The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1897-07-06
Joe's Wife.
BY GRACE


OF an important surgical opera
ton performed that morning. The mud
spattered up from the street as he rolled
along; and the chilling November driz
zle gave to the familiar trees a forlorn,
almost CHASTITY aspect. His heart
warmed as he pictured to himself his
wife watching for him, with q welcome
smile from their cozy parlor; dinner
ready. and a long, restful evening be.
fore them.
But, as he drew near home, no cheer,
full light streamed from door or win.
dow. ALI seemed as dark and deserted
as the dripping street. He threw the
reins to the boy whose duty it was to
hold the horse on their professional
rounds, and flung open the front door
with an irritated, injured feeling.
No tender smile; no sympathetic
voice; no freight; no dinner, appar-
emily.
"Elinorl" he called.
No answer.
"EIinorI"
Tnis time a voice spoke out of the
darkness-a tired voice.
DO be more quiet, John; the
baby is j list going to Sleep"
"Contound it'll Why isn't there a
light here, and why isn't the baby
asleep before this timeR"
HE has been fretful all day with his
teeth; and I have not had a chance to
change my dress even," was the an
swer.
A wailing cry from the nursery sent
the voice hurrying thither; and the doc
tor, with some words not quite audi
BILE, proceeded to light the gas and take
off his damp o~vercoat. The house was
cold; the parlor had evidently been
arranged by Hibernian hands; an odor
of something burning stole in from the
kitchen religions. A pleasant recep.
ton, truly, fora man after a long days
work.
He ran upstairs with no gentle foot
steps. His wife sat by the nursery
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and she had On the same blue gown
which she had donned for breakfast.
The baby, at length, slept in her arms.
She held up a warning finger as her
husband anne laundering in, but al,
ready baby's light slumber had been
disturbed; and the process of soothing
and singing had to be all repeated for
fftieth time. y,
It seemed to the young mother as if
her patience could hold out no longer.
1t was provoking to have the little one
startled from his uneasy dreams again.
She knew Bridget would spoil the din
ner. She had been trying ell day to
get down stairs to make the house
pleasant with q magic touch here and
there. She longed to get into a fresh
gown and brush her hair; but there
had been no chance for her to do one of
these things. Nurse was away with a
sick sister; and babies always deman
ded more from their mammas than
from anyone else. They are tyrannical
little darlings, and know and seiza
every opportunity toprove their power
over the anxious, half-ignorant young
mothers who are happy, after all, to
be slaves in such q sweet service.
When, at last, the dinner bell rang,
Mrs. Ford laid baby gently in his crib,
sound asleep this time, warn and lovely
in his utter repose. She gave a hurried
dab at her ~avy locks, caught up a
fresh handkerchief, and ran down to
join her husband, who sat at the table,
a decidedly cross look upon his fine
face. He barely tasted the soup, then
pushed it away in disgust.
"Burned3" asked his wife.
"Of course. Can't you smell it all
over the houseG Why don'T you look
after Bridget a little9"
"Why, John, 1 have hardly been
down stairs to day"
"Where's Hannah9"
''She went to her sisters last night
''Ohl yes; / forgot. What's this
Gold corn beef Really, Elinor, have
you nothing else9"
would you like an omlet, joint
"No.. A beefsteak, if there is n in
the house."
Mre. Ford rose herself and went into
the kitchen. The girl, of course, had
just filled up the range with fresh coal
so there was nothing to be done but to
make the best of the cold meat, pota'
toes and macaroni, followed by a des
sert of apple pudding and cheese.
DIR. Ford found fault with the pota