The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1890-08-16
OPPRESSIVELY HAPPY.
The First Ripple of Discord in Mr..
and Mrs. Bolivar Pyke's Brief
Welded Life.

been married about six weeks, and
We're still oppressively happy. Not q
ripple ofdiscord had stirred the frog
pond of their domestic harmony, and
their life had u as smoothly and
unobstructedly as a Chicago baseball
clubs progress down the toboggan
slide. If there was anything that
could have made Bolivar happier he
didn't know what it was, unless, pos
sibly, it was to hear that his tough,
leathery and grasping old uncle in
California had gone to the good
world; while the addition of forty
more cupboards and closets to the
house could hardly have added to the
felicity of his young wife.
This may sound like exaggeration,
but you have positively no idea how
u~nreasonably and absurdly happy
these two young persons were.
1t was an evening in May-an ordi-
nary evening in May, 1s90-and the
rain hadn't stopped. 1t was falling as
it fell in the seventeenth day of the
second month of the 800th year of the
life of one Noah, and in sheer despair
the signal service man begun to pre-
dict wet weather.
.Buenavista,n said Bolivar, looking
abstractedly about the room, 'sif it
wouldn't be asking too great a
favor
"What is it, deargn asked Mrs. Pyke
tenderly.
'.Please try the other knee awhile.
This one is getting tired"
You have never said anything like
that before, Bolivar she protested
reproachfully. "Perhaps I'd better
go and sit ona chair"
Now, don't get huffy, darling.
You don't look SO pretty when you
frown."
Il am not frowning, Bolivar"
You certainly are, Buenavista."
Then l don't look pretty" she ex-
claimed, bouncing up and seating
herself ten feet away. "All right, Mr..
Pyke. You-you-you're getting
tired of me. I-I-wish | was''-
"Now, look here. Buenavista. don't
be foolish. There's nothing to quar-
rel about"
Pm not quarreling, sir. I'm not
going to quarrel, either. If there's
anything OF that kind done you will
be the one who does it. Mr.. Pyke.n
81 am glad to hear it, my DEAR
'sYou needn't call me your dear. /
am not dear to you any more"
II thought you said you were not
going to quarrel"
II did, sir, and | am not. In spite
Of your conduct, Mr.. Pyke, | am still
youT loving wife"
"fhen, dearest"-
mo, sir; ! am not your dearest"
well, Buenavista, then-if you
prefer tiff you are still my loving
wife, won't you please sing some
thing?"
what for? Are you afraid I'll try
to sit on your knee again? You
needn't"-
No, no, Buenavista. / thought it
might clear up the atmosphere of this
room a little. That's all,n
With the aspect of a martyr going
cheerfully to the stake Mrs. Pyke
went to the piano and sat down be-
fore it.
What shall I sing?" she asked
meekly.
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. it would
make things seem more cheerful if
You should tackle Home, Sweet
Home.'n
Mrs. Pyke fixed her eyes on a spot
near the ceiling where the wall paper
didn't exactly match and walled out
the touching melody
"t'Mid ple-a-a-sures and pa-a-al-
aces tho-o-ough'-I know we'll
enough, Mr.. Pyke, you have only
asked me to sing this to make me APP
pear ridiculous, but | am going to do
it!-'we may ro-o-oam, Be it
e-eve-e-er sol think any man
who tries to make his wife the object
of ridicule never. never cared any
thing for her--shu-u-u-umble there's
no-o-o place like'-I have always
done everything | could to make
home pl-pl-pleasant. and you-you
know it-'ho-o-ome. A cha-a-arm
from the ski-i-ies seems to'-seems
like the ghastliest mockery in the
world, but you would have it
'ha-a-llo-o-o-w us the-e-e-re, Which,
se-e-eek through the wo-o-o-orld, is
meier me-e-et with elsewhe-e-ere.
Ho-o-o-ome, ho-ome, sw'--I1l sing it
through if it k-k-kills me--sswe-e-e-
eet, swe-e-e-eet home. There's no-o-oi
place like'-ain't you ashamed of
yourself, Bolivar Pyke, to sit there
pretending you care anything about
our home any more, or me either?-
'ho-o-ome, There's 100000 place
like'-B-B-Bolivar dear, / can'tl
Yes, | will! l willl-ho-o-o-omern
AS her quavering voice sounded the
last word of the song a manly voice
joined in with a deep bass, her trem-
bling little fingers were gathered in a
close grasp, her head sank on Boil
vars SnOul0nr and
But what business has any outside
barbarian to be intruding here? Let
us retire. -Chic1go tribune.
A Fan with Modern improvements.
A very odd thing in fans was
brought from London as a present.
This fan is a filmy affair of gauze
stretched in a black frame and is the
most simple and innocent looking of
the fan species when it is folded up
and lies demurely on a lady's lap OF
reposes peacefully upon her dressing
table. But let q pretty roma unfurl
and hold it before her face, and the
most incorrigible oma hater will
become dimly aware that even his
peace is menaced by the fine coquetry
of the dainty weapon.
In the middle of the black gauze is
set a tiny velvet half mask, through
which q pair of merry, tawny brown
eyes can do awful execution. The
thin fabric upon which it is placed is
distractingly becoming to the fair and
delicate tints of hair and face, and