Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1892-07-13

It was terrible; o tedious martyrdom.
Lute-mind you-Lute was not will
fully cruel; no, he was simply and
irremediably needless idiot of a man,
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 a 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 EN- |
| would make Lutte q 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 Mis- Baker always |
stuck by EN-; maybe she remembered |
how the old Judge had talked once on
q time about hts 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 a 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
fetch, 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
| ~AeI
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.
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
p1ucked, acknowledged pullets hung
stiff and solemn-like in the chill pantry
off the kitchen, awaiting the last sue
culent scene of all
i Lutte and the little hoy got there late
, of an evening. The dear old lady was
/ SO glad to see themj the love that
, beamed 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
l to keep a fly alive" demonstrated old
, Mis- Baker, when her son declined a
!. second doughnut; land what ais the
, | child?" she continued; ''ha'n't he got no
D appetite? Why, when you wuz his age.
s Lutte, seemed as if 1 couldn't cook
n doughnuts fast enough for your
= Lutte explained that both he and his
3 little boy had eaten pretty heartily on
S the train that day. But all the time
: of their visit there poor old Grandma
d Baker wondered and worried because
r they didn't eat cnough-seemedt to her
r as if western folks hadn't the right
g kind of appetite. Even the plump
n pullets, served only in style that had
l. made Mis- Baker famed throughout
= those discriminating parts-even those
d pullets failed to awaken the expected
l. and proper enthusiasm in the visitors
}. Home again in Chicago, Lutte drew
his chair up to the table with an elo
o quent sigh of relief. AS for little
e. Moses, he clamored his delight.
@gp l. s@l 81 ELL
and then he added a soulful 'wowr
"a as his eager eyes fell upon a platefu
d of hot, exuberant, voluptuous dough
1, nuts
If Eyes, we are both glad to get back.
l. said Lutte.
IS But I am afraid" suggested EN-
" timidly, that gran'ma's cooking ha
spoiled you"
4, Little Moses (bless himD howled al
p indignant, a wrathful remonstrance
er ''Gran'ma can't cook worth a cent!
20 said he.
Is EN- expected Lutte to be dreadful,
e. shocked, but he wasn't
is 81 wouldn't let her know it for all tn,
world" remarked Lutte, confdentially
Of but mother has lost her grip on cook
e. ing. At any rate her cooking ism
in what 1t used to be; it has changed"
m Then EN- came bravely to the rescue
mo, Lutte" says she, and she mean
k it, your mothers cooking hasn'
Id changed, but you have. The man Ia
" grown away from the boy, and tn
as tastes, the ways and the delights Of boy
at hood have no longer any fascinatio
~ for the man"
IS Maybe you're right" said Lutte
it. "At any rate, I'm free to say that you
al cooking beats the world"
e. Good for Lutte! Virtue triumphs an
ar my true story ends. But first an e1
n PLANTATION to concinnate my narrative
or should never have known this tru
story if Lutte himself hadn't told it
d, me at the last dinner of the Sons c
ne New England-told it to me right b,
h fore EN-, that dear, patient little ma,
he tyred wife of his. And knew by tn
s, lc=alir.h4 IL, Err,,s 4hat oh z.-r