The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1884-01-18
very foolish. "Alice. haven't / got a
place where can lay my head?"


"Would you rather I'd get
"pd rather you'd get some common
sense" she said "If you must sleep
in the daytime. why there's an old
lounge down in the kitchen; no one
will disturb you there Or, l sup
can take OFF
the guilt, and the shams, and let you
have your nap here, though its wicked
that's what it is TO sleep Sunday. It's
a bad example to set to the children,
and you know it,"
"But am SO sleepy answered her
husband, 'my head is as heavy as lead
and ! cannot keep my eyes open."
"Laziness SHEER fazinessl" said his
wife sharply.
Mr.. Skinner went down stairs and
disappeared. The last words his wife
heard him say were that there was rest
for the weary but she was picking up
the embroidery Oh the mis-used sham
with a pin, and did not heed him
When she went down stairs he was not
in sight and she busted herself in get
ting dinner. which on Sunday took the
place of supper, and thought no more
about him.
She was a distinguished woman; dis
tinguished in the town where she lived.
as being the cleanest housekeeper in it,
No girl could be found neat enough to
live with her; all the mottoas in her
house were to the effect that cleanli-
ness is akin to godliness. She busted
every article of furniture in the house
several times every day; she scrubbed
so often that the children had chronic
diphtheria; she scrubbed so clean that
at last she scrubbed through her kitch-
en- floor into the cellar, and was nearly
lost to the community. 1t was per-
petual warfare between her and dirt.
The front parlor was never opened to
the family, and although Mr.. Skinner
had furnished it he had never sat down
in it a moment since. Its air was that
of tomb. After it had beeh opened
to company for an afternoon, the chill
dren went round with fannels about
their throats and drank ginger tea. 1t
was the handsomest parlor in the CON-
munity, too, and had the family pic
lures and their marriage certificate
framed and hun, VI ther4,
When dinner was ready-and it was
good dinner, too, for Mrs. Skinner
was notable cook--she asked the chill
dren where their father waa
They did not know.
This seemed strange; she questioned
them closely but they had not seen
which way he went when he passed
through the room.
didn't he say where he was going?''
she asked, wonderngly, for Mr., Skin
ner never went out on Sundays with
out his family.
"He said he was going where he'd
have more peace" said little Harry
Skinner.
"Well, we won't wait dinner fol
him." said his wife, and they sat dowr
| to eat.
But spell seemed to have fallen up
on them, and when the dinner wa:
over and cleared away, and they were il
the sitting-room with their books, ther,
was a sense of dreary loss. and Mrs
Skinner sat with the Bible open on he
lap, and wondered why he had gon,
out and remembered that he had locke,
queer.
1t was In consonanco with her hab
its Of living that she got up in the mid
die of these speculations to catch
wandering and belated dy and induc
him to be annihilated.
"Strange!" she said, as it grew dark
"I'll take the children and go down t
his mothers and see if he is there, an
if he is, I'll just give him a piece Q
my mind"
But he was otthere, and his moth
er said Lot had looked badly the las
time she saw him, and she thought h
seemed worried; hoped it wasn't bus
ness troubles.
No, it wasn't business troubles; Mr.
Skinner knew that, and she began t
wonder if she had cleaned her husban
out of his mind. 1t came over her wit
sudden force that she had been in tn
habit of driving him from pillow
post at railroad speed and at the end {
a broom or dust brush. He actual
found no rest for the sole of his foot
his own house. 1t might have workc
upon his nervous system until he ha
become suddenly insane Horrib
thought He might have committt
suicide.
She hurried home with the childre
, AL was gloom. She went to his b
] reau to look for his razor. 1t was Il
only fire arms he possessed-it w
gone!
, Then Mrs Skinner broke down ar
. cried, and the children cried, and it W
indeed a scene of desolation, when su