Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-05-09
HIS FIRST WIFE.


And her bright eyes glistened from be-
hind cambria handker chief, like stars
from under an April cloud.
Mrs. Primrose was very pretty, and she
was very young, and the wedding ring,
on the third finger of the left hand, had
not yet lost the gloss of the jewelers.
store; and yet Mrs. Primrose was already
lamenting the choice she had made for
| life.
"Why, my dear" said Mrs. Mixel, look
| Ing half curiously around the cosy farm
house kitchen, where Mrs. Primrose was
crying into the preserving kettle. "What
can the trouble be?"
sIt-it's his first wifep' sobbcd Mrs.
Primrose. "The hateful thing! [ wish
he had never married her."
"My dear!' demonstrated prim Mrs.
| Mixel.
"Well, it's true" said the bride, pat
ting her little foot restlesslY on the stone
hearth. ashes always bothering in my
affairs"
Mrs. Mixel gave an alarmed glance
| over her shoulder, as If she had seen a
ghost.
"Georgy," she said, with snuff at her
smelling bottle, chow you do startle me
The first Mrs. Primrose has been dead
| and buried these three years. And you
| talk as if she was still alive"
$50 she is, so far as am concerned!'
flashed out Georgia Primrose. "Phineas
is always bringing her out of the grave.
For my part, I don't wonder that she
IL I'll. ~
to perfect too live. She never forgot to
sew the buttons on his shirt; she never
burned the toast, or scorched the oatmeal,
or wasted the potato Feelings, or-good
ness gracious! here he comes now!"
And Georgia fell to stirring the plums
with an energy that served as an escape
valve Tor her excited feelings, as Mr..
Phineas Primrose walked in-a tall, port
ly gentleman of middle age, with pair
OF eye glasses perched on Roman nose
and forehead all favored with phreno-
logical bumps.
ssYour most obedient Mrs. Mixel, said
be, with courteous obeisance-"your
most obedienrl Georgy my love-" with
glimmer of the spectacles in the direc-
ton of the preserving kettle, 81 think
YOU are burning those plums."
"No, am not!' said Georgia, never
once locking vp.
"My first vile" began Mr.. Primrose.
"There!' escaped spasmodinally from
Georgia's lips.
s.Eh?" said Mr.. Primrose.
"Nothing," said the bride, stirring the
plums as if her spoon was fash of silver
lightning9
.sMy first wife," resumed the remated
widcwer, Gas was about to remark, al
ways canned her fruit in glass jars. She
never failedG'
"Indced!'' said Mrs. Mlxel, rather puz-
lied what remark to make.
"Ahl' groaned Mr.. Primrose, "there
was a woman! A temper like an angel,
the judgement of Solomon, the econo-
my of true housekeeper. Take care my
| dear; you certainly are burning those
plumsv'
Mrs. Primrose dropped the spoon into
the boiling mass, and burst into tears.
81 don't care for the plums," cried sac
81 don't care for anything!'
Mr.. Primrose looked after her, with
eyes of mild reproach, as she ran out Of
the room.
l. Mrs. Mixel followed the bride into her
room, in some perplexity.
ssMy DEAR" said she, "you are very
FOOLISH
81 can't help IT, sobbed Georgia. "No
| one could, to have that horrid piece of
perfection thrown into her face every
hour of the twenty -four. 1t breaks my
heart, it poisons all my peacel If she
had only had the least bit of fault"
1--WE are all tallible, my love-" oracu-
larly remarked Mrs. Mixel.
'.But Mr. Primrose's first wife wasn't"
said Georgia. t-
'Humph!" said Mrs Mixel. "Do you
happen to know what part of the country
was her native placer
''snooksdale," faltered Georgia; Gin
the State of New Hampshire"
Sand her name was
ssMehitable Meeker. Oh, know all
the details by heartI" sighed the wife.
"And now I must go and rip Mr.. Prim-
roses old coat for carpet rags; his first
wife never wasted so much as a clip
ping of thread" with most fearful
grimace at the name of the obnoxious
| household idol, who was SO frequent
ly and remorsely set up to her to wor-
ship.
Mrs. Mixel went home and considered
| the matter little while; and then she
too7y the train for Snooksdale, New Hamp-
| shire.
give come to visit you, my DEAR" said
Aunt Eunlce Meeker, a pocked marked
old lady, with dyed bombazine dress,
silver spectacles, and Snooksdale habit
| of taking snuff. Mrs. Mixel said you
were lonesome, and I've nothing on earth
to do but to visit my relations"
''But I don't know who you are" said
Georgia; recoiling little before the ar
| ray of band boxes, brown paper parcels
and hair trunks studded with glittering
brass nails, behind which stood the little
old woman.
'sI'm your husbands first wife's Aunt
EuEice," said the visitor. She died at
my house."
Georgia's heart sank within her.
ibid sheg' faltered she.
sob, yes" nodded Aunt Eunice.-
'Have pinch of Maccaboy2 No? Your
husbands first wife snufed. That was
L IL