New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1891-09-08
HOME AGAIN.,

Two swallows may or may not make summer
even such half-dried, slack-baked, wash-day
summer as this that is going, not gone YET Ii
81. 600 swallows homeward flying last week 90
not prove tile coming of autumn, how are we poor
ovnsfollS ever to know the change of the seasons?
One would not surely care to be pent up to so
moor thing as dividing the year by the turning
on and turning of Of the steam in the pipes, anu
n murrain on it,-whatever murnin may happen
to be.
Every one has seen the signs except the bag
gage exprcssman, who is consequently undergoing
his semi-annual surprise poor thing. Now for
some weeks the members of every welmeanlng
family of three or more have been gradually draw
ing apart every man Jack and maid or wife
Jenny more or less frankly lstless through the
dwindling days. and each in less open
secret longing for the coming Of the traditional
three frosts that shall nip, if not the Western
farmers corn, then the Eastern fathers, and set
him thinking Of getting back to the city again.
Poor father Of the family; he has been more or
less Silently swallowing his own fdgets for the
last three weeks and has even been driven to
dark thoughts Of suborned kilograms, leading to
ouet corner at his best club, sadly rejecting that
70 n family of theatre-going daughters this inn
posture must appear rather overworked The
rain comes, the blessed rain, cold, dark, damp,
dismal but delightful as the first authentic WhlS-
per of home. That wretched father of the family
may have been driving hard through all the live
long summer his solitary joke, frankly cribbed
from Artemus Ward. No place like home, thank
goodness" lie doesn't say it any more. Pack
M. strap up, and away all. What if October be
the finest month in the year, sir? Is it not fine
everywhere? View? The finest view man can
have after the first week of September is the sight
Of his own bathtub, with six fresh towels on the
hooks, as big as summer resort" sheets and as
for the turning of the naples, give him the turn
ing of his own faucets, hot and cold one or BOTH
and a bed to wallow in after that hot box.
The city, too has been recovering from its
gone-to-thcfuneral look and is beginning to take
notice. The blind house is opening its eyes again
The hidcous painted blanks, despair Of burglar
and billsticker alike, are coming down; the uni
versal district messenger, useful and despised,
loiters in with the frOnt-door key, happy if it
be not a hated Yale in whose barrel no boy may
sifle in tune or out The charwoman comes and
religiously starts a raving heart-of-January fire
in the cold kitchen range, preparatory to slop-
ping and slathering the whole place. Then the
| housemaid, trim untrim, backs out OF win
dows, sponge in hand cloth on shoulder, and
| divides her time between the washing of the
| grimy sash and the watching of the yet grimier
| butcher-DOy once more taxing unhOly OrdefS
| down the block and up.
Last of all, while yet the brooms and buckets
| and wreckagc of demoralized clouts are on the
| back stairs behind the Boston-spring door.
I'D jounces the harmful necessary hack"
with the family of five wedged into
the seats for four, all securely dunnaged and
slowed snug with bags. bundles and umbrellas
for a round dozen. For family Of Mormon emf
grants, the father OF this says; but nobody minds
! him now, il ever, for are they not at home
And him bag, baggage and umbrellas worry
no more, for he, too. is at home. No. the canary
is alive; bark TO his shivering tr as he takes
his sun-bath in the parlor window. No, ma am,
the boiler has not burst nor yet the tank over
flowed and ruined the new ceilings, as your sum.
mer has been spent in foreboding The eldest
daughter is in the lnen-coset where the
new electric light is, so convenient. ma, do
look: the second darling is at tlr letters on
The hall table-more like, the bills; our youngest
stands at the piano. STUNNING Annie Rooney"
with one finger. Dinner s at seven Tell