Northwest enterprise. [volume] (Anacortes, Wash. Ter.) 1882-1887, 1883-05-12
CONFESSIONS OF HASH EATER.

| CONFESSIONS OF A HASH EATER.
At eight o'clock on the morning ol
the first day of each month l wrote a
check on the Hibernia Bank in favor
of Madame Josephine Aroni for the
sum of forty-eight dollars. l have
thus occupied myself at that hour on
the first of each month during I'll e
past three years. The tritling sum OF
one dollar and a quarter which L am
charged for the gas | usually pay in
cash.
This check seems to afford the Ma
dame a qualification extravagantly dis
proportionate to it's face value. She
delights in lingering it. Itappears to
give her sense of aristocratic
wealth to be holding a check that re
quires her signature across the back
before it will be honored 1t also i'm
presses her with my Importance.
The man who carries check. book is
possessed of a charm that can only
become impotent when death stifiens
his fingers, or his bank of deposit
goes to smash.
l.
when the Madame moves in her pro
fessional hospitable manner into the
breakfast-room ON the morning of the
First, she takes particular pains to
delicately and suggestively parade
my check. l presume this is land
ladylike method of reminding the
others that the First is pay day.
Rt1t n hox Nh Ia
sorrow that the wistful eyes of more
than one wife follow that fiuttering
bit of paper, and i'll concealed sighs
agitate the laces on more than one
deftly padded bosom.
Why is it that the average wife Of
the average man OF business is a hang
er-on, whining dependent, a humili
ated poor relation, and aims begging
pauper, when it comes to her hus-
bands pockets?
As | have passed from the breakfast
room any time within the past
three years 1 have frequently been
shamed, mortified and saddened to
hear shy wife slip out into the hall
after her burly man and ask him in
abiect whisper, Can you give me
just a little change this morning,
dearw And then I, John Quixote,
Bachelor, Secretary of the Associa-
tion for the Relief of Superannuated
Makers of Wax Flowers, and resident
hash eater, in the establishment of
Madame Aroni, fall to thinking, as L
stroll towards the office, of the time
when that pretty creature wore her
orange blossoms and brayely, after
the fashion of her sweet sex, pledged
herself to salaryless life of small
miseries. To a woman of spirit ii
must be decided misery to be pen
sioner on her husbands bounty, at the
mercy Of his capricious benevolence.
Cad, sir, it makes me rejoice that l
never married. Rejoice for the wo-
mans sake, whoever she might have
been How can T. feel sure that l
might not have developed into a do
mestic tyrant?
Who knows better than 1 that
much OF the agreeable manner in
which many married couples conduct
themselves is mere conventional ve-
aeer? Cad, sir, there's many a mar
lied gentleman whose dressing gown
IS a beasts skin, and when he gets in
% it, he also assumes the beasts
growl and savage i'll nature.
When the Wisconsins come laugh
! ing into the dining room, or are seen
costly trotting arm in arm into the
theater. who is to know, save the oc-
cupants of the room next to theirs,
that the sanctity Of their bedchambel
is frequently disturbed by bitter re
vilings; that she is volcano and he
an iceberg.
Yet Mrs. Wisconsin is a great fa-
vorite, of mine. In fact, the title
have written at the top of these pages
leave me free to admit that all of the
ladies, both the "regulars" and
transients whom l have the honor
of meeting under Madame Aroni's
roof, are fayorites of mine. "a
Dear Mr.. Quixote," said Mrs. En-
lily Ardor to me one day; dear Mr.
Quixote, your wig lis our. protection
God bless my soul! To the inno
cent feminine mind does wig signi
fy venerableness and virtue?
The ladies, however, justly place
implicit confidence in my virtue; Their
husband. also appear to place impli
cit confidence in my ,venerableness
These condolences l have never be
trayed. As Secretary of the associa
ton mentioned above, an association
composed mostly of ladies, ! may say
that considerable diplomatic tact il
required. I pretend never to be il