The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1900-05-25
IT MAY HURT HIS FEELINGS.
Dut the Story of Diggs and HislFur-
mace Must BE Told, Despite
DilPs sensitiveness.

There was only one false note in
the general harmony of things about
the household Of Diggs. 1t was the
furnace. When they moved into their
suburban home it was villa in
bower of summers beauty. Diggs
stretched his arms, and inhaled deep
breaths, and slapped his chest as he
paced through its roomy space, and
cursed the steam-heated fiat and it's
prison walls.
That was months before the fur
mace was started. By the time he
had paid coal bills of gradually in
creasing size from September to the
month of the ground hog, with pros
pect of four more still to come, Diggs
thought again.
But even the expense was small
compared to the strain on his nerves.
He would rise in the morning sing
ing sweet and tuneful airs, and call
the children pet names as he ran
blithely downstairs.
I'll just take a glance at the fur
mace. dear, before breakfast" he
would remark, casually, and the mo-
ments would pass, and the breakfast
would lose its tempting freshness and
become a thing passe and unlovely,
and from the basement regions there
would issue the dull reverberating
roar of subterranean commissions as
Diggs wrestled with his enemy. At
last haggard, begrimed, wild-eyed
creature would stagger up to the light
of day, and the children were sent
afar off, as the flood of his wrath
would burst forth in words unseemly
for tender ears to hear.
Robert, we must get man to at
tend to that furnace" Mrs. Diggs
would say anxiously. as she beheld
the wreck of nerves and moral COM
posure before her. II don't believe
that you really understand manag-
ing It,"
20, no, I don't" gasped the irate
Diggs in grim despair. 81 don't know
all its cunning little ways and ca
prices, don't. Send the baby down,
dear, to play with it. Show him how
to toy with it's pretty little hampers
and things. Let the children swim
boats in the water box. Let them
pop popcorn over it's soft and gentle
blaze. Understand it? I'll blow it
to the internal puppy-dogs with
dynamite one of these days"
And Mrs. Diggs held her peace.
But when lonely and low-voiced
tramp asked wistfully for food at the
back door she took him in and made
him one of the family
When Diggs came home that night
he started with muttered growls to
his wonted evening toll, but the wife
of his bosom intercepted him.
''I've got one,'' she said, in a whis-
per. eve put the cot down there,
and the looking glass from the bath
room, and that old chiffonier you
don't like, and I. told him he could
wash himself in the laundry, and he
knows all about running furnace"
"W-what is it?" asked Diggs, help
lessly, as he braced himself against
the wall.
IA tramp, papa" called the eldest.
''S-h-h-h-h," whispered Mrs. Diggs,
warningly. Hell hear you through
the register and it might hurt his
feelings. He's above his station.
Come right out to dinner dear. Isn't
1t lovely to be able to rest?"
It undoubtedly was. The house was
warm and cozy, but in spite of all
Diggs felt weight on him. The
registers became secret speaking
tubes, and he got into the habit of
moving stealthily away from one be-
fore he spoke for fear he might hurt
Bills feelings.
He missed favorite comb. Bill
had it,
His razor had been used. Bill need
ed clean shave.
His last clean shirt vanished. Bill
wanted one for Sundays.
A half-worn pair of gloves fed.
Bill always used gloves because it
saved his hands.
His morning paper was gone from
the front steps. Bill sat with his
feet on the furnace burning out the
gas, using his tobacco, reading the
news of the day.
But still he did not rebel, for the
furnace woes were things of the past,
and his nerves were tranquil.
Then came the blow that wrecked
the household unity. Diggs came
home and found weeping and wall
ing and gnashing of teeth. Bill had
flown. The furnace was out. The sill
yer was gone. The AK and shovel were
gone. Every portable thing of value
was gone, and the basement door
swung idly on its forced hinges in the
chill winter air.
"And he was SO gentlemanly,"
moaned Mrs. Diggs. "Send for the
police, Robert"
20, no, dear" Mr.. Diggs said, gen.
tly. 'It might hurt his feelings"
There was rap at the back door,
and when he opened it a plaintive
voice asked if they wanted anyone to
look after their furnace. Diggs threw
the potato masher and couple of
f1atirons out into the night, and like
wise rich and varied curse, then
barricaded the door and strode back
to the icy dining-room.
"Only friend of Bills. Mrs. Diggs,"
he said, savagely. II am afraid hurt
his feelings. Chicago Tribune.
Nexti
L.