St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1890-06-26
THEIR FIRST GREAT SORROW
How the Sunshine Came Again to
the Home of Bolivar Pyke After
the Clouds Had Rolled Up En-

How the Sunshine Came Again to
the Home of Bolivar Pyke After
the Clouds Had Rolled Up En-
Masse.
Chicago Tribune.
Mr.. and Mrs. Bolivar Pyke had been
married about six weeks, and were still
oppressively happy. Not a ripple of
discord had stirred the frog pond of
their domestic harmony, and their life
had run as smoothly and unobstructedly
as Chicago base ball clubs progress
down the toboggan slide. If there was
anything that could have made Bolivar
happier he didn't know what it was,
unless, possibly, 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 cup
boards 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 I'M
reasonable and ahsurdly happy these
two young persons were. -
1t was an evening in May-an Ordi-
nary evening in May, 1890-and the rain
hadn't stopped. 1t was falling as it fell
on the 18th day of the second month of
the 600th year the life of one Noah, and
in sheer despair the signal service man
had begun to predict bad weather.
"Buenavista," said Bolivar, looking
abstractedly about the room, IF it
wouldn't be asking too great favor -
"What is it, dear?" asked Mrs. Pike.
tenderlv.
please try the other knee while.
This one is getting tired"
"YOu have never said anything like
that before, Bolivar" she protested, re-
proachfully. perhaps I'd better go
and sit on chair"
"Now, don't get huffy. darling. You
don't look SO pretty when you frown."
81 am not frOwning. Bolivar"
'Then don't look pretty!" she ex-
self ten feet away. ''All right, Mr..
Pyke! You-you are getting tired of
me. I-I-wish was"
'Now, look her, BuenaVista, don't be
foolish. There's nothing to quarrel
about"
Ppm not quarreling. sir! Pm not
going to quarrel, either. If there's
anything of that kind done you will be
the one who does it, Mr.. Pyke."
Al am glad to hear it, my dear"
"You needn't call me your dear. l
am not dear to you any more"
Il thought you said you were not go
ing to quarrel"
Il did, sir, and 1 am not. In spite of
your conduct, Mr.. Pyke, l am still your
loving wife,
"Then, dearest"
mo. sir. am not your dearest.''
'Well, Buenavista, then-it you pre-
fer tiff you are still my loving wife,
won't you please sing something's
'What for? Are you afraid I'll try to
sit OH your knee again? You needn't"
mo. no. Buenayista. thought it
might clear up the atmosphere OF this
room little. That's ALL
With the aspect of martyr going
cheerfully to the stake, Mrs. Pyke went
"What shall / slng?" she asked
meekly.
neutrality-suspicious. it would
make things seem more cheerful if you
should tackle Home, Sweet Home.'"
Mrs. Pyke fixed her eyes on spot
near the ceiling where the wall paper
didn't exactly match and walled out the
touching melody.
'"Mid ple-a-a-sures and pa-a-alaceS
tho-o-ugh-I know we'll enough, MIR.
Pyke, you have only asked Inc to sing
this to make me appear ridiculous, but
l am going to do it!-'we may rO-O-O-am,
be it e-e-ev-er SOL think any man
who tries to make his wife the object of
ridicule never, never cared anything
for er-.hu-u-u-mbie there's nO-o-o
place like'-I have always done every
thing / could to make home pl-pl-pleaS-
ant. and you-you know it-ho-o-me. A
cha-a-arm from the ski-i-ies seems to-
seems like the ghaStliest mockery in the
world, but you would havea it-'ha-a-l-
lo-o-ow US the-e-ere. Which, se-e-eek
through the w-O-o-Orld. is meier meet
with elsewhe-e-ere. HO-Oo-ome, h-O-Ome
sw'-l'll sing it through if it k-k-ills me
sweet, swe-e-e-et home. There's
no-o-place'--ain't you ashamed of your
self, Bolivar Pyke, to sit there pretend
ing you care anything about our home
any more, or me either?-'ho-O-me.
Theirs 100000 place like'-B-Bolivar,
dear, [ can't! Yes, l will! l will
'ho-o-omer"
AS her quivering voice sounded the
last word of the song a manly voice
joined in with deep base, her tremb-
ling little fingers were gathered in a
close grasp, her head sank Oh Bolivar's
shoulder, and
dBut what business has any outside bar
barian to be intruding? Let US retire.