The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1883-05-31
Mrs. Smither's lnfatuation,

Mrs. Smither's lnfatuation.
Not . Love Story.
To make home beautiful is . duty
Mrs. smithers had always felt it to be so.
ohe mad. therefore, knit tides, embroid-
ereo iamp-rugs. worked paper racks and
taole-cloths, and filled the house with
little womanly nick-nacks Her husband,
Mr.. Smithers, was a solid, respectable
man, who had made money in trade
and could afford to spend it. He had
artistic taste, and scarcely ever opened
. book, except perhaps the Bible of q
Sunday afternoon. It was an old habit
his mother had taught him, and he gem
orally got half through the psalm he
selected before he fell asleep. He could
not have told you the difference be-
tween the masterpiece of great artist
and an auction ''pot-boiler;" but he had,
from dealing in goods for u long while, &C.
qulred certain appreciation of
color in upholstery and caroets.
and he liked to SEQ things
handsome about him. The house
was full OF soft, well-stutfed, puffy chairs
and sofas, with comfortable, low seats:
there were beds into which one sank as
into downy paradise; splendid steam
heater kept up sutnmer-like tempera-
ture all winter. The dining room table.
With its big claw feet, was hospitality
personfied: the side-board, with curly
carvings, held nice, silver water pitch
ers, tea-pots and jugs. On the mantel-
pieces were the orthodox clocks, vases
and bronzes. There were heavy cor
nices above the window curtains, and
they were loopeu back with massive
cords and tassels. All was PERFECTION
at least its owner believed it to be 80:
certainly it. WAS comfortable and costly.
and very snowy.
II like to come home to home like
this" Mr.. Smithers used to saw. ruh.
bling his hands as no stood before the
fire. "There is no nonsense about
it," "'o"'
SO Mrs. Smithers thought herself, un-
til she went one morning to an amateur
lecture ION Taste in Furnishing" When
the speaker, a red-haired young lady in
a purple dress, without wrinkle. like a
pre- RaphaeIite figure, had finished her
lecture, Of which not one word was or.
lglnaI, poor Mrs. Smithers was in de-
spair. Taste was evidently something
she knew nothing about. She had been
proud OF her home; now she felt that
she should be ashamed to let this
purple young. lady enter its doors.
How 'rany things were wrong there
ia toi, Il
bankruptcies, her very chairs. Oh! If
Mr.. Smltfers had but been tnerei
What would he have said? But Mr..
nmthers was away travelling on bust
ness; He would be gone long while:
would he learn while away that his
house was all wrong? He might. Then
1t came like an inspiration to poor Mrs.
Smithcrs that. as her dear S1nithers
never was "mcan about the money"
she night make his house right before
he returned home.
Mrs. Smithers, though she prided
herself on her good taste, was not a lit
erary woman, and fancied that the Ter
ence Shook so often alluded to in the
ply the purple young lady had her own
house furnished and arranged by him.
Mrs. Smithe~s on going home, looked
IN VAIN Tor this famous upholsterer IN
the directory. Finally, she ventured
to ask better informed friend, who
Terence Shook was and where his
Earthly Paradise" that the Durnla
young lady had spoken of, could be found.
Having received the revelation that
the " Earthly Paradise was a book and in
TINS the savings SO often quoted was to
De found Mrs. Smithers, 1T once pro-
cured it from bookseller and sat down
to study it.
Inc result was sucu Il nouse-cleaning
as the world never :aw before. Various
strange men and women, all the servants
and Mrs. Smi,i,ers herself. toiled from
morning until night for six weeks, and
at length on the very eve of her hus-
bands return, Mrs. Srither's delighted
with her success, went through her
home and declared it perfect.
And now carriage drives I'D to the
door, Mrs. Smithers flies down stairs
and In moment quite vanishes in the
recesses Of an enormous ulsteA A trunk
is bumped in to the hall, portmanteau
follows; the door bangs, and Mr.. Smith
crs looks about for his hat-rack with big
mirror. round knobs, and solid umbrei-
Ia stand. long thin table, with rail
at either end meets the eye instead,
t1anked on either side by rigid chair
with a marble seat and marble slabs let
into the bottom. The whole aspect of
the house is ALTERED. The heavy carpets
and broad, silvered rods are taken up
from hall ard staircase. There is no
sign of the register in the polished oak
en- floor The neavy walnut banisters
are gone, and replaced by spindly oak
rails, each one conspicuously fastened
by brass rivet.
"What's the matter? Had fre?'
asked the bewldered gentleman. He
doesn't look very much pleased; but
Mrs. Smithers is confident of the effect
Of the parlors. She glides forward and
draws back the portiers. There is no
door now.
n.n Y9p dirk did, tel! snything had hap;
shall have it all fixed up nicely again.
What was it? Furnace fues evidently
the furnace isn't going. All your pretty
carpets, too?' and he glances down at
the expanse Of polished oak, relieved bv
Turkish rugs, and stops before the man
tel-piece. When he last saw it, it was of
marble, carved deliberately. Now it was
replaced by. one of oak, which ran up to
the ceiling in series of shelves inter-
spersed with small lnoking-giasses.
The portraits Of Mr.. Smither's jolly old
papa and prim looding mamma, which,
in massive gold frames, had filled either
recess had been banished. The por-
traits of the king and queen of the storks.
on long panels, in inch wide frames of
oak and gold. filled their places. This
was too much for Mr.. Smihers. He fell
into a long-legged Eastlake chair, which
stood before q small wood fire, perched
upon pair Of tall brass andirons, and
took ont his pocket handkerchief.
wouldn't have, narfn6 with and
mas pictures. now they are getting so
old, for any money!" said he. "Tell
me all about it SIS
''Oh, the pictures are quite safe. Jere-
miah," said Mrs. SmitEers. "They're
in the bedroom. There amt been any
fire, but found ont that we were furn-
ished all wron--no taste shown at all,
you know-and went to a lecture. and
l really felt ashame /; and how I've
worked to get things perfect before you
came: Don't you think the dado is ele-