The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1880-01-16

rings, and patent refrigerators, and
ivory-backed brushes, and dog collars,
and mouse-traps and silk gowns, and
velvet mantels, and arm-chairs, and sill
uer combs, and-and the dear knows
what"
"Is she quite mad?'' says Lou, look
ing at me calmly, with an air OF dis
passionate inquiry.
s'Mad? Who wouldn't be mad!"
cries Aunt Con, Historically. 81
hadn't spent an unnecessary cent all
day. Ihad weighed and balanced every
penny, starved myself, broiled myself,
tired myself to death, and all to put my
hand in my pocket, while l was waiting
for car, and find my purse gone"
"Gone!" we cry; and Aunt Con mods
grimly.
"Gone'' she repeats. Ell Well, I
might as well confess at once, girls.
though you'll crow over me, 1 know. I
sewed my pocket with that cheap thread
from Carter's- kind I wanted you
to buy, and you wouldn't-and it didn't
hold worth cent. That's all. Luckily
I had put my return ticket into my
watch-pocket for safe-keeping, or how
ever / should have got home bothers
me-"
Lou and do not "crow over her,"
as she anticipated. We haven't the
heart to do so, in the face of her hum
BILE confession, and Aunt Con is duly
grateful.
The next day Aunt Con is down on
her back from the effects of the heat,
the fatigue, and the final drenching
which she has undergone. The doctor
is in constant requisition for ten days,
at the end of which time he orders
change of air to complete the cure.
Aunt Con looks grave.
"But can not afford it, I really can
not, girls" she says, earnestly. "This
air is good enough for any body"
"Just as fower-pots are good enough
for date-palms,' interrupt, rather
wickedly, 1 am afraid.
"Well, but really must economize,"
says Aunt Con, with slight flush.
"Aunty," says Lou, gravely, evil
you listen to me? 1 have been trying to
make computation of your gain and
loss by your trip to New York, but
things are so mixed up that I can not
arrive at an altogether satisfactory re-
suit. Your fare to and from New York
was S1.3O. You saved five cents by
going on that special day, but, as you
also encountered thunderstorm by so
doing 1 think we may cross off that item
of saving. Now let US begin with what
you spoiled. Your boots COST
"Four dollars, and they were new"
says Aunt Con, sadly.
"a pair of India rubbers at fifty cents
would have saved them; but you econ
omized, and thus lost $3.50. Your bon
net
"I made it myself, and the material
cost four dollars
"You saved the price of cheap UNI
brclla, say $3.50, and thus lost $3.50.
Your dress was worth, say So; your
shawlEyak, wasn't it?-say $3.50; as it
was far from new. A cab at $3.50
would have saved both, and rendered
India rubbers and umbrella unnecessary.
(Really this calculation is getting too
much for my brain.) Say $3.50 for
loss on clothes, balanced by saving of
$3.50 in cab hire. You saved on your
"Just enough to pay my fare" says
Aunt Con, dolefully.
"And some of the packages were lost
at the same time as your purse, and
some ruined by the rain. Say 60 cents
saved, which is an ample margin. Your
purse contaiIed-''
"One hundred dollars-I thought I'd
better take enough" groans Aunt Con;
but Lou continues, remorsely:
(which we must set against your
economy in thread. You saved by buy
ing cheap thread, say ~ cents on a
dozen spools, and thereby lost a hun
dred dollars. Then your Doctors bill,
ten visits at $3.50 visit; your medi-
cines-how much did they come to,
Aunt Comp
"Spare me! spare me!' cried Aunt
Con, wildly. 81 see! I see! My econo
NV will he NV min No income conld