The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1889-04-09
SWEET LITTLE POEM.
A COntiding Wife Gives Her Hus-
band a Surprise.
1T WAS A VERY GREEN CROWD.
Early Remedied-An Even Thing-HOw She
Distinguished Her Pies-WOrking
Hog-A National Question.

u bad not intended to tell you, BGIger,"
said the young wife of Mr.. McSwat, ''but
can't keep a secret any longer"
is it possible, Lobela, D." exclaimed Billiger,
tncredulously, chat you have been able to
keep a secret at allP
ut is And you would never guess it,
either"
Been making me dressing gown or an
embroidered night capF'
NO
"You haven't been running up bill at
Spotcash 81 Co. So" he inquired, with a suspi-
cious look and cold feeling in the region of
his SPINE
Guess again"
''Been taking lessons at a cooking schooIg"
he asked, paling visibly.
''No. Guess again"
A clammy perspration broke out all over
hin and he leaned against the mantel for SUD-
port as he gasped:
'Lobelia, is Aunt Jubilee coming to spend
the summer with usg'
The young wife laughed gleefulIy.
mo" she answered. You'll have to try
again, Billiger."
"Tell me what it is" he said, with return
ing self command 81 feel as if could stand
any disclosure now"
al think you're real mean, Billiger, but
will tell you. A little poem of mine is going
to be published in the next Century Maya
zine"
"WhewP
cIhis is the time honored way in which a
long, low whistle of establishment has always
been represented in print by the most sue
ceSsful wrestlers with the language, from the
Old Masters down to H. Rider Haggard The
reader therefore, will kindly understand
that Mr. Billiger McSwat gave utterance to
q long, low whistle.)
SIN the days of our courtship, Lobelia," he
continued, staring hard at the ceiling, 'you
never told me you wrote poetry. 1 didn't
know you were addicted to it, orb
"Or what" she demanded, with some as
perity.
'Nothing-nothing! he exclaimed, hastily.
"And so you are to have a contribution in
the next Century, How much is the editor
TO pay you for it, Lobelag"
81 don't know. haven't heard from him
yet"
''Then how do you know he is going to
print itg'
elbow do knowl Because he hasn't re-
turned it. l sent it to him nearly two weeks
ago.n
"OI You didI You inclosed stamps for re-
turn postage, of courseT
"Why, no, Billiger. 1 never thought Of
that Is it customary7n
"Er-no! That is, not always" replied the
young husband, mastering his emotion by a
desperate effort. SIT probably wasn't neces-
sary in the case of your poem, Lobelia. And
you have saved at least two cents"
Mrs. McSwat was not exactly sure whether
he was in earnest or not. She looked at him
with some suspicion, but his .countenance
wore that look of unearthly gravity and limo
cence that may sometimes be seen on the face
Of boy at school just after he had rolled
double handful Of bird shot over the floor
"Lobeha," he said, after a pause, 'tyou
haven't spoken of this-this poem of yours
that is-er-ah-going to be printed next
month to anybody else besides me, have you?"
''No."
f'Tben don't do it, Lobelia," he said. "If
you can manage to hold in till the poem is
printed, which" - and BiIiger held his
handkerchief to his face and coughed convuI-
sively in it for a few moments-"which will
be only two weeks longer, you know it will
be all the greater surprise to everybody. And
when that poem is printed in the magazine,
my dear, I'll make you present of pair of
olaInOnu edIIulSS.
The trusting young wife pillowed her head
On his bosom in an ecstasy of gratitude, and
as BGliger McSwat smoothed her golden hair
and murmured in her ear soft assurances Of !
his willingness to bankrupt himself, if neces-
sary, in order to give her costly presents as a
token of his pride and admiration-as soon as
fhe poem appeared-he could feel himself
growing meaner, and smaller, and more de-
spicable every moment.
o young wivesl Be warned in time.
When temptations to write poetry for the
magazines assai- your souls do not yield. Re
sist them 1t is a terrible thing to do any
thing that causes young husbands to feel
themselves growing smaller than they are
aIready!-Extract from "Frightful Warn
fngs of History" from the French of Dennis
Mulcahy-Chicago Tribune.