The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1889-11-16
MARRYING AN EDITOR.

Yes, Pm Mrs. Peter Snow, an edi-
tors wife. well remember the day
when Mr.. Snow asked me to become
his wife. l confess | liked Mr.. Snow,
and thinking it would be. fine thing
to be the wife of an editor | SAID Eyes
as prettily as l knew how, and l be-
came Mrs. Snow. | have seen ten
years of married life, and find my hus.
band to be an amiable, good natured
man. always spends his evenings
at home, and is in that respect a model
man but he always brings pile Of ex-
changes, which is only limited by the
length OF his arms, and reads while !
patch the knees and elbows of his pant.
aloons and coat. After we had a
Quaker meeting of an hour length |
broke the stiffness by asking:
"Mr. Snow, did you order that coal
l spoke TO you about2"
"What did you say, my dear2" he
asks, after minutes silence.
"Did you order that coal spoke to
you about2"
"Indeed, my dear, l am sorry, but !
forgot all about it. 1t 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 nc
effort to quiet him.
"My DEAR" says Mr.. Snow, after he
has cried minute or so, "you had
better give the baby some catnip tea tC
quiet him he troubles me-"
the baby is still. Another boul
passes without breath of noise. Be-
coming tired, l take lamp and retire
for the night, leaving Mr.. Snow so en-
gagged with his papers that he does no,
see me leave the room. Towards mid
night he comes to bed, and just as ne
has fallen asleep the baby takes a no.
ton to cry again. l rise as quietly as
possible and try 10 still him. Then
another baby begins to scream at the
top of his lungs. There is no other
course but to awake MIR. Snow, so !
say:
"Mr. Snow Mr.. Snow p
The third time he starts up and cries,
"What, Tom, more copy1"
As though | was Tom, the little imp
running about the office. l replied
tartly:
"No. l don't want any more copy
| have had enough of that to last me
my lifetime l want you to see what
Tommy is crying about"
Nh. Snow makes desperate attempt
to arouse himself as Tommy stops to
take 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 break
fast, when give Mr.. Snow an account
OF his last nights troubles, he says:
"Indeed, my dear, l am very sorry
the children trouble you."
This Is always the way. If l com.
PLAIN it is. Indeed, am very sorry
But should the very same thing oc-
cur the subsequent night directly be
fore his eyes very likely he would moi
see or know anything about it, unless l,
happened to interrupt his train Of ideas.
Then he would propose catnip tea, bu'
before l 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
State, but he cannot for the life of him
tell the names OF his children. He
knows precisely the year of every Amer.
ican journal, but he does not know the
age of his own baby. He knows how
every contributor looks, but l do no'
believe he can tell whether my eyes arc
black or blue.
They say Mr.. Snow is getting ricn
All l know is, he gives me money tc
clothe our boys, and that, too, without
complaint of poverty. 1 hope the
world is right in its opinion, and wher
l am satisfied it is shall advise him to
resign his editorial honors and spenc
few months in becoming acquainted
with his wife and children.-Rocheste,
4dvertiser.