Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1892-03-31

just as every married man is, for spell,
at least. But it broke Ems heart, all
The same.
Lute's mother came to visit them
when their first child was born, and
she lifted q great deal of trouble off
the patient wife. Old Mis- Baker al
ways liked 'em; had told the minister
three years ago that she knew Elm
would make Lutte good Christian
wife. They named the boy Moses,
after the old Judge who was dead, and
old Mis- Baker said he should have his
gran'pa's watch when he got to be
twenty-one. Old MisA Baker always
stuck by EN-; maybe she remembered
how the old judge had talked once on
a time about his mothers cooking
For all married men are, as l have
said, idiotically cruel about that sort
of thing. Yes, old Mis- Baker braced
En- up wonderful; brought lot of dried
catnip out west with her for the baby;
taught EN- how to make salt-rising
bread; told her all about stewing
things and broiling things and roast
ing things; showed her how to tell the
real Yankee Goldfish from the counter
feit-oh, she just did EN- lots of good,
did old Mis- Bakerl
The rewards of virtue may be slow
in coming, but they are sure to come.
Ems three boys-the three bouncing
boys that came to En- and Lute-those
three boys waxed fat and grew up
boisterous, blatant appreciators of
their mothers cooking. The way
those boys did eat mothers doughnuts!
And mothers pies-wow! Other boys
the neighbors' boys-came round
regularly in troops, battalions, armies,
and like consuming fire licked up the
wholesome viands which Ems skill
and liberality provided for her
own boys enthusiastic playmates.
And all those boys-there must have
been millions of 'em-were living,
breathing, vociferous testimonials to
the unapproachable excellence of Ems
cooking. A
Lutte got into politics and they
elected him to the legislature. After
the campaign, needing rest, he took it
into his head to run down eastto see his
mother; he had not been back home
for eight years. He took little Moses
with him. They were gone about
three weeks. Gran'ma Baker had
made great preparations for them; had
cooked up enough pies to last all win
ter, and four plump, beheaded, we'll
plucked, yellow-legged pullets hung
stiff and solemn-like in the chill pantry
off the kitchen, awaiting the last sue
culent scene of all.
Lutte and the little boy got there late
of an evening. The dear old lady was
so glad to see them; the love that
bcamed from her kindly eyes we'll
nigh melted the glass in her silver
bowed specs. The table was spread in
the dining room; the sheet-iron stove
sighed till it seemed like to crack
with the heat of that hardwood fire.
"Why, Lutte, you amt eatin' enough
to keep fly alive" demonstrated old
Mis- Baker, when her son declined a
second doughnut; land what ails the
child?" she continued; "ha'n't he got no
appetite? Why, when you wuz his age,
Lutte, seemed as If l couldn't cook
doughnuts fast enough for your
Lutte explained that both he and his
little boy had eaten pretty heartily on
the train that day. But all the time
of their visit there poor old Grandma
Baker wondered and worried because
they didn't eat enough seemed to her
as if western folks hadn't the right
kind of appetite. Even the plump
pullets, served only in a style that had
made Mis- Baker famed throughout
those discriminating parts-even those
pullets failed to awaken the expected
and proper enthusiasm in the visitors.
Home again in Chicago, Lutte drew
his chair up to the table with an elo'
quent sigh Of relief. As for little
Moses, he clamored his delight
"Chicken pie!" he cried, gleefully
and then he added soulful "wowP
as his eager eyes fell upon a plateful
of hot, exuberant, voluptuous dough
nuts.
"Yes, we are both glad to get back,
said Lutte.
But l am afraid" suggested EN-
timidly, that gran'ma's cooking ha:
spoiled YOU"
Little Moses (bless himD howled al
indignant, wrathful remonstrance
'Gran'ma can't cook worth cent?
said he.
En- expected Lutte to be dreadfully
shocked, but he wasn't
81 wouldn't let her know it for all the
world" remarked Lutte, confdentially
"but mother has lost her grip on cook
ing AT any rate her cooking ism
what it used to be; it has changed"
Then En- came bravely to the rescue
mo, Lutte" says she, and she mean
it, ''your mothers cooking hasn'
changed, but you have. The man Ia
| grown away from the boy, and tn,
tastes, the ways and the delights of boy
hood have no longer any fascination
for the man"
Maybe you're right" said Lutte
"At any rate, I'm free to say that you
cooking beats the world"
Good for Lutte! Virtue triumphs an,
my true story ends. But first an ex
PLANTATION to concinnate my narrative
| should never have known this tru
story if Lutte himself hadn't told it t
me at the last dinner of the Sons o
New England-told it to me right be
fore En-, that dear, patient little maj
tyred wife of his. And knew by tn
lovelight in Ems eyes that she wa
glad that she had endured that maj
tyrdom for Lute's sake. Eugene Field
in Chicago News.
Husband newly married. )-"Don'
| 1zro 7 xra,-a 10 cmnlra