The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1884-05-30
AN ALLOWANCE.

We have been married Just five years,
Lawrence and |. Five happy years, /
was going to say. But have they been
so very happy.
Then all alone by myself though I
am, | blush at the troublesome doubt,
and putting away my sewing, snatch
little Arthur from his building blocks
and hug him till his face grows purple.
Does Artie love mamma ?" 1 say,
with a mothers longing to hear the
lisping assurance again and again from
baby's lips.
"Ess, me lubs pretty mamma" re-
plies my tiny son, stopping just long
enough to say so, and then hurrying
back to his blocks in a most business
like and masculine manner.
Presently, struck by a sudden
thought, he says looking at me in a
sweetly coaxing way:
please, MANN, buy Artis some 'ub-
Der boots to-day"
"Oh, my precious, / cannot to-day,
you must wait a little longer"
'But, mamma, de SHOWS coined now,
an 90 said Artie sood hab de boots to
do out snowballin'."
He says it with a grieyed trembling
of his lip and reproach in his dark eyes,
that breaks my heart. i cannot answer
at once, for the choking lump in my
throat forbids speech, and Artie climps
up to the window to gaze out on the
snowy prospect.
"Oh, mamma, |" he screams, as soon
as he has settled himself in a new posi-
ton, "De boys is building a snow
man, an Bobby Lee is helpin' en-, an
Bobby's dot new 'ubber boots on. Oh,
mammal tan't 90 Diet Avtie's boots to-
day."
This second appeal almost breaks me
down. / know that Bobby's fathers
salary is less by two hundred dollars
by my Lawrence's and the Lees have a
larger family than we. Before | can
answer, Ellen comes in with the baby
in her arms. She is sulky and the little
one fearful.
Il wish yed take the baby ma am.
She's awakened that cross there's no
plasin' her, an besides I've work enough
to do without being bothered lookin' af-
ter a young one"
She says it impudently. and / feel re-
sentful. but / remember that she has
asked d dozen times for her wages,
now two months overdue, and feel il
impossible to rebuke the insolence of
her manner.
She is back in the room in half an
hour with the butchers bill, which she
hands me silently but impressiyely.
And hardly has she LEFT it before the
grocer sends IL his monthly account.
Ellen lays it on the shelf where | have
put the other. She knows Lawrence
will pay those bills tomorrow as usual,
so she takes the opportunity to say
"Whin yer askin' the master to settle
THIN, I'd like We TO get the money that's
due me mann"
/ do not answer, for how can | hum
BILE myself to tell her that | have asked
again and uselessly, and although /
shall nerve myself and make the effort,
feel that it will probably be in vain
this time, too.
Ellen comes in again, and I hardly
dare to look around. knowing this is the
time in the month when bills are prone
to arrive. But it is only an innocent
looking letter this time.
Prom Aunt Emma" / say, and as /
take it from the envelope, q crisp i've
dollar bill falls on my lap. She sends
it, she says, for me to buy myself a lit
tie birthday gift.
"Oh, Artie, my boy, you shall have
the rubber boots to-day. By and by,
when Ellen has time to look after baby,
we will go ont and get them"
Artie executes d wild war-dance OF de-
light, which euliyens his baby sister to
such a degree, that she cheerfuily con-
SCENTS to be tied into q little chair =
placidly watch his gambols.
I am as pleased as ne and smile
idiotically at tile toeless stockings 4 ann
darning, as if they too were grlnning
with rapture.
But my pleasure is short-lved. Ellen
comes again, vexeda at the frequent ring
A2.