The Penn's Grove record., 1885-09-12

II don't thing I much admire sub
s~tantiallties, Amy-that is only another
name for heaviness; and marriage 1t
appears to me, is somewhat heavy and
wearisome-not in your case, | know,
nv love-" / add hastily, fearing some
personal allusion may be suspected.
Now, my dear boy" answers Amy,
removing her hat, by which | infer
that she kindly intends favoring me
with a good deal of sisterly counsel,
don't be drawly-you do drawl aw-
fully, you know, and a wife would very
soon shake that all out of you; | would
if Charlie could spare me to stay with
you for a little while. Don't pretend
to shudderl'
"Certainly not" 1 reply meekly, hap
Ply that she has mistaken the reality for
the imitation.
"Well," continues my affectionate
relative. taking in at a practised glance
the general appearance of the dining
room in which We are sitting, "you
don't seem to understand that servants
are insufficient to make a comfortable
home; besides this, you want some n
to take care of and direct it ALL"
And also, L presume, to take care
Of and direct me-" | suggest.
"Precisely-you most of all. Now
this sideboard, for instance is a splen-
did pieceof furniture, and those bronzes
are simply magnificent; but observe
this" says my busting little sister, ad-
vancing to the first named article, and
very carefully writing "D-u.s-t" on the
surface of it-''and this"-proceeding
to one of the bronzes and most consul
erately wiping the o of the warrior
it represents. "WellP" she says inter-
negatively.
l am at a loss for an answer; so | only
reply
"Am [ to admire your caligraphy,
my dear2 That word is written very
nicely, though perhaps a trifie too large
still great allowance must be made for
the novelty of the materials you have
used; and as to that warlike individual
you rather ~unpleasantly suggest the
idea of his having a cold i n his head"
Amy deems my remarks an unworthy
answer, and continues as If | had not
spoken.
NON hitC lung anu LAO ohOlU VI hAA
this is that you must get a Wife"
L rise, stand with my back to the
fire, and speak with the most unusual
decision.
81 decline to do that, Amy"
There is something in my tone which
seems to end the discussion, for my
sister, though looking slightly surprised
refrains from urging the point further.
She shifts her ground.
"Well," she says, with the air of one
making a compromise, "do the next
best thing then, and engage a lady
housekeeper."
/ still demur.
'tYour last suggestion is merely a
f|orerunner to the first alternative you
mentioned-particularly to the mind Of
ady-bousekeepers," L remark despon-
IDENTIFY.
mot II he mind of a genuine lady
housekeeper, answers my sister, with
a world of scorn in her tone. Let US
arrange 1t now, Monte" she continues
theoretically. 81 have it'll You will
be going to Paris next week, you say.
| undertake that when you return you
shall see a lady installed here who will
look after your interests trustworthy
superior gentlewoman who will make
your home quiet a different sort of a
place altogether"
So it is arranged that during my alb
sence in the sister capital | I'M to be
provided with a superior gentlewoman
to superintend my establishment in
the future.
If an idea is distastefuI to me, I usu.
ally try to Danish it as speedily as pos
sible, differing in this respect from most
people. On this occasion l succeed so
we'll that during my stay in Paris l be-
lleve it entirely slips my memory. 1t
is only when / am homeward-b bound
that | think of it, and the recollection
does not enhance the delights of cross
ing.
| suddenly remember that l am ar
irving a train earlier than I am expec-
ted, and l fear that by doing SO | shall
take the superior gentlewomann at a
disadvantage. AS l rattle up to the
door in a cab, just in time for a late
breakfast, | leok up a~nxiously at the
house, thinking that l may catch a
glimpse of my acquisition at n of the
windows. Not so, however.
When the servant opens the door. L
ask immediately
HAS the lady arrived yet, James2"
Eyes, sir; but, not expecting you I'M
til the evening, she has gone for a walk
before breakfast-she often does. SIR"
''Just 80. I'll not wait for breakfast
James, but have it at once." l say, re-
solving mentally to make my apologies
for so doing when the gentlewoman
presents herself.
Accordingly breakfast is laid. I
know not If | am tired of French edi-
bles, or if the meal looks unusually
tempting; but l feel just in the mood
to do ample justice to it. After telling
James that / shall require nothing more
/ proceed to take sone steaming coffee,
of which l seem to stand in need after
my nights travelling. That done, l COM
mence an attack on the dish nearest me
which happens to be ''goodly to the
eye" At this moment / hear a knock
at the door, and the subsequent sweep.
ing of a woman's skirt along the en-
trance hall and up the stairs, by which
| presume my acquisition has arrived,
and gone to her room to remove her
walking attire. In adherence to my
text of not waiting. 1 do not allow the
circumstance to interfere with my re-
past, but begin to be active with my
knife aud fork. But, after having tas-
ted the morsei it conveyed there, I
pause.
/ have frequently heard of memories
and associations being recalled by GER
tain strains of music to certain people
others. particular scents will re-
vive particular ~recollections; but never
until now do l realise that the very
same remarks may apply to the sense
of taste, for suddenly the flavor of the
pie | have commenced reminds me-ot
what2 OF what, in the name of won.
ders that is puzzling, does it remind
me? l put down my knife and fork,
look at the delicious compound 1xedly,
and Try to think it out. l endeayor to
support my pet theory ola prior eXis-
tence by concluding that l have par
taken of this excellent dish during a
former life. If so, and this edible is
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