The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1894-06-14

OW deeply deplore the promptness
with which the rumor of our Family
AA Quarrel reached you-as such rumors
always do! had meant to break
the shock as gently as | could, and to send
you a full account of the unhappy affair."
plain, unvarnished statement of facts-leavine
you to draw your own conclusions and pro.
nounce your own judgments. This you de-
mand of me, indeed, in your alarmed and
may say, somewhat indignant letter, which
has just been delivered to me-
AS you so justly write: "Why should you be
left outside the pale when matters of such
moment are disturbing the peace of the family
fOld-when convulsions and upheavals are
wrecking the happiness of our family life :? u
| Why, indeed? / will hasten at once my
dear aunt, to guide you over the desolated
wastes of the battle ground, and to recount,
as briefly and graphically as | can, the story
of the late war. As Victor Hugo says: " Let
US look at the road by which the fault has
passed" "
As you know, we are 1--WE have been, rather)
a singularly united clan We secrete sort
Of family pride or conceit (you women might
call it affection) that cements us together in
one firm, conglomerate mass. Seldom have
seen family so variegated yet so solid.
| Two parents, five sons, and a daughter-what
work for cohesion there! We have the
reputation of being immensely good-natured,
whether justly or not you know without any
! hints from me-
AT all events, we never had general row
before There have been times when we were
individually unhinged; when father had the
tantrums, or mother the dumps, or Amy the
nerves, or one of the boys some other dis
temper; when even l have been calmly dis
turbed, indeed. But this time we were All
Mad
The Saturday before the great snowstorm
dropped into a seat on the afternoon train
bound for home. Tagged out with hard
day on Change, L dropped off to sleep at the
| same instant So / did not see the newsboy
when he went through with the evening
paper; or else / forgot it. Charlie also forgot
| it. He was on the same train, and so en-
crossed in talk with a pretty girl, who got
| off at the station just before ours, that he
| didn't even look me up until we stepped off
the train.
We were two hours late, the sleigh had
been there and gone, and we had the pleasure
| of plowing our way up through the drifts in
| the teeth of a biting wind When we reached
our hospitable home and found the family
| enjoying a smoking dinner before roaring
| log fire we were not in the most genial of
moods. To be met with an instant demand
for the evening paper-a demand delivered
| in fathers most imperious tone-before we
| had closed the door behind us, and then to
be thrown on the defensive and forced to ex-
| plain such an unprecedented course of action,
| or inaction, on our part before we had melted
| the ice off our boot heels-all this scarcely
improved it.
/ think you know father well enough to
understand that mild, superlatively mild as
he is, nevertheless, when his mind is fixed
upon thing, it is fixed. Possibly, too, you
have spent day with him when he has been
pent up in the house, as he had been that
| day. and know the degrees by which he drops
| to the zero of ennui. You may have observed
| the busy beginning of the day with rummag-
| ing in dusty corners and bringing to light of
| forgotten rubbish the woodpecker-like ham,
mering wherever bare spot suggests the adj
| missibiity of a nail; the Encouragement and
| reformation of everything from the brie-a-brac
| in the parior to the pans in the kitchen; and
| you know that the tail end Of the day means
| a blank more void even than that of bldse
child-for said child can be snuffed out under
| the bed clothes, and said father has yawn-
ing chasm of evening to be filled in some way
or other.
There is no better stopgap for this than an
edge, too, that it was a most uHfilial delin-
! quency on our part. Looking back from the
calm present l see it in its true light, but at
| the time it seemed q trif1ing matter compared
with our cold feet and empty stomaehs. The
more father talked about it the more Charlie
| and laughed and chatted about other things,
and, alas ! the more we did so the more ag-
| grieved and determined father grew, ostenta-
| tiously pushing away his dessert and coffee
cup to show that the disappointment we had
| inflicted had quite taken away his appetite.
| ave might send over to the Bigelows and
| borrow theirs" he suggested finally, in an
evil moment. 'Bigelow is sure to have
| brought one from town" The Bigelows are
our next door neighbors, you know.
! The family voice protested that it was a
| beastly night to send anybody out for a
paper
Nonsense ~ said father, "it's only a lit
tie furry of SHOW"
| But, my dear" ventured mother, the
| Bigelows, you know -
| As father did not seem TO know, she went
on to explain that she would never as long as
she lived borrow so much as a pin Of the
| Bigelews; they were so morbidly particu-
| lar abouf9such things that if they gave you
one cent stamp they'd remember it and ex-
| pect you to pay it back. They never forgot
anything She believed they must keep
| little account book, all debit and no credit.
She would never forget the time we borrowed
the corkscrew and lost it. Mrs. Bigelow had
never been the same since.
Father poohpoohed and pished and
pshawed, and dispatched Wilson on the er-
rand before he had half waited on US; while
mother protested that she would not have
a happy moment until it was out of the
house again. l called after Wilson to have
the cutter out in an hour. / had an engage
ment for whist at the Greys,. TO fathers