Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1886-09-15
" BLUE MONDAY"


the terrestrial ball, it was this thirteenth
day of September, 49,.
The cquinoctal had come before its
time, with rush of angry rain borne on
the wings o! morning wind; the ktch-
en- chimney smoked rancorously, and the
scutte leaked a steady "drip, drip, drip"
directly over the roses and tulips of the
bedroom carpet.
"a regular spell Of weather." said Mr.
CrayGsh, chuckling, as he shaved him
self, with one of the children playing
horse with his suspcnders, and the other
packing differentiated marbles into the
toe of his slipper.
But Mr.. Csaytish, as his wife scornful-
ly remarked, would chucklc at anything.
81 am sure l don't know what is to
become CT me-" said she, sorrowfuliy.
"With Bridget gone, and the lange out
of order, and this terrible rain, and not
q washerwoman to be had for love or
MONEY. And your Aunt Pamela writing
tn t She is coming here to spend the win
ter, and my report not yet written for
the Woman's Elevation Society, and
Mrs. Ponsonby sending word that she
shall expect me to give an aesthetic tea,
or literary breakfast, in honor of young
Lord Ernest Elbcron, now that he is
here gath ring material for lis book on
'Woman's Upward Progress.
'IIang progrcss!" said Mr.. Crayfsh,
emptymg the marbles out OF his slipper
! toe.
eyes, that's just like you, Lcandcr,"
said Mrs. Crayfsh, frctfully. "If you
had your way, you would tread us all
under foot, like inferior beings"
''ln tie mcantimo," said Crayfsh, "Td
like my breakfast"
And his wife went slowly and despond-
emily down stairs, wondering how she
should get worl to the plumber about
the range.
But the milkman, opportunely present
ing himself, volunteered to leave an order
at the plumbers shop.
81 must get something done on the re-
port to-day" she pondercd, as she sliced
up potatoes for frying. "1rs Edge.
worth, from Chicago, is to be at to-
morrow's meeting, and Oh, dcar." as
the knife slipped, inaicting sharp little
cash on her finger. 81 knew there was
destined to be blue Monday when the
decorated lamp-shadc cracked, all of
itself, before daylight this morning!'
And Mrs. Crayfsh, forgetting all about
her Elevation" and "Ams," burst into
tears, as any milk-maid might have
done.
The range obstinately declined to cook;
the chimney poured clouds of smoke
down into Mrs. Crayfsh's face; and the
family brcakfastod upon yesterdays oat-
meal, with little milk.
as this nsthctc2' said Mr.. Crayfsh;
COR is it literary3"
"Lcandcr, how can you1" sobbed his
wife.
"Tll stop myself and jog that
plumbers memory" slid Mr.. Crayfsh,
good humoredly. Don't fret, Garry
1t will be all right"
81 wish you would not call Inc Garry,
when my name is Cardinal" said Mrs.
Crayfi,h.
Just at noon the door-bel rang.
"Who is it7" shriekcd Mrs. Crayfsh
to the little Crayf hes, who were stretch
ing their nccks out OF the front window.
"It's a young man, with black
leather bag, ma" shouted back the
youthful scions of the race.
"That everlasting plumber" said Mrs
Crayfsh.
"pll teach him!'
And with her kitchen apron swallow
ing her in its sombre folds, and her hair
all bristing in porcupine papers. Mrs.
Crayfsh hurried to the door,
"Do address Mrs. Lcandcr Cray
fish" began the young man.
81 should rather think you didm said
Mrs. Crayish, tartly. "And if this is
the way you intend to transact business,
want nothing more to do with youw
81 am very sorroy, ma'am, but"
II dare sayv' curtly interrupted
Mrs. Crayf,h. "But don't want to
listen to any excuses. BE so very good,
if you please, as to come down stairs at
once and get to work, without further
less of time"
And she led the way down TO the
kitchen, talking volubly as she went.
But before she could explain the man.
fold shortcomings Of the delinquent
range, the door-bcll sounded fer the
second time, loud and lcng, and Mrs.
Crayfsh was obliged to hurry up stairs
once more.