Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1882-05-18
LOVE AND HOUSE CLEANING,

II wonder who first invented house.
cleaning" grOaned Mr.. Merton. "Who
ever he was, hope he died in luna
tic asyluml Slippers in the bureau
drawer, on top of my best shirts; ink
stand under the bed; dressing-gown
nobody knows where; chairs all tied
up in hollands wrappngs, and nothing
to sit on but the top OF hat.boxl And.
worse than all, carpets ruthles5lS
wrenched up, and floor all deluged with
damp sOap.suds, enough to give man
rheumatism and neuralgia for the
whole remaining term of his natural
life! job might have had great
many trials to test his PATIENCE
haven't doubt of that-but there was
one trial he didn't have. never read
in Scripture that Jobs wife cleaned
housed That's a modern aggravatiOn.
l mean to marry Il nice girl and make
it a stipulation beforehand that we
won't turn our house upside down, on
pIlHClpdl, IWlCe Il year!
Mr.. Merrion sOliloquized thus, as he
stood before the mirror smoothing his
brown curly locks with his fingers, ia
lieu of his hair brush, which no amount
Of search had proved available in find
ing.
Not so bad-looking, after all, in spite
of his seyen-and-thirty years, ne could
not but tell himself as he stood there.
Dark brown hair, waved at the ends;
bright hazel eyes; a clear complexion
albeit somewhat touched with brown
and square chin, cleft with deep
dimple in the centre. An old bachelor,
but as yet not irremediably so. While
there is life there is hope, and tine ag-
gravated torments Of life in boarding
house were slowly but surely driving
him toward his destiny.
Old Mrs. Grimshaw, the landlady,
was at the head of the vesper banquet
ing table, pouring decoction of weak
tea into an array of Clipped stone.china
cups. as Mr.. Merrion entered. She
greeted him with happy smile.
"0f course, Mr.. MerriOn," she said,
you're quite delighted to see how fine
ly we have got along cleaning your
roomp
"No, ma'am, I'm nOtw our hero
made answer gruflly. 81 regard house
cleaning as an invention of the Evil
One. and | don't care who knows it,"
The assembled gentlemen of the es-
tablishment murmured unanimous con.
sent; the assembled ladies rolled up
their eyes and wagged their teaspoons
in pious horror.
"Dear mel' sighed the landlady, show
peculiar men are! My dear departed
Grimshaw never breathed word of
objection to spring cleaning; in fact,
he used to help me whitewash and pa
per the walls with his own hands!'
"And he died, didn't he, ma'am?"
interrOgated MerriOn.
"Yes. he died." said Mrs. Grimshaw,
"but it was of gout in the stomach, at
the age of lifty-two."
"AhT" said Mr.. Merrion sepulchrally
"And there's no saying how much
longer he might have lived, if it hadn't
been for spring cleaning
Nothing of the kind" cried Mrs.
Gr'' shaw Indignantly, and she began a
detailed account of the symptoms and
signs which had accompanied the last
end of the deceased Grimshaw to the
ladies Immediately around her, under
viii h Mr.. Merrion swallowed his tea
and effected an escape.
"a man must be made of cHst.iron
to endure this sort Of thing much long
err" said he to himself, strolling out
into the fresh May air. Il won't con-
tinue solitary, alone in the worlds
GO; procession, any longer. I'll be.
, ~ umarried man."
M. t..ucks off, in a cosy little old
-sIivned house, whose original self OF
tt1 brick was nearly concealed by
wings, additions and bay-windows all
covered with etcreeper, wisteria
and brown-stemmed honeysuckle dwelt
a pretty young widow, sweet voiced,
rosy and passing fair to look upon.
r'll propose to Mrs. Tyson" said our
hero. "And I'll do it at oncep
y Mrs. Tyson was not at home, but the
servant maid who opened the door was
quite certain that, if Mr.. Merrion
would only walk in and wait few
minutes, her mistress would return.
So Mr.. Merrion walked in to the sun.
ny room where the pussy-cat lay purr-
ing on the rug before the fire, and a
window.stand full of daffodils and
primroses made the air sweet, aud the
widows open portfolio, with sheets of
lavender paper strewn about and tiny
gold pen resting on the rack of the
bronze standish, betokened her most re-
cent occupation.
"An ideal" said Mr.. Merrion. 81
never was quick at turning a sentence,
and it is decidedly awkward to 90
down upon ones knees. I'll write the
eventful question"
And this is what Mr.. Merrion wrote:
"MY DEAR Mrs. TysoN-Will you
marry mep And will you accept my
assurances of sincere devotion, now
and for all ? am not an eloquent man,
but believe / could make any woman
happy who loved me and whom / loved.
OF the latter fact an quite certain,
in regard to yon; of the former, it re.
Drains for you to assure me.
81 shall meet you at Mrs Grimshaw's
tomorrow evening. She has told me
that you are coming to tea. If you
answer the first question / ask you
with Yes | shall know that you love
me; II otherwise, shall not press my
suit Yours truly,
JoHS MFRRIoN, i