Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1900-10-18

the queens household bunch. who
looks like two or three different brands
of Greek god who drinks IA gallons of
brandy and soda every night and wakes
up every morning asterward without
so much as a bad taste in the mouth.
and who can beat every professional
steeplechase jockey in Great Britain
a-riding hands down-have you come
to. the part vet where he gets into
wrestling match with the champion
pugilist of the globe, and hurls the
champion II feet through one of the
walls of the tapestried drawing-room
where the contest takes place. and"
oh" said Mrs. Jobson, still smil~
ing. there is nothing of that kind
either in this"
"Ain't, Ley?" shifted Mr.. Jobson.
well. have you reached the chapter
vet where the young woman who has
been sent to a girls school in the city
from a farm returns, after five years,
to the farm and is made weary by the
sight of the wrinkles on her paws
neck. and the. clabber-covered aprons
worn by her poor old mother and the
hired men in harvest time devouring
pies for breakfast. and where the
young woman, full of the inspiration
of the higher and nobler and the in
fuence of alien environment. decides
that she will shake down the coin hid
in the crock on top of the pantry and
flee to the great city, where she will
study to become a sculptress and make
ST. Gaudens and CanOva and Thor
waldsen and few other cheap figure
makers like that look like
but this work. interrupted Mrs.
Jobson again, sis really utterly diff
ferent from what you
Still different, eh?' said Mr.. job
son. well. then, | suppose has to
do with the scapegrace son of the
enormously rich English ironmaster
who, after having engaged himself to
the fourteenth daughter of one of the
poorer jukes of the realm, sees an
American girl at the running of the
Derby and straightway gets to moon
ing so about her so that he can't sleep
o nights, and finally musters enough
nerve to go and tell the juke about it,
and is spitted On the end of a rapier
at dawn in the julle's trusty right
hand for his caddishness, and then"
'NO, | fear you have not yet"
Haven't hit the motif of that fine
bit of Sunday reading you've been
porting over yet, hey?' went on Mr..
Jobson, still striding up and down the
room. We'll, it's probably one of those
hasheesh colonial stories, then, where
one George Washington. one time
president of the United States, is made
to figure in a whole lot of idiotc adj
ventures, or where some huge young
cub from one of the American colonies
goes over to England on a ship and
| gets captured b. pirates four or five
times on the way, which makes it
possible for him to have frieaseed pi-
rate for breakfast every morning of
the voyage for quite a long stretch of
weeks. and when he gets to England
he makes such hit with the court
and with himself that all of the young
Mayfair bucks and Belgravia blades
become jealous of MIN. and"
again" said Mrs. Jobson. Il fear
you have quite failed to guess just"
Have. eh?' said Mr.. Jobson. ''All
right It's probably enc of those man
and wife social study affairs, where
the wife, after carefully thinking it
over, comes to the conclusion that her
husband, who is the proprietor of a
large and prosperous soap factory that
yields him an income of $4,000 per
annum. most or which he spends on
her-where this wife. / say comes to
the conclusion that her husband don't
know enough about the esoteric and
II II ~
tenn and the science of repose, and
that the gradually thickening roll of
fat on the back of his neck is becom-
ing wearisome to her. anyhow. not TO
speak of the obvious enjoyment with
which he drinks buttermilk, and
where she makes a proposition to him
that they draw up separation articles.
whereby he is to continue handing her
over $4,000 per annum of the $4,000
that he earns. and that she is to be al
lowed to"
No" said Mrs. Jobson. this book
doesn't relate particularly to the mod
ern coniugal state. nor does it"
Doesn't eh?" said Mr. Jobson
well. its too much like work to fur
nish guesses as to what it does relate
TO. considering the amount OF mind
poisoning rubbish that you contrive
to get through in the progress of
year But rs a good wager that. if
it hasn't to DO with any of the themes
I have touched upon. il is in every re-
spect Just as idiotic as any or all of
them. and | can't understand how
woman of ordinary intelligence. who
makes such a great TODD about her
church work. and who sort o glares
at me when I 60 to the front door to
buy the papers on Sunday morning.
can square it with her idea of the fit
ness of things when SIR finds herself
bending all day Sunday over a piece
of nonsensical fiction that any mum
bling schoolboy knows IS about as
true TO life as
NJ Tol,coD a+iII -, linn rosa sof-