The Canton times., 1900-11-02

formed in the mysteries of her art.
| Glancing little further down the
book Mr.. Smyler found an entry
which made him gasp for breath. He
rubbed his eyes and looked again, but
there it was: "Beers, $1O."
At first he could not believe his eyes,
it must be some opti, al illusion, but
no, there it was as plain as day:
Beers, $1O." Could it be possible
that this girl-wife of his, whom he
rather looked upon from the lofty
height of masculine superiority as an
overgrown child, but whom he loved
more dearly than he was wont to ex-
press by outward signs; could it be
| possible that his Nettie had gotten so
| low as to drink beer, and at such
rate-$10 worth in month. And she
| must have run up score at some
store, or, more horrible to contem-
plate, at some saloon. The thought
was sickening, horrifying. What
shall / do?" he moaned. "No, sir;" he
exclaimed, suddenly jumping up from
the table, "I'll have none of this; I'll
show her that such things can't go on
in this house while / am master of it,
and | will be master of it, too, in the
proper sense of the woru. | will show
her that she has no fool to trifie with
and bring disgrace on" and he
brought down his fist on the innocent
cash book the cause of all the
trouble. "I'll see"
"Why, Joe Smyler, what are you do
ing? Didn't know you were going
into the stump speech business?" said
Mrs. Smyler, as she stood in the door
way, amazed at her husbands behav-
ior. What is the matter?"
Mrs. Smyler," began the injured
husband, with all the dignity he could |
assume, Il thought when l married
you l was marrying a self-respecting
young woman who would be not only |
help to me, but an honor to herself |
and the community in which we live,
and now | find that you are"
What, Joe Smyler, do you dare to
insinuate?"
Il don insinuate anything, mad
am; please hear me out if you have
sufficient respect left for me to grant
that courtesy. | simply speak from
what l have seen, and when my wife,
shame that l should call her by such
name"
Il won't listes to another word;
you must be crazy"
This appears to me to be addition
al evidence of your guilt, but you
shall hear me through. ] say when
my wife goes so far down as to drink
beer at the rate of $40 worth in sim
gle month"
you great big story teller"
gasped Mrs. Snyler, almost choking
with amazed wrath, 81 never drank
beer in all my life, so there" And
she started to cry.
'Do you think, Mrs. Smyler, you
can fool me with your loud assertions
of innocence? Have l not your hand
writing as proof against you?"
"Where?"
Here" And he handed her the
cash book with his finger pointing on
the terribly significant outline. She
gave one look at it, then rushed for
the door. He caught her before she
reached it, however.
Let me 60" she demanded.
"Where are you going?'
''To get a policeman and DOCTOR"
What for?"
"To have you arrested and examined
as the craziest lunatic l ever heard
Of"
What do you mean, woman?" said
he, sternly, you can't trife with me
in any such way"
at seems to me, SIR she replied, as
new to her nature, you are doing the
trifling. Any man who pretends to
know as much as you do and to be
able to read his wife's writing, and
then not to be able to see that sc"
which makes your bugaboo of a
beers into berries is the nearest
10 a crazy man of anybody / ever
heard of. Beers, indeed" and she
laughed hysterlcally, ''it seems to me,
Joe Smyler, you have been taking
beers, or something great deal
stronger. and more than $40 worth of !
them. too"
Mr.. Smyler was dumbfounded. He
looked once more at the book and
there. sure enough, was the ''e" in its
proper place, but so small that in
his haste he had overlooked it.
"Well, what does $40 mean, then?' |
he asked, not more than half con-
rinced even yet.
Il suppose | put it in the wrong
space, that's all" she replied defiantly,
and if YOU must know. il is ten cents