The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1895-08-31

men from Shaplemann'S Jostled him III
his agitated progress up the stairs. BE
burst, into his sanctum. to find it filled
by a writing table. Near the abomina-
ton stood his wife, regarding it with
brown eyes full Of pensive pride.
What III the world Is this thing do
ing here" gasped Jones.
why. you couldn't write anything
decent without a writing table and how
can o expect me to- she inquired.
Her air was 80 important, vet withal sc
guilty, that Jones subdued his ind,gna.
ton al tried to laugh When they had
both left the room. Tie Went back and
permitted himself the satisfaction Of
kicking the thing gently il several
places
The evening saw them both esta!,-
lished at their desks. The horrid impo>-
sibility Of it all struck upon Jones only
too q He had written the opening
chapter in hi. best manner. and the
time came when he wanted TO read il
out To give her her due. his wife lis
tened eagerly, and did him full justice
when he ceased.
And now listen to mine" she said
blithely.
Jones felt it to be his WI act and
deed, and he resigned himself TO listen.
Her chapter was really not badly writ
ten. Her style was evidently modelled
on his own. Jones put his finger tips to-
getller and smiled hopefully But VIXEN
II came to her hero, alas. not only had
he "a comb at the back of his head, as
Stevenson puts it, but he was altogether
impossible. How to wipe him tenlerly
out Of the chapter without breaking Of
hearts: Jones fidgetcd distressfully.
That's not quite the sort Of thing a
man would say, dear" he suggested
mildly
"Oh, isn't it, she answered. with
derision. LAS it happens. a man did say
it-those very words. Do you imagine
you know how every kind of man talks
o a woman when he's alone with her.
Heaven Forbid said Jones. And
who said it to You, may | ask
II didn't say it was said to me. = she
replied, with some haste. How do you
like this ending: | think it's rather
neat. don't you: And when they had
both left the conservatory there was
something frail and pink lying on the
marble floor. 1t was a moss rose bud. |
rather admire that sort Of ending
where is the point" inquired Jones.
ION, We'll, If Won want points TO ev-
cry single sentence
well, but don't YOU see that unless
you mean something by it there's no
sense at all in the thing: It's simply
Family Herald business. l should have
thought you'd have seen that.
Its a matter Of taste, and | differ
from YOU, said his wife very coldlv,
land if we are to pick holes in each
others work allow me TO tell you that
no lady would have behaved as your
heroine did in that hansom!'
Why, that actually hap"-began
Jones unwarily.
Il knew it, cried his wife, o~verturn-
ing the ink bottle. 1T was that day
you saw Kitty Cameron home from the
theater. | thought 50 at the time, She
shall never enter my house again"
Jones was enraged, but saw a posi-
BILE ''score."
ut was on the same day he said
slowly, with a painstaking smile, "as
that on which You permitted yourself to
be addressed by a man, not your hus-
band, III the way you 50 t~astefully chose
to read me.
There was a silence. They glared at
~ another. Then Jones wife got up
and left the room with a queenly step,
closing the door behind her with osten-
tatious g~entleness.
Jones heard no more about collaborat-
ing for some time, but next day the bill
came i'll for the writing table,
guineas.
He bargained with Shaplemann. who
consented to take it back for 4, and the
incident closed.
Some months later Jones' book actu-
ally appeared, and his wife received nu-
merous letters congratulating her on
the authorship of it.
"What in the world do they meant
he demanded.
why, dear, said she, q little shame
facedly, I'm afraid told most of them
about that time when You and p
well, when we what"
"Collaborated, dearest. Don't you re-
member?'-New Budget.