San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-05-04

big load of fine hickory had been piled up
in close proximity to the tools Of decima-
ton.
Mr.. Mouser was all excitement. He
| passed by his amused wife with important
disdain, and scarcely gave himself time
| to devour his dinner, he was SO eager to
be at work.
''Nothing more, thanks" he replied, as
| his wife wished to replenish his cup.
| Rising, he FASTENED to handle his pets
with an ardor that caused LiZbeth to
smile knowingly as she watched him pick
out the very smallest and most slender
| cord sticks.
This was a great mistake on Mr..
| Mouser's part. He should have tackled
the difficult ones first, on the simple but
fruitful theory that custom would have
sweetened his toll with the balm of
greater ease.
Ny! how the saw rented and the alb
breviated sticks tumbled to the groundi
Still Lizbeth, who was peeping with
| laughter trimming eyes, noticed that at
the third cord stick work seemed to
slacken just little, but seven were
finished, and Mr.. Mouser came in, de-
| claring he felt glorious.
The second day Mr.. Mouser remained
at table trifie longer. Four cord sticks
in broken lengths licked the dust, how
| ever.
Third day-Mr Mouser took time to
glance over The Daily News after dinner
Record: Three cord sticks.
"Lizbeth," said he, 81 think I've been
cheated in the saw jack. 1t is not put to-
gether on as practical plan as l was led
| to believe. 1t wriggles."
r.. l..
dinner extensively. He smoked his pipe
and read the paper. He glanced over his
monthly magazine until dark, and then
started up, exclaiming:
"Mercy! how short the days arer'
Mrs. Mouser enjoyed the situation in
| tensely, but said never word.
Fifth day-Mr. Mouser rose with a
sense of injustice resting upon him. All
day he was haunted by the outrageous fate
| that made him the owner Of saving
jack.
"My dear, we require more wood than
usual today and tomorrow, washing and
ironing days. you know" said Mrs,
Mouser as soon as he got home.
81 never saw anything like the way you
women manage to consume fueln' and
| Mr.. Mouser grabbed his hat and strobe
fell before the savage manipulation of the
saw, while Mr.. Mouser's snarling kept
excellent time to the wild motions of the
sawyer
With crash he sent the saw flying
over the woodpile. This was too much
His wife was a brute to expect him to
work like a slave during the few mo
ments he could cali his own free from
business drudgery. But if he gave up he
would never hear the last of it. Oh, If
he could only get rid of that sawjack.
A long time he pOndered, at last smile
of JOY illuminated his face. That night,
after his wife had retired, Mr. MOuser
slipped out and carried that hated green
object to the front gate. Presto, in the
morning the corpus deficit would be gone.
The highway was full of robbers, who
would steal anything and everything.
He would make a big fuss about the
loss, but take good care not to buy a
second sawjack.
He slept the sleep of the just until
about o'clock in the morning 1t was
still dark, but his anxiety to assure him.
self of the loss of his trouble caused him
to sneak out and reconnoiter The saw
jack was still there. Mr.. Mouser whis-
time enough still between this hour and
daylight for theft to be committed" he
muttered. 1t was the voice of Mrs. Mouser
that awakened him in time for breakfast.
He glanced out of the window the first
thing. Oh, how brightly the sun shone,
and the sawjack cleaned up at him in
all its verdant beauty. No robber hand
had carried it away. A fearful sigh
escaped the Mouser bosom.
''You must saw some wood for me be-
fore you go, dear" said his wife.
'What. more woodY'
eyes, dear; recollect you only sawed
one stick last evening"" rejoined Mrs.
Mouser meekly, but wicked CLEAN of
mischief played about her eyes and
mouth.
Mr.. Mouser ignored her reply, and
fastened to town with his pretty tools
with vigor born of awful fury but way
saving jack must 60!
Where? whence? how?
Mr.. Mouser was a man of resources.
Twelve O'Clock, midnight. A burglarish
darkness and silence brooded around as
man stole hence from his couch, and,
grabbing his trousers, left cozy bedroom.
A little later the only other active Great
ure about, a feline prima donna, might
have witnessed sorry sight: solitary
man marching downward, clutching in his
strong right hahd beautifully painted
green saving jack.
Soon he returned. The saving jack,
where was it!
Mr.. Mouser rose that morning in most
delightful frame of mind
"Lizbeth, my dear little Lzbeth, " he
L..