The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1894-01-25
CONVINCED.


tray.
Faded enough now, though she was
barely 81. You would hardly have be-
tieved how fresh and pretty Carry Car
yer had been on her wedding day. Her
husband saw the change, but somehow
he supposed all women faded Just 80.
"There is so much to do, Peter, and
the children demand so much of time"
pleaded the meek wife.
III l were manager in this household.
things would happen very differently"
II have no doubt of it," said Carry
quietly.
"There is no earthly reason" went on
MIR. Carver, ignoring the sarcastic mean
Ing of her tone, "why the work shouldn't
be done and you dressed and enjoying
yourself, cultivating your mind or some
thing, at II o'clock every morning that
you live. Washing up O few dishes.
sweeping room or two-what does it
all amount to? Why, my dear, don't
you see the folly of asking for a servant
to help you do nothing at ALP
The morning sunshine crept down the
pale green wall paper, sprinkling drops
OF gold on the few little geranium plants
That Peter called IL "waste of time" and
lay III noon splendors on tho CARPET. and
still Carry Carver stood there, thinking
thinking.
Garry! Aren't you going to get up
this morning: 1t is half past z, and"-
81 cannot, Peter" groancd Carry, turn
ing her face away from the light lam
suffering such dreadful pains in that foot
sprained last night"
''Well, what shall do?"
"You must take charge of the house
keeping yourself, Peter" said Carry,
hiding a smile in the folds of her pillow.
cts only for n day or two, and 1 don't
know of any help you can obtain. It
won't be much, you know"
"That's true" said Peter, somewhat
encouraged.
'Please darken the room, and keep the
children away, and don't speak to me if
you can help it, have such racking
headache, and the least excitement
drives me wild"
Peter shut the door with distracting
caution and went down stairs on creal-
ing tiptoe. AS he passed the nursery
door duet Of voices chimed on his ears.
Papa, papa, we are not dressed"
'Dress yourselves, then, can't your"
said Mr.. Carver, pausing
"Pet is too little to dress herself" said
Tommy loftily, land mamma always
dressed mel"
"Where are your shoes?"
81 don't know" said Tommy, with his
finger in his mouth
81 know" said Pet, aptly revenging
herself for the hit ut her diminutive pro
portions; Tommy dropped them out of
the window"
Crash! went a fancy bottle of cologne
off the table as Tommy CROPPED for his
carriers. Bangl fell Mrs. Carver's rose
wood writing desk to the floor, bursting
off the frail hinges and scattering pens,
envelopes and postage stamps far and
wide.
Mr.. Peter Carver was an affectionate
father in general way, but human ma
ture could not have endured this.
And he bundled the two little crea-
lures miscellaneously into whatever arti-
,cles came uppermost, rending off strings
and fracturing buttonholes in frantic
desperation.
The fire Obstinately declined to burn,
although Mr.. Carver opened the oven
doors alternately and drew out all the
hampers he could spy.
"Confound the firer said Mr.. Carver.
mopping his wet forehead with the stove
cloth. at won't go. I'll have blaze
iof kindling and try the breakfast on
that"
He seized the ham and carved several
thick slices, which he transferred deftly
TO gridiron, and then, elated with his
success, broke several eggs over the ham.
"Bless me, how they runI' he eiacu-
lated, rather puzzled. "But 1 know I'm
right. wonder why this coffee doesn't
boil. I'll stick in few more kindlings
that's the idea. There are the children
crying-hungry, suppose. l do believe
they do nothing but eat and cry" Mr..
Carver rushed to attend the peremptory
summons of the milkman.
And then he sat down. tired and spir.
itless, to repast of half cooked meat
and liquid mud. by courtesy termed cof-
fee
He looked despairingly around ut the
chaos that reigned in the kitchen.
mine o'clock, as live-and nothing
done. Well, see very plainly there's
no office for me today. Now, then,
what's wanting?"
'The clothes for the wash, please. sir"
said little girl, courtseying humbly at
the door.
Cup stairs and down stairs" went Pc
ter Carver, laying hands OH whatever he
considered proper prey for the washtub,
irummaging in bureau drawers, uphcav-
ing the contents of trunks and turning
wardrobes inside out for mortal hour