The Bossier banner., 1893-05-11
HIS MOTHERS COOKING.
How Mr.. Smith Was Cured Of a
Bad Habit.

Bad Habit.
81 suppose you call these things
doughnuts." said Mr.. Smith, picking
up curly, brown edible on the ex-
treme end of his fork, and eyeing it
with an untranslatable expression of
countenance.
eyes, of course l do" said Mrs.
Smith, little timidly. Aren't they
nice? made them myself"
Mr.. Smith laid the curly, brown edi-
BILE down again, and pushed the plate
back
'Nice?" he repeated, 81 don't say
they're not nice. l presume they're
nice enough in their way. But l wish
You could have eaten my mothers
doughnuts,"
How were they different from these,
John?' Mrs. Smith ventured deferen-
TALLY to inquire.
Mr.. Smith moved fretfully in his
chair.
"In every way" said he. Women
nowadays don't know how to cook"
won't you eat one, John?"
THANK you, my dear, one mouthful
is enough" sarcastically answered her
lord and master. 1--WE lingering re-
spect left for my digestion. Joanna.
make me a piece of toast. Stale bread,
mind, and brown it but very little. l
don't care to load my stomach with
charcoal"
1t was perhaps a good thing for Mr..
Smith that he was too much occupied
with the columns of the morning paper
to observe the expression of Joannas
face as she whisked off into the kitchen
to execute her order.
SID like to shake some OF that nom
sense out of him." muttered Joanna to
herself, as she shut two slices of bread
into the toaster and held it over the
fire. "Of all fools, give Inc man. And
she as patient and sweet as new milk
over it!'
Joanna johnson was no ordinary
SHRED help" She was grim, straight
backed, lantern-ja jawed New England
woman, who had taken care of Allie
Alston as child, and who, sooner than
desert her nursing when she married,
Joined her tablishment in the hum
BILE capacity of general houseworker.
She did twice what any Celt or Teuton
would have accomplished, and for half
the wages, although no earthly power
would have induced her to call herself
servant" or wear frilled cap like
the other housemaids in the block.
Mrs. Alston was very quiet all that
day. Joanna watched her with wistful
eyes, as dog watches his master.
'She amt happy" pondered Joanna,
land it's because he's pickin' at her all
the time. Women don't know how to
cook, don't they? Well, if I was to
write down in book all that men don't
know, I'd have to build house to keep
the volumes in, guess"
Joanna" said Mrs Aston, in the
afternoon.
"Ma'am!" responded Joanna.
Joanna was particular to accord Mrs
Alston all the honorary attributes of
mistresshood, as q general thing 1t
was only when they were quite by
themselves that she indulged in the
sweet usages of the past and called
her pet" and Sweetheart" and 'her
own little Allie" as if they were nurse
and baby again.
II wish you'd get me Mr. Smiths
little brown valise. / want to pack
it
"Eh?" said Joanna. "N1r. Smith go
ing away again?"
Yes" the young wife answered,
with something of defiance in her man
ner. ''Its nearly three months since
ne went away before, and business is
business, you know"
YES" Joanna laconlcally answered,
sI know"
Mr.. Smith was to take the night
train. He came home to an early sup
per, but he would not eat much of the
nice fried oysters and apple fritters
which Alice had prepared for him.
Joanna" sighed the young wife,
when her husband had gone, "rm not
much of a cook
Them oysters was beautiful, deary,"
said Joanna, "an' the fritters was as
light as feather"
John couldn't eat them"
That's all his cantankerousness,
dear"
Joanna, you shouldn't speak of my
husband in that way!" cried Alice, fir
ing up.
i won't again, DEAR" said the New
highlander, covered with. confusion.
1t kind o. slipped out. But" she per-
sisted, in low tone to herself, Its
tsas, all the same"