Morning journal and courier., 1894-02-17
TALES OF TEN TRAVELLERS.
 CONCLUDED FROM FIRST PAGE

TALES OF TEN TRAVELLERS.
 IcoNCLUDED FROM FIRST PAGE ing into the kitchen with 2 shout of re. serve information.
 ''It does, does 1t, my heartieas Well," retorted Dick with mock seriousness, giv- ing both of the youngsters 8 hug and . kiss to the eminent danger of his trem. bling eyeglasses, "Well, Hardys, junior, there'n be no jam for any body but your venerable grandmother at the subsequent princely repast of this household, if you approach the supply department in that tone of voice againl" :. the great spirits of their "darlingest" father, to lay the table, as Dot had bidden them; while Dick, hanging his Irish friezs upon the speaking tube, rubbed his glasses with a dry corner of the kitchen towel, tossed his cuffs into the wainscoted cup- board, turned up his coat sleeves, gave the kitchen sharp knife two or three "zip. ziffs," on the 1ange-pipe in place of a steel, and fell to paring the potatoes with won- drous care and zsst; and Dot set the kettle singing, sliced the bread into dainty began bravely hackling the steak with the potato masher.
 ''It ssems to me, Dot," resumed poor Dick Hardy, still temporizlng, ''It seems to me that just about one-third of the earth's products are wasted. Now, if you will observe the practical economy evi. denced by the manner in which am par | ing these potatoes"
 "DIck, I've got planl" Dot had closed the kitchen door softly | and was looking fondly and compassion l ateIy at her husband.
 "I know all about it, poor fellow! No you're just talking against time, Dick. We might as we'll own up to each other, | mightn't we? We've-we've just got to the very end, Dicks"
 "I should rather think we had, Dot," he admitted solemnly, looking hard and dig ging vigorously at the eye of potato, ito the end. Dot, with the 'd' pulled out of 1t, l besides"
 "We sent the dining room carpet out to be 'cleaned' six weeks ago9" "Right you are, Dot" "And the chiffonier to be 'mended,' five weeks ago, Dickf'
 "Just five weeks yesterday" "And the psrlor table to have the mar ble top polished four weeks ago to-mor- rowi"
 "You always were immense on dates and figures, Dot"
 "And the mantel clock to be srepaired' the next week; and your easy chair and bookcase 'to your new office' last Sstur- daya"
 Richard Hardy stabbed potato desper. ately and groaned outright.
 %P0or, R9of Dick" Die i she s, continued ,%' ten m gether; not only just to live through these %froo hr$ 1nao ! ble heart for 1t, Dlckl-to keep those poor | old childish mothers of ours from know | ing the real truth. Gracious mel Those l potatoes must go on instantly. I'll slice them fine, Dick, and they'll be done in a l minute"
 Something in Dicks eyes or upon hia glasses caused him again to employ the corner of the kitchen towel vigorously.
 The potatoes were soon a-humming. Dot filled the teapot with boiling water, ready for the drawing and the boiling water again at the last moment. Then the | old-fashioned skillet, not 8 new-fangled ! broiler, was over the glowing coals in g | jiffy, with come butter hiasing around in it's depths. She dextrously twirled the l skillet until the rich brown bubbles eddied furiously, when tho eteak was dropped | within, whirled round and round, and turned for a double eearing before the l slower and careful frying. Then the good l little helpmeet resumed: l "Tell me, honest now, Dick, have you tried every possible means of selling you. splendid worka Did you see the Nibner'. Monthly folks?'
 "Sure, Dot Instead of taking another story, they begged so exquisitely to be re l leased from using two 'Accepteds,' that hadn't the heart to refuse them"
 "And the Metropolitana'
 "Treated me like prince! Editor want ed me to dine at the club with him. Bu the moment ventured to suggest MS t, him, do you know he grabbed his watch reached for his hat and overcost, ant gaspipg, Jnst five minutes to catch th ferry, Hardy' he fed; fed, Dot, entreat ing me to think over 8 great serial; t mer's vacationl"
 "But the Plenthury, D!ckT
 "Ab, Dot, Editor Burnisher is indee, one of those who maintain that 'all spac Is filled with natter His head lay upol the desk ss entered. He arose and az preached me with, 'Ah, Hardy, my dea boys So glad to sec you!' He took m hand in both of his. He led me softly t another room. We paused bsfore tr. mendous saFe. Az its huge doors swun open he pointed, with avert.d head, to hi pigeon holes and their contents. I do nc
 know what your feelings may be at such
 spectacle, MT. Hardly he murmured, 'bu
 you may perhaps imagine mine.' hastil
 withdrew. Even the eight carat diamon
 on his finger seemed dimmed with teari
 as Editor Burnisher waved mo symp, ) thetic adieu. Dot. what do you think
 saw on little placsrd hung against th , stuffed pigeon-holes of that Plenthur | safe?"
 "Myl Dick, how can tella" |. She had put the steak upon hot platte
 and was now stirring the butter and f1ou
 softly iu the skillet-bottom for the gravy
 "Wel', Dot, twas just this: Unused MSS. 50,000."
 Dot thoughtfuily stirred the golde brown gravy until it began to thicker added another lump of butter and pushe 1t back to let it simmer little. The1
 taking the plates from the warming owe
 to tue dining room, she gavs the table
 few finishing touches; asked Dick to mas 7 the potatoes, which he did with heart
 vim, not forgetting a aplaah of milk,
 sprinkle of salt and bit of butter; ani after putting on the drawing of tea, asked
 this time trifls timidly:
 "Dck, what about the Sunday papersi
 "GIest Scottl exclaimed Dick hotly, fl riously beating the potatoes almost to
 father. "Now, now, Dot;-don'tl Wh little woman, don't you know that th Sunday papers are exclusively for ads,
 the Four Hundred, reprints from the con
 ics and the female lingerie reporter
 Whewl Dish these potatoes; do, Dotl" She dextrously removed the creamy stu
 to tursen, whisked the kettle under th
 water-faueet and innocently and half sad
 ly asked,
 "No chance with the syndicatess''
 Dich was now smoothing his hair at tt ? kitchen glass and sdj justing his cuffs an
 collar. He looked at Dot long and though
 fully. Then he furnished his glasss
 briskly with his handkerchief, get thel | squarely on his nose, took another goo l look at the little woman, marched straigl
 to her, took her pink ears firmly in b
 fingers, gave her forehead pitying so
 of kiss, end then remarked more diecol
 solately than he had ever spoken to her i
 all his life:
 Dot, wifea Now don't you know, Do
 that the syndicate handle only razor bsc
 humor and Gallmadge eermone?"
 "Poor, dear Dickl" said Dot despairin
 ly, but with loving smile shining throug
 her gathering tears. ''But come; supper
 ready. You ring the bell, Dick. I'll
 there in 8 moment"
 She really waited to dry her eyes ar
 chase back the olden smiles into the
 place, as Dick, after a bit of romp vii
 Bob and Nellie, tapped the little table be
 with a rattling staccato, and, az the old
 dies appeared from the "best room," as f,
 as possible from each other, statelily sal
 ted them and escorted them, one by on | int nS