am sorry, but the man promised to have
the chimney seen to yesterday"
"Of course he did nobody ever keeps
promises to US !" groaned Mr.. Grumbler.
"if it had been Smith, now, the clIim.
! ney would have been seen to long ago.
Do give me piece Of steak that Is at
least warmed through, we're not ,canni-
balls that l know of, to eat our meat
raw. But that's always the way-wc
never had a cook that understood how
to broil a steak"
"But. my dear said Mrs. Grumb-
Ter.
"Don't tell me-" interrupted Mr..
Grumbler. II know just how things
ought to be done. The paper hasn't
come yet, l suppose? No. of course
not. really wish somebody would en-
tighten me as to why my paper is al
ways half an hour later than anybody
else's. fthat baby don't leave off cry
ing. shall certainly go crazy"
Its teeth trouble it," sighed Mrs.
Grumbler, leaving the breakfast table,
to walk up and down the room with her
fretful little charge.
"Oh, nonsense ~ said Mr.. Grumbler,
sharply charging at slice Of toast with
his fork You coddle it too much. that's
ALL
Mrs. Grumbler thought Of the general
commotion into which the house had
been thrown about month previously,
when Mr.. Grumbler had the toothache.
But she nestled the baby's velvet head
against her shoulder, and said nothing
-woman's way of disposing of great
many little martyrdoms.
"Now, then, where's my hat?" de-
mandcd MIR. Grumbler. rising and look.
ing around. very singular that hat is
never in its place.
ut is just where You hung it yourself,
paper, in the hail. said little Harry,
from behind his spelling hook.
Children shouldn't talk so much,"
said Mr.. Grumbler, tartly. "My dear,
that rent in the lining Of my top coat is
not mended yet; why did you no: see
to it,
II intended to do So" said his wife.
apologetically, but you know we had
company last night, and the baby slept
so badly that rose rather later than
usual this morning, but"
Always some excuse" interrupted
her liege lord. IL really don't under.
stand the reason that nothing is ever
done in time in this house"
He gave the front door rather IN EN-
phatic slam rs he went out, and little
Mrs. Grumbler, instead of rebclliny a.
gainst her husbands iron rule just sat
down to crying. Oh ! those comforting
woman's tears; how many grievances
float into oblivion upon their blessed
tide; how many heart wounds are heal.
ed by their balmy drops. Woman may
lose all her privileges, one by one, but
rs long as she can cry there is some con-
ISOLATION remaining to her.
Mr.. Grumbler wasn't by any means a
bad husband. lie really loved his wife.
and believed himself to be pattern of
conjugol amiability only. he had, some
how or other. fallen into the uncon.
scious habit of fault-fnding; and like
many another individual, whenever he
couldn't find anything else to do, he
grumbled.
Crying again. Bessie !" exclaimed
her brother, coming in just all hour or
two later.
Now that's too bad. suppose
Henry has been treating you to another
domestic growl? I've great mind to
tell him how uncomfortable you are
made by his little eccentricities. Shall
/, Bess?'
mo, no; wouldn't have you breathe
a syllable to him for the world - eager.
ly exclaimed Mrs. Grumbler, hurriedly
| drying her tears. "IIe has the kindest
heart in the world and know he loves
: me-
81 dare say he does" said young Mr..
Carlton, but why is he frettine and
fault-iinding hour after houri think
IL IS an oversight i'm our laws that there
Is not one TO punish married men who
scOld ~
| " h"S was bTunDleI 3 surprise, on
coming home tnat evening, fully primed
for TRADE, on the subject Of button
which had drirted from his shirt front
during the day, to find his especially
easy chair, and corner OF the fire. occn.
pied by an asthmatic old man, whose
head and face were enveloped in n silk
handkerchief. and whose feet we're i'm
tub OF hot water. lie stopped short in
amazement and horror.
This Is Uncle Tompkns, Harry"
said Mrs. Grumbler, who was busy
warming basin OF Cruel over the fire:
and the old gentleman extended one
finger without turning lis head, and
said IN a cracked voice, wish, nephew,
you would shut that door. Nobody
eve- thinks OF ever shutting door in
this house F! What's that noise up stairs?