Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1877-05-18
Madge Elliott in Detroit Free Press.
HIS POCKETS.

his many enueaflng pet names
had dwindled to "my dear" an oc-
casional darling" and very occa-
sional ''tootsy love" He read the
morning papers at breakfast, and the
evening papers at dinner. He had
gone to business several times of
late without kissing her. He had
ceased bringing home walnut candy,
and he had even slapped the babyl
And when a good natured, even
tempered man like John Margerum,
thought Mrs. Margerum, slaps his
own innocent offspring for nothing
more than throwing pudding on the
floor, and upsetting the salt cellar
into the teapot, there must be some
thing wrongl
Could he be enthralled by the arts
and wiles of some other woman? He
had said the other day that the high
est type of female beauty was the
blonde, and she had brown skin,
brown hair, brown eyes-in fact no
one could possibly have been more
brunetty.
He had Joined club lately-so he
said-and staid out until midnight
every Friday and Tuesday night; he
had taken to whistling love songs
and reading poetry, and when she
asked him for a simple ostrich feath-
er-one of those that go all round
the hat and hang gracefully over
the crown-he had growled that he
had no money.
Circumstances looked awful suspi-
clons, and, as circumstances gener-
ally do, the more they were looked
at the more suspicious they grew.
But how to find him out in his in
iquity-how to gather conclusive.
evidence with which to confront
him and cover him with confusion?
His pockets! In the days when
she had trusted him implicitly, and
when he used to remain up long af-
ter she retired, reading and writing
he had taken to going to bed ear
ly for several months past, giving
as reason that he wished to get
little sleep before the baby awoke
him by sitting on his head at mid
night, whereas the dear child never
sat upon his head before two in the
morning-she had never thought of
them. But now she was determin-
ed to examine them each night.
These inconstant husbands, in
spite of all their precautions, were
always sure to leave something in
their pockets to betray them at last.
She had read of hundred cases,
and heard of a hundred more, where
a lock of hair, photograph, wo-
mans glove, and, most conclusive
proof of all, a note, had led to di
vorce, or at least to separate main
tenance.
So, night after night, when John
Margerum's musical snore proclaim
ed that he slumbered, his wife stole
quietly from his side, and in fear
and trembling, with many furtIve
glances at the sleeper, it must be
confessed-for John, like most good
natured men, was the maddest of
the mad when he was mad-she
carefully examined the pockets of
trousers, vest, Overcoat and under
coat.
A month went by, and she had
found nothing but flask with some
thing more or less in it, a handker
chief smelling strongly of beer, a
pair Of gloves ditto, some coffee
beans. few cloves, a piece of flag
root, a meerschaum, half dozen ci-
gars, a paper of cigarettes, two or
three cards pertaining to hotels and
restaurants, night key and sundry
small coins.
At last, just five weeks after she
commenced her work, she felt that
her patience was about to be reward
ed.
In the corner of the vest, between
the cloth and lining-it had slipped
through hole in the pocket, made
there on purpose, no doubt, these
men are so artful-she discovered
the receipt for a registered letter,
which letter had been directed to
Miss - Miss Mary - (why do
postoffice people write so illegibly?)
for her life she couldn't make out
the surname, but Miss Mary some
body, on the very day he had denied
her, his lawful wife, the simple Os-
trich feather.
"Deceitful wretch!" she said be-
tween her shut teeth, glancing in
dignantly at the bed where the
wretch slumbered unconsciously,
"but now l have proof of his peril
dy," and she hid the postmaster's
receipt in her work basket, sand I'll
have more, if it takes me all the rest
of the winter to find them"
But she didn't have to wait all
the rest of the winter, for the very
next night, while John Margerum
was snoring louder than ever, and
after cloves, and the flask, and the
meerschaum, and the handkerchief
smelling of beer, and the gloves dit
to. and few other articles had tum-
bled out, away down at the bottom
of the breast pocket of her husbands
overcoat Mrs. Margerum found a
sealed envelope directed to nobody.
Straight to the garret she carried it,
deliberately tore it open aud read as
follows:
My DEAREST ONE-Meet me at the Aqua
rum on Wednesday afternoon, and there
we will spend some happy hours. To-
gether Wen watch the gambols Of the in
telligent seal, and look at the broad back
of the interesting whale. Together We, Il
gaze upon the Salmonese twins, and the
festive hermit crabs Don't disappoint me-
Be there at precisely, when the band De-
gins to play. Ever thine' hUAhf'
"Rummy," size repeated, with the
calmness of the volcano, as she in