The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1886-10-08

| '''e' VI s'ehiilS Cneerlully among
the fresh Goals, and Fanny could not
resist the temptation OF pausing a
moment to warm her chilled fingers,
and watch the greenish purple spires
OF l1ame shoot merrily the chimney,
until she heard her husbands voice
calling her imperatively.
Fanny, Fanny! what are you do.
ing?"
ooh, dear!" thought the wife, as she
ran upstairs, III wish Frank wouldn't
be SO cross. He's always in a hurry"
Little Mrs. Chickerly never stopped
to think that the real reason was that
she, his wife, was never Sin hurry"
The needle threaded, the thimble
htted on, an appropriate button was
next to be selected.
ooh, dear, Frank, haven't one the
right sizev
"sew on what you have, then; but
be quick"
But Fanny was quite certain there
was the right button somewhere in her
work-basket, and stopped to search
| for ii.
"There, told you sol" she cried,
triumphantly, holding it up on the
tIlu Ol ner needle.
"Well, well, sew it on quick" said
Mr.. Chicker,y, glancing at his watch
nervously.
"That's just your worrying way,
Frank; as if anybody could sew a but,
ton on well in q hurry. There! my
needle has come unthreaded."
"Oh, Fanny, Fanny" sighed her
husband, fairly out ofpatience at last,
why didn't you do it last night, as
begged of you? ! shall miss the train,
and what little chance we had of a
place in Aunt Elizabeth's s will will be
| sacrificed to your miserable habit OF
being behind hand
Fanny gave him the shirt and began
to whimper little but Mr.. Chickerly
had neither the time nor the incina-
tion to pause to soothe her petulant
manifestation OF grief. He finished
his dressing, caught up his valise with
hurriedlv spoken ".oodby." and
ran downstairs two steps at time
into the street.
"There he goes" murmured Fanny,
"and he's gone away cross with me,
and all for nothing but IL miserable
button. wish there wasn't such q
thing rs button in the world.n'
"A wish which we must misdoubt,
many another wife than Mrs. Chicken
ly has echoed, with perhaps better
reason
Mrs. Chickerly was sitting down to
her little dinner, with II daintily
Drowned chicken, tumbler of currant
Jelly, n curly bunch OF celery ranged
before her, when, to her surprise, the
door opened and i'll walked her lord
and husband.
"Why, Frank. where on earth did
you come from?" cried the astonished
wife.
"From the Office" very coolly an
swered Mr.. Chckerly.
But thought you were off for
Scenersville in such q hurry
81 found myself just five minutes
too late for the train, after having
run all the way to the depot"
ooh, that was too bad"
"Chicllerly smiled little as he be-
gan to carve the chicken"
"1es, ! was alittle annoyed at first;
it did seem rather provoking to be
kept at home by only a shirt button"
'What are you going to do?"
"Why, | shall make a second start.
tomorrow.
"I'll see to it that your breakfast is
ready this time, to the second, and all
your wardrobe in trim" said Fanny,
rather relieved at the prospect OF lie.
trieving her character.
"1ou need not. | have engaged a
room at hotel near the depot
caRt run any more risks
He did not speak unkindly, and vet
Fanny felt that he was deeply dis
pleased with her.
'But, Frank"
ave will not discuss the matter any
further, my dear, ifyou please. Ihave
resolved to say nothing more to you
about reforms. seeit is useless, and
only tends to foster an unpleasant
state OF feeling between us. Shall
help you to some more macaroni?"
Fairly silenced, Fanny ate her din
ner with what appetite was left her.
Three days afterward Mr.. Chickerly
once mere made his entrance, lust at
dusk, valise in hand, while Fanny sat
enjoying the ruddy light OF the coal
fire and the consciousness OF having
performed her duty in the mending and
general renovation OF her husbands
drawerful OF shirts-a lob which she
had long been dreading and postpon-
ing.
"Well, how is Aunt Elizabeth9"
questioned Mrs. Chickerly, when her
husband duly welcomed and greeted,
had seated himself in the opposite
easy-chair.
dead" )" was the brief reply.
"Dead! Oh. Frank! OF her old enc
my, yysg apop'ezyS" 3
"Was her willmade?"
at was. Apparently she had ex-
pected me on the day she herself ap-
pointed; and on my non-arrival on
the only train that stops she sent for
the village lawyer, made her will, and
left all her property to the orphan
asylum in Scenersville, with a few Bit
ter words to the effect that the neglect
OF her only living nephew had induced
her, on the spur of the moment, to
alter her original intention OF leaving
it to him. She died the next morn.
ing"
ooh, Frank, how much was it?"
'"Tcn thousand dollars
There was q moment or two OF ST.
lence, then Mr.. Chickerly added, com
posedIy:
you see, Fanny. how much that
missing button has cost me.' |,
Mrs. Chickerly sat like one condemn
ed by the utterance OF her own con-
science. Not alone the one missing
button, but the scores-nay, hun
dreds-of triiiing omissions, forget
fulness and postponements which
made her life one endless en-
deavor to "catch up" with the trans
piring present, seemed to present
themselves before her minds eve.
What would this end in? Was not the