Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1895-05-09
THE COMING MAN.
Eugene Field.

Time-Year 1000.
Scene-Dining loom OF Mr. and Mrs
Iate"day.
Each is arrayed in a costume re-
yersed from the custom of their an
ceStOrS. The wife wears an ultra
style OF boomers. with vest cutaWay
coat and black fOur-in-hand necktie.
Hair short and parted in the middle.
The husband is clothed in a light blue
wrapper, fluffy sleeves, close cut beard
and long hair, arranged d ii mode of
the latest French knot. They sit at
the breakfast table, Susan reading the
morning paper, while John is slowly
pouring out the> coffee, fr0Wning and
muttering incOherent sentences as the
right sleeve of his morning gown falls
accidently into the dark Brazilian bev-
erage before him. The children, May
and Willie, respectively thirteen and
, fourteen years of age, occupy seats on
either side of the table.
Johns mind wanders in RETROSPECT
ton as with a dolly he dries the mois-
tened sleeves This is the tenor Of his
thoughts: Little did fathers of 1895
conceive that their pOSterity would
think, act and dress as they do today.
Here 1 am a continual hOmebOdy and
haven't the opportunity to leave my
duties for a moment. The entire
morning is consumed in caring for the
children, getting them ready for
school. cleaning their faces and hands,
and above ali, plating little Willie's
hair, which reaches to his waist-and
such a lovely color. Then it is so hard
to keep his dresses clean, more so
than my own, though l am constantly
in the kitchen, and darn the holes in
his stockings Alas. | wish boys wore
trousers as they did 100 years ago.
But then | can't complain, for he is so
amiable and quiet. If he were but like
Mary and could dress as she dresses,
| should have no trouble in keeping
him clean and respectable. Her
blOOCerS are never sOiled. her short
barber cut hair so easily brushed and
if she were not so robust, rOlicking and
miscellaneous I should dOte on her.
live in constant dread that Willie may
become Tom girliSh' and Mary loose
her head or limb while playing football
or cricket. A hOusekeeper's life is in
deed a hard one"
At this juncture Susan lays aside the
paper saying-"This is miserabl
Stocks and bonds are depreciating rap
idly, the 'gOldbugs' of Wall street are
riding rough shod, reckless v over all
competitors. and mOnOpolists are OPP
pressing private industries with heels
of iron. How long will it last? Why
will not Mrs. Smith send her message
to congress: Perhaps this would re-
store confidence and plenty. OF course,
the two houses cannot agree on a
financial policy. for hair pulling, Cos
sip and scandal is the order Of the
day. Public affairs are in deplorabIe
state. Ny speculations are not realiz-
ing anticipated profits, but l trust the
tide will change before tomorrow
looking up John, dear, the coffee is
very weak. Why don't you scold the
cook? You know l haven't time to
overlook domestic affairs, being absent
from home all day. And the biscuits,
! dearest: how diff erent from those my
father used to make. (Sighing) Poor
, me, 1 shall have dyspepsia before an
other week is ended. Turning to
Nary Daughter, how do you like your
! new bicycle?'
Mary-"Oh, it is just too nice for
anything. and l have outstripped every
I other girl in the neighborhOOd racing
round the block. They are all envious
# me. But what do you think,
mamma? Willie asked me yesterday
to let him ride, and straddle at that.
willie bushes and covers his face
with his hands, as he violently coughs.)
The idea Of my brother, boy, wanting
{ to ride a bicycle. 1t is ridiculous, in
decent, What would the other girls
saw"
Mother almost unnerved by the dis
closure of Willie's desire)- am
astounded that my SOIL, a Latarday,
should 50 far have forgotten himself
as 10 act in a manner so unbecOming
a little gentleman. Be content, my
child, with your dolls and dresses.
These are better suited to your posi-
tioL.
Father (soothingly)-There, darling,
don't cry. Mother didn't mean to hurt
my little angels feelings. Susan, you
should deal more gently with the gen.
| tier sex.
MOther-Hush, John. You are little
better than your son. Your head is as
soft as putty.
Tears come into Johns eyes. He
and Willie weep violently, while the
mother and daughter eat in silence, ap-
parently deploring the weakness of the
male sex.
After the lapse Of a few months,
/ John. an ideal husband, believing his
! wifes criticism to be just and proper,
! RECEIVERS a smile and Willie, replacing
a fallen hair-piD, stuffs a batter cake
in his mouth. At this interval the