Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1884-03-26
WOMAN AND HOME.
A Happy Family, Though Not In o
geological Garden.
Gail Hamilton and the Cariyies
Decorative Hints, GastrOnoM- .,
zeal Suggestions and
Fashion Notes.

lne pack parlOr ana ieSV. 'S"kA0
learn by experience, and he was no eSceptlon
to the common rule.
He Law down. and crossed his feet with
parade hardly justi6able under the clrcum-
stances His wife came in and saw nm.
"Why, Lot Skinner" she exclaimed III
ever heard of the like! Lying down ON tna1
new sofa with your boots on, and Oh, my
goodness! your head on that lace tidy haa
done up only last week You are tne mios'
inconsderate man ever saw III my HE!
Mr.. Skinner got up and his wife smoothed
out the tidy and rearranged it.
THE idea of anybody putting heaH on
that tidy" said Mrs. Skinner, VINO hao no
intention of using slang. Il did suppose you
had more sense"
81 used to have" said Mr.. Skinner, good
naturally. "Ya-a-a-h. l could take a nap II
could find place to drop down. Aa-a-ah.
s'You had better read your bible," said MIS-
Skinner She was a good, uncomtortaole
woman, so clean and neat and orderly that
she made her family wretched with her 90
nestle drill.
Something called Mrs. Skinner off then,
and when she came back Mr.. Skinner was
gone. She sat down and took book, when
thought struck her, and she bounded from
her chair as if it had been cannon ball.
Yes, it was Just as she had feared; her nus
band had gone up stairs, and she found MN
stretched out on the bed, on top OF whlte
counterpane, his grizzly gray head sunk deep
into q white, starched pillow-sham, "l0n
these words embroidered III the centre:
"Sleep sweet, beloved"
He was not only asleep, but snoring, with
look OF sweet content on his wlde-opeh
mouth.
"L-o-t S-k-i-n-n-e-r!"
He cot I'D in a manner that would have
done credit to gyInnast, and stood staring
at the fearful hollow il the bed and the
wrinkled dent in the pillow-sham.
Il declare forgot" he said, looking very
foolish. Alice, haven't l place where can
lay my head:"
Don't talk nonsense" said his wife
sharply. The idea Of q sober man going TO
bed with his boots on
would you rather I'd get -"
SD 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
suppose - ungraciously Il can take
off the quilt, and the shams, and
let you have your nap here,
though it's wicked, that's what it is; to sleep
Sunday. It's bad example to set to the
children, Lot, and you know it"
But am so sleepy" answered her hus-
band; my head is as heavy as lead, and l
cannot keep my eyes OPEN"
'Laziness! sheer lazness" said his wife
sharply.
Mr.. Skinner went down stairs and disap-
peared. The last words his wife heard him
say were that there was rest for the weary,
but she was picking up the embroidery on the
1nisused sham with PIN and did not heed
him. When she went down stairs he was not
in sight and she busted herself with getting
dinner, which on Sunday took the place of
supper and thought no more about him.
She was a distinguished woman distin-
cuished in the town where she lived as being
the cleanest housekeeper in it. No girl could
lie found neat enough to live with her; all the
notices in her house were to the effect that
cleanliness is akin to godliness. She busted
every article of furniture in the house several
times day; she scrubbed so often that the
children had chronic diphtheria; she scrubbed
so clean that at last she scrubbed through
her kitchen 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.
It's air was that of tomb. After it had
been opened to company for an afternoon,
the children went round with fannels about
their Threats and drank ginger tea. It was
the handsomest parlor in the community,
t7o, and had the family pictures and their
marriage certificate framed and hung up
there
When dinner was ready-and it was good
dinner, too, for Mrs. Skinner was a notable
cook-she asked the children where their
father was.
They did not know.
Tl,iS vol chr y,aI
closely, but they had not seen which way he
went when he passed through the room.
didn't he say where he was goingw she
asked wonderingly, for Mr.. Skinner never
went out on Sundays with his family.
"He said he was going where he'd have
more peace" said little Harry Skinner
"Well, we won't wait dinner for him." said
his wife, and they sat down to eat.
But spell seemed to have fallen upon
them, and when the dinner was over and
cleared away, and they were in the sitting
room with their books, there was a sense of
dreary loss, and Mrs Skinner sat with the
bible open on her lap, and wondered why he
had gone out and remembered that he had
looked queer.
1t was in consonance with her habits of
living that she got up in the middle of these
speculations to catch a wandering and be-
"Strange!" she said, as it grew dark. 'I'll
take the children and go down to his mothers
and see if he is there, and if he is, I'll just
give him piece Of my mind"
But he was not there, and his mother said
Lot had looked badly the last time she saw
him. and she thought he seemed worried
hoped it wasn't business troubles.
No, it wasn't business troubles; Mrs. Skin
ner knew that, and she began to wonder if
she had cleaned her husband out of his mind.
It came over her with sudden force that she
had been in the habit of driving him from pill
lar to post at railroad speed, and at the end
of o broom or dust-brush. He actually
found no rest for the sole of his foot in his
own mousse It might have worked upon his
nervous system until he had become suddenly
insane. Horrible thought! he mlght nave
committed suicide.
She hurried home with the children. All
was gloom. She went to his bureau to look
for his razor 1t was the only fire arms be
Dossessed-it was gone!
Then Mrs. Skinner broke down and cried
and the children cried, and it was indeed q
scene Of desolation, when suddenly the door
Of that horrible parlor opened, and an ap
parition--it was Mr.. Ski lner hin1self-stood
before them looking very sheepish.
II oversight myself" h. said in meek
apn1ogetlc tone, looking at Ine CLOCK.
~ LIQUID say you did," answered his wife
sand the dinner is all eaten up, but I'll fix
you up something NICE" and she went out
taking the children with her.
How much Of it Mr.. Skinner ever knew il
is impossible to say, but there was an imme
date and satisfactory change that at frs
amazed and then delighted him. He could
lie down anywhere when he wa.
tired and his wife would throw {
shawl over him, and leave hin
in peace. He has even been seen to lie dowr
on the sofa in the parlor where he took hi
Rip Van Wrinkle sleep, and nobody disturbed
him. Mrs. Skinner was at heart woman o.
sense, and when she realized that one hair o.
that grizzly-gray head was worth more thar
all the pillow-shams in the world to her, sht
put the last one away in the company Of {
demented assortment of s1perfuous tides