The record-union., 1897-03-23
TRIALS OF SUBURBAN LIFE.
Troubles of the Patient Commutei
Set Forth.

Has the snow plow gone past yet,
Amabel?" earnestly inquired Mr.. $50
late of Lonesomehurst, as he was hur-
riedly breakfasting, in his ulster, by
lamp light, in the Isolates' chilly little
dining room the other morning, pre-
paratory TO taking his train to New
York.
Yes, Ferdinand" Mrs. Isolate an
swered, cheerfully, readjusting his ear
muffs, one Of which had nearly fallen
into the condensed milk, as she how
cred lovingly and admiringly over him
in her last winters cloak. THE coffee
is all right, Ferdy," she treasured him,
as he set his cup down and regarded it
peculiarly. THE reason it has that
funny taste is because / had to make it
from melted snow this morning, F'erdy.
l was not going to tell you, if you did
not notice it; but the water pipes froze
so hard last night that l haven't dared
10 start the kitchen stove yet, for fear
of the water front blowing up. How
ever, l got along nicely by holding the
coffee pot and frying pan over the
piano lamp" she added triumphantly.
But, Ferdy, you haven't got your col
lar on" she chided him with mild Sc
verify.
mo, dear" Mr.. Isolate responded
reassuringly; not, however daring to
remove his eyes from his watch lying
open by his plate, but l have it in
my pocket, all right, with my cuffs and
necktie-another sandwich, Amy-and
l would put the student lamp under Inc
stove to thaw out the water pipes
Very well. But gracious! l don't
think you have time for another sand
wich-have you, Ferdy?''
1T is for my pocket. I'll eat it on
the way to the train
''Oh, Ferdy. You ought to have a
shave. This makes three days, now,
you haven't
Tn going to do it at noon at the
office, dear. I have my razor, and there
is warm water there. If that is little
Clarence moving about upstairs, have
him come down and get under the ia
BILE and lace my left shoe
1T is only the new cook just getting
up, love. Ferdinand, was that the
whistler" Mrs. Isolate cried wildly
'N-no, that is the toot of the 5:3S
a. m. typewriters' through express-so
my watch is all right her husband
answered, after listening attentiyely a
moment and regarding his watch
sharply. Button my vest, please,
Amy"
In a minute, dear Have you taken
your quinine capsule?'
Yes; I took it with the last roll"
Mr.. Isolate had kept his gaze SO intent
ly riveted upon his watch that the
hands SUDDENLY seemed stationary. He
seized it and clapped it excitedly to his
ear. Pumpkin busters. l thought it
had stopped, but il hasn't" ne ex-
claimed weakly. with his mouth full.
Then that gives you all of six and
three-fourth minutes more, Ferdy," his
wife returned, cheerfully.
Yes. Is my lantern lighted, love: ="
NO. I don't think you will need it
this morning my dear; the snow makes
it seem quite light out Oh, Ferdinand,
you have gotten on one regular shoe
and one patent leather one again in the
dark"
Never mind, now love-" Mr. Isolate
returned, indifferently, the arctics will
cover them up. Only five minutes to
run that three minutes walk to the
stationi Good-by, dear" And Selling
his pepsin gum and slipping his watch
into his ulster pocket with the sand
wich, Mr.. Isolate kissed his wife and
hurried out into the morning twilight
Puck