The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1886-08-04
JOHNS WIFE.

uOIlN - WILL Il.
So you think my wife is beautifull"
said my friend, John Brown.
When John asked this question we
were sitting together coziy in the room
he c.lled "his den,' because, as he SAID,
he had things in its as duty, disordercd
aud unarrangcd as he pleased. However,
tbs was little delusipn in my friend S
mind; have always had keener obser-
vation Of tlaes than John, and as 1
looked around his cozy study saw in
dications that, though lis papers were
left religiously untouched, and if he laid
book down On its face open it would
stay there a month und:sturbed, sti
feminine hand stole in when the grand
lord and master of this confusion was
absent and applied many deft touch
and many Il gentle whisk of the duster,
30 keeping his disorder endurable to HIM
self while he fondly imagined that he
was keeping it uncomfortable to every one
else. There we sat, l say, before his
cozy, open fire, for John always would
have little wood for his den, cost what
it might, when john aked me if I
thought his wife beautiful.
"Why, no." said frankly.
"But," said John, looking little SUR
prised, II saw you look at her at table
with glances call precious near admira,
ton, my boy"
"Why, yes" said I, "that is true,
too"
"Then," said John, after few mo
ments' thoughtful pull at his pipe, ''you
say she is not beautiful"
no" said l.
s'Passable, eh" said John, looking at
me with the kind of alt.st;c sarcasm in
his face which l remembered his having
cultivated so successfully in our college
days.
mo" said I again, with provoking
ca!mness and as much Indifference as |
could assume
''He To- cried John, waking up a lit
: tie; 'perhaps you'll tel me now what
she is, if neither b autiful nor pa>sable
for l don't see anything left but hideous,
and if you say that I'll thruw you out of
the window. Now can tell you she is
beautiful
"Yes,' i'll I aga'n, with the most
studied listessness. Il believe you
"Come, now," said John sitting a
little straight;r, "drop that drawl you
used to think so fine when you were a
senior, and speak out. You would sec
she is lovely if you conld know her
WELL"
every likely" said I, "but you know
have not seen her at ALL"
"But," said John, opening his eyes
very wide, "that was my wife at the
table. l introduced you"
"Exa; tly," said I; II could see small
bit OF her."
Now, I must say tn It my friend John
Brown was an exec lent fellow and a
very fair scholar in college by dint of
prodigious digging, which same splendid
application (for, after all, what can the
greatest genius do without labor2J had
gwen him an honorable success in bust
ness; but he had not very quick mind,
though very safe one. And so when I
remarked that had seen but small bit
Of his wife, he simply stared at me in
silence. After mu.ing myself with his
vacant countenance and wide open eyes,
began to cxpound.
"Suppo e, my dear fellow" I sad,
"that picture of the Madonna were set
before me all ca efully curtained but a
square inch of the forehead. Now, tell
me, will you, you who stood-what num-
Der was it in our class2 something out
rageou,ly high-could say whether that
Madonna were beautiful or not2 Now.
/ have looked at your wife through the
square-inch hole OF one session at table
and, if even the complexion of a Diana
peepcd through that hole, how on earth
could I tell what the whole would appear
viewed by day and night, in pariof and
study and kitchen, and at all meals?
Don't you see that, as said, | have seen
but bit of your amiable wife, and can
say no more than that the square inch of
the forehead is we'll painted"
"Ah," said John, settling back, "you
are the same old philosopher that you
used to be when you stood in the class
where was it? Somewhere outragcously
low. Well, tell you. my boy, that was
lucky sprawl for me-"
'Sprawl2" said I.
EYES," said John, "the tumble which
land"d me at my wife's feet in more
senses than one. Didn't ever tell you
about it!' said my friend, seeing my
look of surprise and curiosity. "Wcll,
it isn't much of a story after all, only,
you know, it made me supremely happy,
and all that. Why, you remember, I
never could stand on my feet if there
was a possibility of slipping, and this
event was all egregious ha!f-somersault
whichI performed at a country board
ing-house where was taking vacation.
There were two or three girls in the
house, and some young men, and one
day when out for picnic I went back
quite chivalrously for bucket of milk
that had been forgotten, and the Others
waited Tor me at the foot of little hill.
Now, as I came down, my proclivity be-
ing strongly in unison with the declivity
of the hill, what shoald I dc but stnb
nv toe p.tch over quite serenely on my