The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1897-06-17
A Midnight Encounter.

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" ERNAL CHOICE was pretty and
n commodious villa, and Dovecot-
tam select and salubrious suburb. To
the happiness of Mr.. and Mrs. Maurice
Green-lately made almost complete by
the arrival of the veriest cherub that
ever came down from Heaven-there
were but two drawbacks. The first was
Of Maurice's making. He had ridic-
ulous fad about gas fittings. He be-
lieved them to be in chronic state of
leakiness. He told his long-suffering
wife almost daily that more gas escaped
through unsuspected cracks and defec-
tive joints than served to illuminate the
cozy rooms of Vernal Choice.
Mrs. Maurice Green's bugbear was
burglars. Nothing could shake her con-
viction that when q burglar took his
"dark suburban way" his objective
would be by decree of fate, Vernal
Choice. Thus it came to pass, that,
while Maurice was turning of
the gas at the meter-he would on no
account allow anyone else to do It, as
"gas is such fickle thing"-his little
wife was on her knees in the bedroom,
not, as might be supposed, saying her
prayers-though she made the same
kneeling serve both purposes-but tim
idly peering under the fowered terra
Gotta valances for the burglar that never
came.
Sometimes it would happen that the
gas popped out just as she was in the
act of raising the curtain that might
reveal the tragedy of her life, and then,
with little scream. she would seek the
matches-she never could put her hand
readily on the matches--and light the
delicately shaded candle on the dress
ing table, ere proceeding with her
search and her devotions. At such
times, when Maurice ascended from the
underground regions, where the gas
meter meted out it's dole, to the COM
pany of his wife above stairs, she would
rate him, right soundly for SO gentle a
little body, for what she styled his 'ab-
surd fad" about turning the gas off.
what do few extra feet of gas sig
Nifty, when three precious lives might
some night be sacrificed for lack of a
light?" she would exclaim, with as
much dramatic fervor as if she had beer
before a row Of footlights and a crowded
pit, instead of blue-tinted corrugated
candle and mildly scornful husband.
When Maurice wished to be wither
ing, he was always studiously allitera'
tive in his choice of words. He never
failed to pooh pooh the burglar notion
He said it was 1.-The merest moonshine,'
and that there were crowds of cost
lier cribs to crack than Verpal Choice
you bet!"
Mrs. Green, as a rule, deigned no an
swer. She hated slang, and wondered
how a man of Maurice's sense-except
upon the meter question-could stool
to it's use. She generally refrainet
from saying so, however, like the sensi
BILE little woman she was, and, resigned
ly filling the baby's feeding bottle, ant
tucking the little cherub with sundr,
croonings in its bedside cot retired To-
the night, leaving Maurice to blow ou
the corrugated candle.
1t was winter, and it was midnight
Maurice had a cold, and so had tn,
baby. The "little cherub," in fact. ha,
a "touch of bronchitis" and his har,
breathing as he slumbered restlessl,
in his little cot, plainly testified the fac
through the darkness.
II WONDER" murmured Mrs. Green
as she lay listening to the trouble'
breathing of the child on the one hand
and the influenza snore Of her HUSBAND
on the other-"I wonder II the 'littl
pet is warm enough. I'm anxious abou
his little chest. bless himi I'd take hir
into my bed, only Maurice doesn't lik
It. The little fellow kicks the clothe
of so! What could 1 do to preven
him from taking cold afresh? Happ
jthought!-there's that little woole
wrap in the spare bedroom. It's eithe
in the middle drawer Of the dressing
table or in the wardrobe, I know.
"Poor Maurice! he would willingl
60 and find it for me. but I wouldn
disturb him tonight for the worlt
I'm glad succeeded in persuading hir
to sleep in his dressing jacket. Thos
nasty influenza colds need care, an
I'm SO apt to uncover him in reachin
over to baby. I'll slip into the mex
room myself"
Thus soliloquizing she quietly got OF
of bed-for where baby came in fea
few out-pushed the turned back bee
clothes gently against her husband
back SO that he would not miss he
and proceeded to feel for the matche
The little receptacle at the bed hea
was empty. Not match! "Oh, dea
dear, why will Maurice insist upon turf
ing the gas of at the meter, especial
when the baby is unwell?" she sighe'
as she slipped into her dressing cow
which fortunately was hanging on Il
brass knob at the foot of the bed.
Slippers she could not find. Nil de
perandum! She knew to foot whel
the wrap was, or at least she though
.