Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1877-01-31
MIR. Grumbler'S Cure.
ALEssoN FOR HUSBANDS.

''The old story-the coffee cold, the
fire nearly out. and the room full OF
sitting smoke"
Mr.. Grumbler drew his chair up to the
breakfast table as he spoke, with the
face of martyr.
1.-The coffee is only just made, DEAR"
said Mrs. .Grumbler, pretty ,timid-look-
ing woman with soft blue eyes and
brown braids; ''and l don't think the
room is very cold. As for the smoke,
am sorry, bat the man promised to have
the chimney seen to Yesterday"
''0f course he did; nobody ever keeps
promises to U.S." groaned Mr. Grumbler-
"If it had been Smith, now. the chin
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 / know of, to eat our meat
raw. But that's always the Wayne
never had cook that understood how
to broil a steak
"But, my dear" said Mrs. Grumbler.
"DOnt tell me-" interrupted Mr..
Grumbler. az know just how tn ings
ought to be done. The paper hasn't
come yet, | 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. If that baby don't leave of cry
ing. l shall certainly 20 crazy"
"Its teeth trouble it," sighed Mrs.
g Grumbler, leaving the breakfast table,
TO walk up and down the room with her
fretful little charge.
"Oh, nOnsensc.' 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 a month pre-
viously. when Mr.. Grumbler had the
toothache. But she nestled the baby's
velvet head against her shoulder, and
said nothing-woman's way of dispos-
ing of a great many little martyrdoms.
"Now, then, where's my hat?' de-
manded Mr.. Grumbler, rising and look
ing around. Every singular that hat is
never in its place"
alt is just where you hung it your
self, paper, in the hail." said little
Harry, from behind his spelling book.
"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 not see
10 it,
II intended to do So" said his wife
apologetically, ''hut 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 Iiege lord. 81 really don't under
stand the reason that nothing is ever
done in time i'm this house"
He gave the front door rather an en-
phatic slam as he went out, and little
Mrs. Grumbler, instead of rebelling
against her husbands iron rule just sat
down to cry. Oh! those comforting
woman's tears; how many grievances
aoat into oblivion upon their blessed
tide; how many heart wounds are
healed by their balmy drops. Woman
may lose all her privileges, one by one,
but as long as she can cry there is some
consolation remaining to her.
Mr.. GrumbleT wasn't by any means a
bad husband. He really loved his wife,
and believed himself to be a pattern of
conjugal amiability; only, he had,
some how or other, fallen into the un-
conscious habit of fault-finding; and
like many another individual, whenever
he couldn't find anything else to do, he
grumbled.
"Crying again, BessieI'' exclaimed
her brother, coming in just an hour or
two later.
"Now that's too bad. l 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
l, Bess?'
"No, no; Iwouldn' I have you breathe
syllable to him for the world ~ ca
gerly exclaimed Mrs. Grumbler, hur
riedly drying her tears "He has the
kindest heart in the world and l know
he loves me-"
81 dare say ne Does" said young Mr..
Carlton, "but why is he fretting AID
fault-finding hour after hour? think
it is IN oversight in our laws that there
is not one 10 punish married men who
scoldi'
What was Grumbler's surprise, on
coming home that evening, fully primed
for TRADE, on the subject of button
which had drifted from his shirt front
during the day, to find his especially
easy chair, and corner of the fire, occu-
pied by an asthmatic old man, whose
head and face were enyeloped in silk
handkerchief, and whose feet were in q
tub OF hot water. He stopped short in
amaZement and horror.
"This is Uncle Tompkins, Harry u