The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1882-12-02

and why. how are you, Mrs. Baker? l |
am very glad to see you."
And undoubtedly he was, for he was
sorely puzzled.
Aunt Baker looked at the breakfast ia
BILE, the sob5ing Amina, and the splut- |
tering Boabdil, in evident astonishment
Poor little Mrs. Boabdil, hastily wiped
her eyes, and came forward, trying to
smile.
Dear Aunt Baker, am so glad to see
you. ! have such shocking headache, |
and ] am such silly, nervous creature,
I was crying about it."
stAmina,' exclaimed her husband in
his deepest bass! "When will you ever
be truthful? My wife has no headache,
at all, Mrs. Baker. The plain truth of
the matter is, am forming her charac-
ter, and she takes it very hard, and re-
sents my efforts as actual injuries. It is
in vain for me to say to her, ..Amina, you
are a perfect child, you know you are.
You have always been petted and
spoiled, and need the guidance of
strong will and great common sense to
make a woman of you She is deaf to
| all my arguments, and treats me to this
sort of scene every time I open my
mouth; so that were not my duty superb
or to all other considerations with me, /
should give up in despair
"And you are sure you are pursuing
the best method?" asked Aunt Baker,
quietly.
"sure? Positive ma'am. Only way
in the wor1d-only way in the world +,
ma'am. Be perfect child all her life,
if I don't. Good morning, ma'am.
AminA, be sure that the trunk is ready
precisely at three
Amina sank down on footstool and
buried herself again in the depths of her
handkerchief. Aunt Baker waited till
from the window, she had seen Mr..
Boabdil quite out of the gate. Then she
seated herself beside her niece and drew
the pretty little auburn head down in
her lap.
''Now, you little goose, what is it all
about, and what has become of the
honeymoon that was to shine over your
graves?"
"Oh! don't, please don't, Aunt Baker, u
shifted Amins. "There is no honey
moon at all, and it's perfectly dreadful,
and it gets worse all the time He will
GO away this time; 1 know he will. ]
never have seen HIM so dreadfully in
earnest before, and I shall die if he
| does!'
"No you won't" returned Aunt Baker
''you are worth twenty dead women yet.
But why is Mr.. Boabdil going away?"
"Ohl everything goes wrong; and I'm
suca a silly, foolish thing, can't help
it; and he likes his steak just SO; and
the cook says there must some of it be
done; and he hates weak coffee, and
three tablespoonfuls isn't enough for
that dreadful urn, and he won't allow
four. And then you see, Aunt. Baker
this is dear little place, with lawn in
front, and creepers, and vines. and
things, but the rooms are SO small you
can't turn round in them; and though
the kitchen is as romantic as can be, and
looks out in an arbor on the top of rocks,
the cook isn't satisfied and is all the time
giving warming; and Arthur isn't half as
kind and attentive as he used to be. You
know how he used to be at parties-why
he never ate thing himself, he was Sc
busy helping me; and only two days
afteB we were married, there was plate
and I had to ask him for it three times
before he helped me, though he knows
that is my weakness. But I bore it in
oAANd~O, anu "ooh St1bts W 1OiA AVs OfOA
to Lizzie, because know it is a wonlan's
duty to suffer, and there are some griefs
that are sacred. But wasn't it hard?"
Dreadful" returned Aunt Baker
gravely.
And then went on Amina, warming:
''He wouldn't even let me write to
Lizzie, but took away my pens and
paper, and he says married woman
oughtnt to have friendships; and that
the less you have to do with anybody
that you ever knew or liked before mar
riage the better; because, he says, g
woman must leave father and mother
and cleave to her husband Is it so in
your Bible, Aunt Baker? can't find il
in mine."
1--WE will look for it by-and-by," said
Aunt Baker. with difficulty preserving
her gravity. s'But is this alp"
Cali? oh! dear, no! I was so silly
cried when he scolded; and then he said
was a child and didn't manage the
house rightly; and he goes into all the
closets and finds such dreadful things
and he says am SO extravsgant I am
running him; a I'D that he has made uT
his mind not to live with a woman who
can't make him happy; and he has had
his trunk packed, oh, so many times
and have had to cry and go down on
my knees to keep him. But I never saw
him 50 determined as he is nov and I'm
sure he will &c ghis iin,e-and oh, Aunt
Baker, what shall do?"
Burn all your handkerchiefs, OF
make a VOW not to use them for the next
six months" returned Aunt Baker, with
sudden energy. BE blind, dumb. deaf
do anything but cry. Your husband
wished you to be woman; prove that
you are one by listening to his ridicu-
lous and unjnst accusations in unmoved
silence"
ssAunt Baker,
"Yes, say ridiculous and unjust,
Mrs. Boabdil. This man comes and
takes silly little thing, just out of
school, with neither sense nor experience
and expects her at once to assume the
responsibilities of q woman-to have
more tact, discretion and patience than
himself, to forget without an effort all
the ties of her girl-life, and to bear with
his whims with the equanimity of a
woman who had learned to despise them.
Because you cant do all this he storms
and packs up his trunk, and you-dear
little fool that you are-cry! declare,
I lose all patience when I think of it.
and would like to take you both and
whip you soundly."
But, Aunt Baker, what in the world
can do?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Why. of course I do"