The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1891-11-27

Mrs. o. (ldughhg)-Oh, dear, mol Ed
ward Saunders.
ToM-And who may he be?
Mrs. O.-My brother.
ToM-Why. you never had a brother.
Mrs. O.--Not a real one, know. Ned
is adopted, and consequently great deal
nicer. One can't help having real brothers,
however unpleasant, IL they happen to be
born, but one needn't adopt brother un-
| less he's likable.
ToM-Then you like-Ned?
Mrs. O-Like him. lore himl
ToM-The devill
Mrs. 0,-Tom, be moro choice in your
language.
Toni beg your pardon. II it is not
impertinent. I'd like to know chy you
! love-Ned?
Mrs. O.-Because, when Mr.. Osborne
died, he was devotion itself.
Ton (dryly-Very likely.
Mrs. O.-Nothing could exceed his kind
ness, He gave up all his engagements to
attend to ne.
Ton Cronically)-what a sacrifice to his
feelings.
Mrs. q. mot hecding TOMS remark-Hls
unselishness has absolutely revived my
faith in his sex-at least in one member of
| IL.
ToM-Dldn't you believe in the man you
married?
Mrs. OIL never married any man.
ToM-Bless my soul! wasn't Mr..
| Osborne a man?
MRs. O.-A manr l suppose so; but I
never married him. He married me.
There's a difference.
Toni suppose there is. What amazes
me is that you ever allowed Mr.. Osborne
to marry you.
! Mrs. OFF you had been my fathers
child, you would not be amazed. l was
too young oresist, but never was hypo-
critic. My husband was harsh and cruel
and when he died did not shed tear.
| ToM-(delighted at the confession, jumps
up and rdlks about nerrously; then recall
ing Ned" stops in front of MRS. OsBoRNE).
So, not loving your husband, you took to
loving Ned.
Mrs. O.-(mdi9nantly). Ned is married
man!
ToM-That doesn't seem to make the
least difference nowadays.
Mrs. O.-l'm ashamed OF you, Tom.
Ned's wife is as dear to me as himself
Ton Jumps up and sings rith detighD.-
Tol lol, lol!
Mrs. O.-What ais you, Tom?
ToM-Nothing. nothing. It's three
years isn't it, since the late lamented-
the rery late lamented-departed.
Mrs. O.-Three years, four months and
one day.
ToM-What head for statlstics More
earnestly sitting beside Mrs. o. Do you
know, Lydia, it's a pity that woman
with such capacity
MRS. Olive capacity, have I?
ToM-Please don't interrupt me. / re-
peat, it's pity that a woman with such
capacity for loving should not bestow it
Oh a worthy object.
Mrs O.-What sort OF an object?
ToM-What sort OF an object? A man,
to be sure. Do you think / mean a
poodle?
Mrs. O.-Some OF my friends are SO
much moro attached to their poodes than
to their husbands that was in doubt.
TOM-This Is too bad Are you nerer
serious, Lydia? Marriage Is no laughing
matter.
Mrs OIL am quite aware OF that, Tom.
ToM-But really. you ought to marry.
Mrs. O.-Good gracious haven't l been
married? Sometimes one dose Of medl-
cine effects cure.
Tom Sometimes; but this is not one Of
the times. Do you remember the man
in our town" who jumped into bramble
bush and scratchd out both his eyes. His
fate is graphic Illustration OF the case in
point:
"And when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main
He jumped into another bush
And scratched them In again"
MRS. o. (ldughing)-- Then you think that
at present am-
ToM-Going it blind, to be vulgar but
forcble. do.
Mrs. OIL thought my eyes had been
opened long since.
ToM-Then you thought wrong. You
ought to know that young pretty woman
like yourself
MRS. o. What! Tom, the woman
hater, paying compliment?
ToM-Lydia, you've a horrid habit OF
interrupting conversation in the middle
Of sentence. l say that woman like
you needs a protector to shield her from
the world.
| Mrs O.-That sounds beautifully. My
protector shielded me from the world by
leaving me alone IN it. He ought to have
married q pack Of cards. Poker Is much
more amusing than wife.
ToM-Lydia, you're cynic. There are
men-and men. Now think that in the
game OF life woman is the right bower"
and that hearts are trumps!
MRS O-Here's miracle Since when?
ToM-Since always. You are blind not
to know that whenever n man rails at your
sex it is because he has been disappointed
in one woman and is seeking another.
| Mrs. O.--(rises suddenly. On
Tom What's the matter?
Mrs, O.-Theres gnat in my eye! How
! it pains.
M-(anriously). Don't rub it,
MRS. OIL must.
IoM-You'll only make II worse. Open
| your eye and let me see where tho beast