The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, 1893-07-22
MR.. ATWOOD'S ECONOMY.
The Experience That Proved to
Him His Self1shness.

FSOAOiy, 1hht II you were JHc man ana
the money maker, we should have no
end of dollars and luxuries."
Mrs. Atwood, with cheeks a little
redder than usual, only looked down in
her coffee cup in silence. Scenes simi-
lar to this were of almost daily occur
renee.
Il really don'tsee what you do with
the money ! give you. declare, you
ask for dollar nearly every day.
There are five in the family; do YOU
expect to have no expenses? Perhaps,
# you would economize little Your
self, we should get along BETTER"
Me economize! Mel"
Eyes. / don't see why all the pinch
ing should come from my side. / need
q new pair of shoes. These are really
quite unfit to wear. Johnnie's are al
most as bad, and the two little girls
need some warm fiannels and 4 best
dress apiece
By this time Mr.. Atwood had got his
breath.
i suppose you think spend my
money foolishly, then" he said, angrily.
you spend it as you choose. All
men do, in a measure. 1t is the or
der of things at this time; but only
ask you to stop and think in serious
way where good deal of your money
does CO."
why, for flour and coal, for pota-
toes and meat, and dresses for you and
the children"
Mrs. Atwood smiled.
''For nothing else?n
Why, yes; there's my own clothing,
to be sure; but can't go out in public
looking like q raglnan; it would kill my
business. l suppose you are thinking
OF my new overcoat; but it's the best
economy to get something good while
you are getting"
( A principle you must have forgotten
when you gave me FIVE dollars two
years ago for my winter cloak"
"Oh, we'll, you don't go out any,"
ssTrue!''
You are unreasonable, as all women
are, and you think I'm made of money,
I guess. Here's five dollars you can put
to any use you see fit dare say it
will go for lace founce."
For my new calico?' queried Mrs.
Atwood, mockingly. But she picked
up the money very much as she would
have handled a snake. She thought of
the little children and knew she could
not refuse it, ungraciously as it had
been given.
Mr.. Atwood donned his new overcoat
and went out at the front door with a
more than usually hard bang.
slow tears rolled down her cheeks upon
its little golden head.
Johnnie, the handsome six-year-old
boy, climbed down from the table, and.
leaning on his mothers knee, gazed up
in her face lovingly.
When ! get to be big man like
papa" he said, 'I'll give you all my
money"
Then Mrs. Atwood smiled and brushed
the tears away.
"Yes, darling" she said, "mamma
knows the kind of a man you will be-
the kind OF man, please God, she will
try to teach you to grow into.n
Then, while washing up the break
fast dishes, she planned and planned
how best to spend that five dollars.
1.-TWO pairs of shoes must come out of
it. I'll get a low, cheap pair for my
self, perhaps for dollar; they won't
be very warm, but they will cover my
feet. Then I can get Johnnie's for per-
haps dollar and a half; that leaves
two and half for fannels and dresses
Tor the baby and little Nellie. Oh.
dear! did need ten dollars SO much,
and fifteen wouldn't any more than
have made us comfortable. If papa
cared for his wife and ba bies very much,
he would not buy fifty-dollar suits and
forty-dollar overcoats and ten-cent ci-
gars and all that. It's pity the tables
couldn't be turned for time
Then, having made everything snug
and clean, she sent Johnnie off to school
with loving kiss, called in Irish Nora.
q neighbor girl to stay with the chill
dren, and started out to make her pur.
chases.
If ! walk there and back" she
thought, II shall save ten cents, and
that will pay Nora. But think of papa
walking a mile over such streets as
these, in such shoes!' For they lived in
the suburbs, where rent was less.
The purchases had been made, and
Mrs. Atwood started homeward, tired
and faint.
II could only have a hot cup of
coffee now!" she thought, ''but I don't
even dare to spend nickel. It's going
to rain, too, / believe"
And rain it did; not gentle shower,
but terrible, drenching downpour, and
she had no umbrella. The thin cloak
was soon wet through, and more limp
and bedraggled woman could not have
been imagined than that poor mother
who staggered in at her own doorway
at last.
Mr.. Atwood had just completed a
most splendid dinner at most splendid
hotel, and was leaning back in his chair
chatting with gentleman friend he
had chanced to meet, and whom he had
invited to join HIM. There had been
champagne, and they were laughing and
in the best Of spirits, when telephone
message was handed to Mr.. Atwood,
~.~lxt xtz1.r ! a