Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1891-12-09
ANNAPOLIS MD, WEDNESDAY EVENING DECEMBER O. 1891.



just as sorry as any husband could be.
And, like any other husband. he stands
and surveys her for moment and then
bluntly says:
Il expected It'll Finally got fat down,
eh?"
It's nothing she family replies.
"0hl it isn't? Nothing for wife to
Cop down and upset the whole house.
suppose? Well, I've been looking for it
the last three months, and so I'm not
much surprised. Mrs. Bowser, it's
wonder 70 me that you or any other
woman in New York is out of your
coffin"
It's only-only headache, dear.
Yes, only headache; but what do
headaches lead tor If you are not dead
woman before Saturday night you may
consider yourself lucky. Didn't / warn
you not to sit in a draught-not to wear
thin shoes--not to eat too much in warm
weather? Little good 1t does to talk to a
woman!"
You can't help ailing occasionally.
she replied, as she got up to wet the
bandage around her head.
Mrs Bowser, look at mel" he said, as
ne struck an attitude and held one hand
aloft "When am ever ailing? When
do you hear me complain? Neverl And
why is it? Because, Mrs. Bowser-be-
cause ] don't cram my stomach with
watermelon, buttermilk, gumdrops, GUS
tard pie. sweet cake, ginger ale, and all
that Because don't 90 around with
my feet sopping wetl Because know
enough to come in when it rainsl Because
l exercise little common sense in tax.
ing care of myself"
your dinner is ready"
And Pm ready for dinner. A healthy,
happy person is always ready for his
meals. You won't try TO get up, sup.
pose ?"
~Not nown
well, you have only youself to blame.
You may learn in time, but doubt it,
I'd like to find one woman with about
two ounces of horse sense in her head be-
fore die, but l don't expect to do it.
Well, it can't be helped, / suppose. The
Lord made you that way and it's no use
to argue"
Mr. Bowser eats his dinner, smokes his
cigar, and sings and whistles as if the
slightest noise didn't go through her
aching head like bullet. 1t never oc.
ours to him to fan her, wet the bandage,
or ask her if she can't sip cup of tea.
1t does occur TO him, however, to say
about bedtime:
I'm sorry, of course, but then you
must have more sense. I'll go up to bed
and you can come when you get ready.
Ii you are going to kick around much
you'd better sleep in the spare room"
Now and then the tables are turned.
Mr.. Bowser comes home to lunch, drag.
ging his legs after him and looking pale
and scared.
Whats the matterp" asks Mrs
Bowser as soon as he steps into the
house.
"Got sore throat, and l feel feverish
IL think I'm going to be sickl"
She doesn't call out that it's just as she
expected and declare that no husband in
New York has sense enough to look out
for his health. She knows he was out in
a draught in his shirt sleeves, but she
doesn't even mention it. On the con.
trary, she remarks:
TRY and eat a little something and
then lie down. You'd better gargle your
throat and then tie it up"
DO you-you think it's anything sc
rious?" he whispers as he grows paler.
Il hope not, but it's best TO be on the
safe side. You are subject to quinsy,
You know, and spinal meningitis begins
just this way"
II believe I'm going to die, pasps Mr.
Bowser, and he grows so weak that she
has to take off his coat and vest and get
him on the lounge. Everything about
the house is ordered to go on tiptoe and
even the cat is put out and the clock
stopped. After his throat has been tied
up, his shoes taken off, and quilt thrown
over him Mr. Bowser plaintively in.
quires:
Don't you think you'd better send for
a doctor?"
Not just yet, dear. I don't think it
very serious.
Mrs. Bowser. / believe I'm already
struck with DEATH"
Nonsense! You've just got a little in.
fammation Of the tonsils.
-Tve felt for some time as IL a great
calamity hung over the household.
Hadn't we better have two doctors?r
Just try and get to sleep, Mr.. Bowser.
and I'll warrant you'll feel better by
night.
"Ahl how suffer, he groans. "Yor
may be widow before the week is out
! hope you viii always be kind to our
child have tried to be q good hus.
band, and-and-"
Mr.. Bowser lays her hand on his fore.
head and the tears come TO his eyes and
he suddenly becomes a great big BOBBY.
She has to hold his hand to get him 10
sleep, and when he wakes up lie wants
tea and toast and jelly, and he is as petu-
liant as sick baby until finally put to
bed. He is new man when he awakes
IN the morning, and when she asks after
his throat he replies:
+Throat-humphl Mrs. Bowser. for
about five hours yesterday was hover
ing between life and death. Had it been
you You would have died 10 times over,
but grit pulled me through
Grit
@Yes. Grit-sand pluck = Spartan
courage and fortitude. let none of vuu
know how bad actually was, but just
shut my teeth and determined to live. and
here is the result OF it. Ahl Mrs Bow