The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1888-10-18

Yes, I'm Mrs. Peter Snow, an editors
wife. | well remember the day when
Mr.. Snow asked me to become his wife.
l confess l liked Mr.. Snow and thinking
it would be fine thing to be the wife of
an editor | said Eyes" as prettily as |
knew how, and became Mrs. Snow. Il
have seen ten years Of married life, and
find my husband 10 be an amiable, good
natured man. He always spends his
evenings at home, and is in that respect
a model man; but he always brings
pile Of exchanges, which is only limited
by the length of his arms, and reads
while patch the knees and elbows Of
his pantaloons and cCaF. After we had
a Quaker meeting of an hours length !
broke the stiffness by asking
"Mr, Snow did you order that spoke
to you about p
"What did you say my dear ?" he asks
after minutes silence.
"Did you order that coal l spoke to
you about
Indeed, my dear, l am sorry, but
forgot all about it. II shall come TO-
morrow
Another hours silence, which is re-
lieved by the baby's crying, and rather
liking a noise of that sort l made no eff
fort to quiet him.
My dear" says Mrs. Snow, after he
has cried minute or so, "you had bet
ter give the baby some catnip tea to
quiet him; he troubles me"
The baby is still. Another hour passed
without breath of noise. Becoming
tired, | take a lamp and retire for the
night, leaving Mr.. Snow so engaged with
his papers that he does not see me leave
the room. Towards midnight he comes
to bed, and just as he has fallen asleep
the badly takes a notion to cry again. i
rise as quietly as possible and try to still
him. Then another baby begins to
scream at the top of his lungs. There is
no other course but to awake Mr.. Snow,
so say
"Mr. Snow Mr.. Snow ~
The third time he starts up and cries,
What, Tom, more copy Z"
As though | was Tom, the little imp
running about the office. replied
tartly
mo, don't want any more copy-I
have had enought of that to last me my
lifetime ! l want you TO see what Tom
my is crying about"
Mr., Snow makes desperate attempt
to arouse himself as Tommy stops to
lake breath he falls to sleep again,
leaving me to pace the room in as much
vexation as l can comfortably contain.
The next morning at breakfast, when /
give Mr., Snow an account of his last
nights troubles, he says
Indeed, my dear, am very sorry the
children trouble you"
Frh;n e. 4 . a TO Ia.
it is, Indeed, am very sorry"
But should the very same thing occur
the subsequent night directly before his
eyes very likely he would not see or
know anything about it, unless it hap
pened to interrupt his train of ideas.
Then he would propose catnip tea, but
before | can get it into the infants
stomach he would be far away into the
realms of thought, leaving me not lit
tie vexed at his stupidity.
He knows the name of every paper
published in England or the United
States, but he cannot for the life Of him
tell the names Of his CHI ldren. He
knows precisely the year of every Amer
lean journal, but he does not know the
age of his own baby. He knows how
every contributor looks, but do not be-
lieve he can tell whether my eyes are
black or blue.
They say Mr.. Snow is getting rich.
All | know is he gives me money to
clothe our boys, and that, too, without
complaint of poverty. hope the world
is right in opinion, and when | am sat
isfied it is shall advise him to resign
his editorial honors and spend few
months in becoming acquainted with
his wife and children. The little ones
will feel flattered in making the ac-
quaintance of so literary a man.-ROch
ester Advertiser.