Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1897-06-10

| NeIS IL I'LL evil - Splrtb SnOV GIDOuBnU
into my soul. "It is just seven CLOCK,
said I, as I stood in the lonely and not
very orderly apartment. "What fine
chance to give Winnie an object lesson!
I have talked good deal, now I will
demonstrate. I will prove to her that
she consumes too much time and nerv-
Gus force in doing her simple household
duties. To be sure, have greater ply
steal strength than she has, but I will
make all due allowance for that in my
application. can get away at nine
o'clock, and by taking the Ninth avenue
express train, cam get to the Office on
time, and in two hours what transfer"
nation there will bel"
Winnie had left the breakfast dishes
piled up in the kitchen, on top of the
tubs near the sink. Iwould make short
work with them. 1 had often, when
the shades were pulled down and l
thought nobody could see me, wiped
the dishes for her, and it wouldn't be
much work to wash them. But would
begin in the dining-room, for meant
to be thorough. So I swept the crumbs
from under the table, and rearranged
the things on the beaufct; but dear me!
how the time did fly, till I was obliged
to finish off with q feather buster. l
don't approve of feather busters, they
only flip the dust up in the air to come
back again just where it was before. 1
have often said this to Winnie.
Then looked into the bedrooms. How
dusty the rugs were! I concluded to
give them q good shaking. Just then,
the front door bell rang, md l rushed
into the kitchen to press the door
opener, then back again to the rugs. II
ought to get them done before my Wis
itor mounts the long stairs" said /, so
1 flung open the blinds and shook the
rugs vigorously out into the air shaft,
the wind blowing the dust directly back
again into the room. At this juncture
my opposite neighbor put her head out
of her window, and called me to account
for Haunting my dust in upon her. Our
eyes met. should never have known
her to be the lady in silks and velvets
I had seen on the street (Winnie always
looks the lady, even at her work., and
she seemed taken aback at seeing me
with dishevelled hair and my necktie
under my left ear. We did not continue
the conversation. I hastily shut down
the window, and hurriedly brushed the
dust from my clothes, SO that 1 could
decently open the door for the some
body who was ringing and ringing, so
necessarily that I thought the elevated
train had run off the track, and that
Winnie and Philip were both killed.
It was boy with bundle
''Does Mrs. Cunning live here%
'eNo, you little rascal, and don't you
ever ring my bell like that again!" I
am afraid that I slammed the door and
said things. But I couldn't stop to
get mad, for tho time was running
along as if it had thousand legs
7:45, and things looked worse than when
I commemorate spread down the
rugs and rushed to the kitchen, for 1
must wash the dishes.
I took down the dishpan and put
some pearline in it, as I had often seen
Winnie do; put in the cleanest dishes
and turned on the hot water, but no
hot water came; only air, with q scorn-
full snort and q prolonged suffering
then-nothing. "Now, what am I to
do? Hello, janitor!" I shouted down
the dumb waiter, whats the matter
with the hot water?" The reply came
ND, in the dulcet tones of the janitor's
wife, "Jist wait bit, and it'll come ali
right, and don't We be botherin' me"
It moaned and sighed and snorted, but
it didn't come, so in my desperation
turned on the cold water. 1t wasn't
nice. but pitched in and did my best
"There, what's that?" said 1. "Isthat
the front door bell again?" I opened
the door from the kitchen and went on
with my work; nobody came up, and
the bell continued to ring, alternating
with shrill whistlings- THAT must be
the postman. suppose he has got q
package too large to go into the box or
a registered letter. I have no time to
90 downstairs" But there was no al
tentative; down I had to go.
"a letter, sir; one cent due"
didn't trust myself to speak, but
paid the cent and few up the stairs
again.
Dear me-" said I, as began my task
again, what lot of dishes for our
little family And yet am always so
particular about having clean plate
and spoon for everything. If had this
thing to do every morning should
sooD become q gibbering idiot Here
are big plates and little plates, cups and
saucers, bowls, platters and pitchers
chow hate to wipe pitcheus), tumblers
md spoons, knives and forks and,
worse than all, the frying pan, the oat-
meal boiler and the coffee pot (and the
coffee pot is worse than pitcher)." I
resolved over and over again never to
use more than one plate at n meal;
never to drink any more coffee, nor to
eat anything which would leave a hor'
rid pan to be washed. made pretty
good time, however, though I was not
very proud of my work. The things
didn't look as bright and clean as they
ought to, and could not stop to finish
them all. sincerely wished that had
never begun. In my frantic efforts to
finis.. up I had turned the little kitchen
into sort Of pandemonium. But time
was flying, and I must get off.
Again the front doorbell rang. This
time it was Mrs. Jones, to see Winnie
1 should have thought, when she saw
the glare IN my eye, that she would have
gone right downstairs again, but she
didn't. She wanted to get her breath,
she said, so she stepped inside and
leaned against the wall, and talked and
talked, and kept me answering idiotic
questions, as to how we all were, and
whether Philip had got over his cold
ntc have often found fault with