The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1882-12-14
chronological Journal.l
Mrs. BOWman's NeUraI%ia.

On the hfth day Mrs. Bowman made
her toilet as scrupulously as ever, and
took her seat at the breakfast table.
Mr.. Bowman was little late.
Whether or not he had been obliged to
devote more time than usual to his
knitting-work, or the falling off of
military discipline was the cause of
his hardness, was not known. But
when he did make his appearance, the
deprecating apology which exhaled
from the whole man was changed to
a nervous chill, which would have
been more exasperating to Mrs. Bow
man than any number of dropped
stitches. But she saw it not. The
fact was, this lady had job on her
hands which required her undivided
attention. Mrs. Bowman had always
been distinguished for the dignity Of
her bearing. In fact, dignity was her
strong point, and never since Mr.. Bow
mans acquaintance with her, had he
known it to be compromised in the
slightest degree. But now, with her
head in her hands, her elbows on her
knees, rocking to and fro to the
rhythm of an indescribable torture,
the poor victim of neuralgia groaned
and wept. Mr.. Bowman stood for
moment like man stunned. Then,
gathering courage from a prolonged
and awful crescendo, he drew as near
as seemed safe, and broke the rule Of
his life by asking his wife question.
amanda" said he, timidly, sis any
body dead?" 1t never occurred to
this gentleman that his wife might
be ill. SCertainly not. Had she not
Informed him fifty thousand times at
least, that she had never been i'll day
in her life, and wasn't that equivalent
to saying she never would be? MIR;
Bowwan's confidence in the partner OF
his joys and woes-barring the stitch
es-was unlimited.
A suppressed shrek was the only
answer Mr.. Bowman received to his
inquiry. He tried it again. ''Tell
me, Amanda" he pleaded, drawing
step nearer, lis anybody dead?'
ibid you ever know of day when
there aoasn't somebody dead?' Mrs.
Bowman at last responded, in tone
that caused her husband to back lit
tie. "Perhaps you have" she went on,
one hand clenched in her crimps, the
other frantically extended, ~but I
never did,
"But there must be something ter
rible the matter" Mr.. Bowman gently
remarked.
"Did I say there wasn't?" Mrs.
Bowman inquired, sobbing now as if
her heart would break. "It's my
head, if you want to-want to know!
My head, I tell you, my head, my
head! my head!'
''How did you hurt il?
Mr. Bowman put on his glasses now,
and tried to discover the cut or the
bruise, or whatever it was. His wife
had of course met with an accident.
A step-ladder, scrubbing-pail, or a
box of soap might have fallen on her
head. He couldn't think of anything
else that would have been likely to
cause the trouble, and Mr. Bowman
had altogether too deep-seated an
opinion Of his wife's knowledge of
herself, and consistency Of character
to suspect any internal disarrange-
ment.
"Please, Amanda, tell me how you
did it!' the husband entreated, bitterly
remorseful that he had not risked the
consequences, and warned his wife
against the perils Of house-cleaning.
Perhaps if you will tell me what it
was that fell on you, and let me see
just where the wound is, can do
something for you"
81 feel as If a red-hot iron was
punching my left eye out, and some-
body was driving spike clear through
my headr' And now another lorna
do Of sobs put an end to the frantic
communication.
"Just so, Amanda said Mr., Bow
man, with pathetic cheerfulness, "but
how did you do it?"
II didn't do it. l dunno how 1 did
itt' was the somewhat contradictory
reply. "It's overwork, cold, worry,
nerves, neuralgia" the last word ac-
tually howled out. "Nov do you
know?"
Mr.. Bowman didn' t appear to know
much of anything. lie it hadn't been
that his mouth and eyes seemed bent
on finding out which could open the
widest, there would have been no sign
of life about him. Some men would
have been less surprised to find out
that their wives had run away from
them, than Mr.. Bowman was in the
discovery Of his wife's fallibility.
That she could suffer like ordinary
mortals was past belief, and yet here
she was, so thoroughly taken possess
sion of by the intolerable agony Of a
very common disorder, that she had
not only parted with her dignity. but
was even oblivious to his bad habits.
One paroxysm Of pain followed an
other, and finally Mr.. Bowman gath
cred courage to remove his wife's Glen
ched and almost rigid hands from her
head, and substitute his own weak and
trembling ones.
Never in all his attacks Of stitch
dropping and subsequent wear and
tear, had his wife once stretched out
helping hand, but Mr.. Bowman knew
what pain was, and Judging by what
would have been grateful to him in
his own moments of suffering, he
pressed the throbbing head until the |
violence Of the pain had abated. At |
this crisis Mr. Bowman was threaten
ed with a stitch. So distressed and
alarmed was he at the probable conse-
quences Of such an accident that he
turned every imaginable color in his
efforts to prevent it. But it was no