The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1896-02-22
AElHiIFE:5 ' EXAMINATIONS ]',|',
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An odd smile crept around Johns
mouth as he turned back to his desk,
and, dipping his stub pen into his
ink-well, he hastily finished his week.
| ~ article for the Boston Globe.
The weeks sped by, and Catherine
Bluestocking's interest and enthusi-
asm in the Ideal Club remained una
bated. She was unfailing in attend
ance, and devoted to the preparation
of the papers she was called upon to
write. She haunted the public Ii
braries in search of knowledge, and
spent hour porting over musty books
of reference. Day after day, and
night after night, she bent over her
desk, piled with papers, and scrib'
bled to her hearts content; while John
sat by, smoking his solitary pipe.
Occasionally, when Catherine had
become so absorbed in her writing as
to be utterly oblivious of his pres
ence, John would slip away to the
Hob Mob, and while away an hour
with his friends at game of whist.
Despite this diversion, however,
Johns spirits were steadily failing
him, and one night he walked into
the Hob Mob Club House, in quite a
savage mood. A half dozen or more
gentlemen were lounging about the
room when he entered, and walking
up to them he said, as he twirled a
button of his coat that was hanging
by one thread: "Boys, have you
ever heard of the Ideal Club?"
Jim Solid and Sam Verybright
looked at each other and smiled, while
Tom Wisdom threw down his paper
with very loud sigh.
Il should say we had," cried he.
Don't our wives all belong to itp'
"Mrs. Questioning has Joined it,
too" said John.
81 concluded So" answered his
friend, glancing Significantly at the
loose buttons on Johns coat, and
pulling down his own sleeve to hide a
frayed cuff.
"She writes papers from morning
till night, and never has moments
time to talk to a fellow, or toto
sew on his buttons" cried John,
growing red in the face. "Now, 1 say
something must be done"
"There must" cried the others in
chorus.
"And l have an idea," continued
John.
"Air it |" cried the chorus.
"Hypnotism," said John, slowly.
The men stared.
you've all read Trilby, of course"
said John, impatiently. "Now Sven
gall hypnotized Trilby and made her
sing, and 1 propose to hypnotic
Catherine and make her sew"
A burst of laughter followed this
announcement; but after little dis
cussion the four gentlemen shook
hands and departed to their several
homes, intent on trying the expert
ment.
The next evening, as Catherine
Bluestocking bent over her desk, her
husband walked softly into the room.
Placing a pile of buttonless shirts,
and stockings with airy heels and
openworked toes, on a stand, together
with his wife's work basket, he moved
it close beside the desk. Fixing his
eyes on her face with an intent gaze,
he began making silent passes before
her with his hands, and presently she
looked up.
"What is the matter joint Are you
ill.," said she, meeting his stern eyes
with a surprised look.
John made no answer, but still
glared at her, and waved his hands
wildly.
How ridiculously you are behav-
ing, John! What do you mean9"
cried Catherine, pushing back her
chair and turning around. AS she
did so,her eyes fell ON the work-stand
with its pile of mending, and quick
as flash the situation dawned upon
her.
Sitting a desire to laugh which
nearly strangled her, she dropped her
lids over her eyes, and leaned back
in her chair with long sigh. Slowly
and mechanically she reached out
her hand to the work basket, and,
picking up the little gold thimble,
placed it upon her ink-stained finger;
and Johns heart began to beat fast
at the success of his experiment.
A long silence fell upon them
while Catherine fastened buttons to
their respective places, and swiftly
filled up holes with dainty weaving;
while John sat bolt upright in his