The Penn's Grove record., 1886-05-08

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''Out with it, sir. Never spoil a joke
for relations sake"
And he wouldn't have caught a
Tartar, but been a happy old bach.
Lord, how I wish l was y
"Are you in earnest, sir Z"
"In earnest, madam"
"Then perhaps we'd better part"
"Part it is, then"
1.-THE sooner the better, too.
"My sentiments exactly, madam"
To-day"
"Why not %
"Where will you go 7"
81? | shan't 90. l shall stay here"
"But you don't nean to say you're
going to turn me out of house and
home | never would believe that OF
you, George Graham.
at isn't | that is turning you out.
Suppose you stay; you've no money 10
pay the rent, or run the affair. 1t costs
something to keep house, l can tell you:
I've found 1t out by bitter experience"
"But where can / goP You know l
haven't a relative left me-"
"You should hove thought of thatbe
fore you proposed parting. IT'S not my
business to look you up a home"
81 don't know whose else it is. You
might do as much as that for your own
wife"
For my wife I'd do a great deal
more. But you are not my wife any
more; only the legal tie remains to be
severed, and I'll apply for a divorce at
once"
"And disgrace us both ?"
But what can a fellow dop Now
I've got used to having a home l want
one, and once free from you, there are
dozens of girls thatll be glad to take
up with me, careless, good-for-nothing
scapegrace as am"
and a pretty life they'll lead you,
too"
at can't be worse than that you've
led NE the last six months. BOUNDS !
hut | have been a fool to bear it so
long. Fret, fret, fret, from morning
TIL night. Thank heaven, 1t is over at
last % and he whistled gaily.
You seem to be glad to be rid OF me,
SIR
you've made me glad, madam"
He put ON his overcoat, drew on his
rubbers, and gathered up his hat and
gloves. Was he really going, and with
ous his dinner?
when will you be rea iy to leave,
madam ? L Will order a carriage at any
hour you name.o
You are an unfeeling wretch, George
Graham; you are, and that's the truth.
You might, for ~decency's sake, give me
till tomorrow to pack up my things
and decide what to do"
You can have a week. madam, if
you wish. l thought you were in a
hurry to go. Yes, you may have a
week. Meanwhile, I'll go to a hotel"
And have the whole town talking
about US Why can't you stay at home
just as we'll ?"
because l never like to be in any
one's way.o
But it is your own house, and-and
if you even had any regard for me,
you'd stay till-till Pm gone" Her
voice was not quite as steady as it had
been.
"Well, III stay then. But not now.
| Il come back tonight. It'll be late
when | get In, and-I'n take the spare
chamber till you're gone"
The front door crashed after him in
another moment. He was gone; gone
without his dinner; gone, and not COM
ing back till-nobody knew when, and
then going up stairs to sleep alone.
They had q~uarrelled. They had as
good as parted. They would be d.
yorced. He would get another wife,
and bring her home here, and she would
have to go out alone into the cold,
dreary world and earn her own living.
She didn't know enough about divorce,
poor thing, to think of alimony. And
all this because he neglected to leave
his ''things" in the hall, and she found
fault with him for the said neglect,
Careless husband | Fidgety wife And
because he was careless and she fidgety,
they must live apart
Mrs. Graham looked about her just
then. Everything was neat and order
ly. There was nothing to worry her!
NothingY There was everything. And
she sat down and cried; she who had
been 50 resolute aud defiant only ten
minutes before. But that resolution,
that defiance, had been borne Of anger,
and the anger was all gone now. How
sorry she was she had been so cross
to him, for she had been cross, real
cross, wickedly cross. What il he
had tossed his things any and every
way ? 1t was a mans trick-and-and
here she sobbed outright, he never
had a mother to train him. Poor fell
low, he'd been knocked around from
pill ar to post all his life till he was mar
RED, and now he would have to knock
round again, for of curse he could not
get married right away; no, he would
have to get a housekeeper, and she
would worry the life out of him, and
when he did get married could he ever
| find one who would love him IS she had
and did, yes did the love was there
yet, swelling and overlooking.
she went into the kitchen, hardly
knowing why; driven, perhaps, by the
| force of habit. There stood the table
laid for dinner, and so neatly; the cloth
white and in It's creases, the plates and
glasses shining brightly; knives and
forks polished almost to silver bright
ness. She gave it one look and me-
chanically opened the stove w The
chicken was cooking nicely. George
liked roast chicken better than a fric-
asee, so she had cooked it in that way.
The potatoes and the turnips were
dancing merry jlgs in the pot, and the
tea kettle was softly hummlng. The
mince pie stood on the hearth warming
itself quietly, and exhallng a spicy
odor that was tempting ever to a dys'
peptic stomach.
"Such a nice dinner, and no m to
eat it l wish Il wish-I-I hadn't
been 50 cross to him. 1 began 1t, and
kept it up, too; he wasn't cross first; he
held out till l made him mad. o,
dearl l wish-I do wish it didn't Worry
me so to see things lying around. ]
wish he was more careful, thoughtful
such a dear, good fellow as he is
about everything else. Never scolds
when bills come In, like Hannah Ben
toms husband. Mercyl l don't see how
she does live with hum. And hei
always giving me change, too. Ineyei
hardly have to ask for a cent; | dom
know what l should do, if l had K
manage al Carrie Stanford does to gel
a dollar out Of Jim. If l had such 4
man. I'D leave him. if had to WOrl