Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1889-02-02


Monday morning.
| "Good-by! Mind Susie takes care of baby.
| Don't let Bob tease Mamie. Be sure they
don't fall into the fire. Have supper ready
by 6 o'clock. Good-by! No, If am bust
ness man 1 must go to the train by myself.
| Don't trouble about me- Good-byi Good
| byp
| An active, trim figure, in a warm wrap,
compact walking hat, short walking skirts
and common sense shoes. opens the front
| gate, closes it carefully, and sails down the
| street before the wind to the cars.
| "The deuce take It'll How lonesome it is,
now she's gonel p
Papa, Mamies got my wagon"
A scufiie, a vigorous "Nowi" from Bob,
and Mamie is yelling with rage like 3-yesr-
old Comanche.
I lose no time in getting to the dining
| room, where l find Mamie, with her teeth
| set, clutching wheel of Bob's wagon and
| pulling with all her might, while Bob, with
| a most distressed expression, Is holding on
i for dear life TO the handle.
NV presence causes Bob to let go, but
| Mamie is her mothers daughter, and she
never capitulates.
| "Papa, dust wanted Bobby's Vaughn to
| div dolly wide in, an Bobby wouldn't let
me, an toot It,"
''But what is poor Bobby to play with"
I ask
"He tan play wifi my uver dolly"
81 don't want your dolly. Girls play with
| dollies-not boys" puts in Bob, grufiy.
The difficulty is soon sThoothed over, and
| in another minute Bob and Mamie are both
| giving dolly a ride in the wagon on the most
amicable terms.
The children had been dressed by their
| mother, and think what pretty picture
| they make-Nlamie in her dainty white apron
and Bob in his clean shirt waist.
The breakfast things are still on the table,
| and ring for Mary TO come and clear them
| away There is nothing particular to do,
and may as well write that policy for Jones
that l have had on my mind for the last
week. l must have the table cleared first,
though. Mary does not come, so ring again,
and again.
Still no Mary have waited half an hour
for her, ana at last go into the kitchen. Not
there, but hear voices and laughter in the
back yard.
Well, I'll be dashed! There is Mary,
leaning over the fence, talking to the girl
| next door, with an Irish gentleman, evil
| IDENTIFY in the potato vending business, by her
| side, all conversing in choice Celtic, and as
| regardless OF the flight of time a rapid de-
| livery messenger boy. A red faced woman,
whom do not recognize as part of my house
hold, is standing at the laundry door, assist
ing in the symposium with an occasional
| hoarse observation that always draws forth
a storm of laughter from the other three
| Mary" say in dignified tone.
| "Yis, sorr"
| 81 should like you to take away the break
fast things
| Mary's eyes open wide as she replies, en-
| phatically: Faith, sorr an don't yez know
| this be wash mornin'! OI'm aSsistin' Mrs
| McFinn, so Oh am. It's always coosthomary
| for yerself to carry out the platters Until the
kitchen, an Ofll wash 'em whin / have lay
shure"
An acquiescent nod from the red faced
| woman-who, l presume, is Mrs. McFinn-
and a smothered giggle from the girl in the
next yard, convince me that objections will
be useless.
go back to the dining room, just in time
| to prevent Bob from pulling down the bird
| cage, canary and all, which hangs by the
| window, and which he had climbed upon a
| very wabbly little table TO reach.
| II tod Bobby to dit up dere," says Mamie
unblushingly. Mamma always teams out
| birdie after beckfuss."
take the hint, and, in trying to clean out
| the cage, manage, somehow, to release
birdie" l am in the midst Of u hunt to get
him back in his cage, and have already
knocked down my wifes pet vase from the
| mantelpiece, and fallen over Mamie, when
| Susie enters with the baby.
| "Oh, Mr.. Smith, | can't do anything with
baby. believe he's going to have fit"
| "Why7"
/ take the baby and look at him, with my
heart going like trip hammer.
| Whats the matter with himm 1 gasp, as
look around helplessly.
| 81 know" announces Mamie, authorita-
lively. 'He dot some bead in his moufn
| ] put my fingers into his mouth, and sure
| enough, there is a great wad of sucked bread
| adhering to the roof
| "Oh, papa, birdie is in the hail." says
Mamie.
| hastily give the baby to Susie and return
/ to the chase of the canary, which, having the
whole house to fly in, leads me a pretty
dance. Shall tell how Mamie falls down
stairs; how Bob breaks a window with q
broomstick how l climb up to ali sorts OF
out OF the way corners, by means Of the STEP
ladder, only to see that confounded bird fly
away just as l reach him, and how / catch
him at last, with several of his wing feathers
| pIORen, anu dlIuD5I 10 ucdLus
1t Is now IL o'clock, and there are the cups
and saucers and other breakfast things on the
table still / hustle them of into the kitchen
and look around me.
"You must mind baby while Susie sweeps,
papa" says Mamie; and may here remark
that, If ever there was bright little darling
| In this world, it is Mamie.
/ am soon sitting In the low rocker with
baby, who, before going to sleep, has oblig-
| ingly pulled off the top of his bottle and
spilled half pint of the milk over my sleeve.
| 1t causes me some discomfort, but do not
mind it until Susie begins to sweep in an ag-
gressive style that envelops me in a cloud Of
dust and turns the milk on my coat sleeve
into thick, gray mud.
| All this time / hear the talking and laugh
ing down stairs and in the back yard, though
without the potato man, who was obliged re-
lunctantly to depart an hour or two ago.
"Papa, when are we going to have dinnerr'
asks Bob.
Bless my SOUL l have never thought of
dinner.
| "Susie, what about dinnerf' ask.
| swell, sir, on washing day Mrs. Smith
generally gets it herself But will get it II
| you like. l can't cook, because was only
engaged as a nurse, but If you will get some
steak or something might fry it."
| 81 don't like steak, /" announces Bob, stoutly.
| see a CLEAN of hope
| "Mamie, do you want some meatf'
| "Yes, papa, want some meat, an tatoes,
| an corn, an bead, an tea, an'-an-pickles,'
answers Mamie, uncompromisingly.
"Mamie, suppose we have some-some eggs
and bread and butter and cold meat, now.
| Then we will have dinner when mamma
comes homer say, insinuatingly.
"Vewy well; we will" agrees Mamie, and
by the kindness of Susie we soon have Q
frugal lunch before u.s.
I am in the midst Of the lunch, and am
just considering whether l am equal to wash
ing Mamie's face and exchanging her now