Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1890-02-13
A PUSSY HUSBAND.
Refined Domestic Tyranny Which Inter.
ested New Orleans Audience.

A comic little incident occurred in
the parquet of the Grand opera-house
last week, says the New Orleans Times
Democrat 1t was funny enough for
outsiders, but at one time threatened to
develop some rather distressing features
for one of the persons involved. Just
as the orchestra began tuning up for
the overture a couple appeared. The
lady came first, young, pretty, and in
every line of her well-bred face betray-
ing resentment of her escorts manner.
He, big, smooth-faced, choleric-look-
ing fellow, wore an intensely cocky air,
coupled with the aggravating way some
men have of steering women about as
though they were half-witted. In two
minutes and half the spectators near
est discovered that their neighbors
were husband and wife. The note of
authority in his voice and infection in
the name Fanny" clearly indicated 9
pressure of the matrimonial yoke.
The man began 'fussing" at once.
Passing into row fringe from her
gown caught in the seat, and while
Jerking it loose a TRADE was delivered
in an undertone on the 'infernal folly"
of woman's clothes. Then she was
forced to rise while he adjusted her
wrap across the back of a chair and
stand running comment at the same
time at her utter lack of Judgment in
bringing such frivolous style of shawl
on a sharp evening.
After nagging and growing till his
wife looked altogether disheartened
this comfortable individual turned his
attention to the program. He said the
theatre was "blasted BORE" and he
wished to heaven he had not allowed
himself to be deluded away from the
club.
"But, Fred, dear" the long-sufering
woman demonstrated, with slight sus-
picion of sarcasm in her soft voice,
don't you remember how many times
you came last winter? | often won
dered it didn't tire you more"
''What arrant nonsense you talk"
her companion rejoined. ''Of course /
came. Had it to do. Men in my line
of business in town every day, and if |
hadn't treated them to the play Iwould
have lost money right along" She
added something about the necessity of
supper afterward in an interrogating
tone, but he was staring round through
the glasses and pretended not to hear.
Quiet settled on the scene until
minute or more before the curtain
rose, when in a suppressed but terrible
voice he demanded: Fanny! what in
the name of thunder is that spot you've
got on your face?"
''Spot!' returned prosecuted Fanny.
81 don't know what you are talking
about. Why, nothing" All the while
her cheeks were aflame with mingled
shame and Indignation, even to the
tiny bit of court-plaster placed cOquet-
tishly near her red under lip.
you dor' said the tyrant; chat
hideous black patch disfguring your
chin. Didn't say I'd never seen a
woman guilty of such a vulgarity? 1t
makes you look like a monkey. Take
the end of your handkerchief and wipe
it off"
Il shan't; so therer returned the
worm, who turned at last. ''You have
no right to order me that way about
something that doesn't in the least con-
Germ you. Suppose" waxing warmer,
Il dared to abuse you about the way
you carry your cane or trim your mus
tach. You ere always worrying me
over some such trife." A break indi-
eating the dangerous proximity of
tears.
The despot looked his property over
from head to foot with a whitening
stare and then in unmistakable accents
announced quietly but firmly that if she
didn't do as he told her he would get
right up and leave the theater.
"Oh, no, you WON'T said hopeful
Fanny: that would make YOU con-
spicous. Come, now, Fred, don't cut
up SO. Just let me do as | like and [
shan't trouble you"
Are you going to take that internal
abomination off your face? Yes or no"
was his only answer.
well, if you want to know, won't".
The husband continued, while the
men behind forgot all about the audi
ence, stage. play, and everything else,
so absorbed had they become in the
exciting domestic drama at hand.
'See here, Fanny, did you ever know
me fail when swore to do a thing? |
give you till count five to get rid of
that infamous thing. If you don't, 1
warn you l will get up, 90 straight
home, and you can manage the best
you know"
The wretched little woman drew her
breath hard. Her face was deep
pink and her eyes sparkled as she ex-
amined the big, burly fellows counte-
nance to see if he could be in earnest.
Every second seemed an hour to the
participants and spectators, all recog-
nizing it as the crucial test of the wife's
future freedom. She evidently under
stood the full Importance of her action.
She wavered, lifted her handkerchief
irresolutely, let it fall in her lap, looked
again, and then, with one swift, angry
movement, swept the bit of muslin
across her mouth. He turned to re-
gard his slave with triumph, but the
glimpse of crimson cheek and very
cold shoulder served him during the re-
mainder of the evening.