The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1900-07-17
Mrs. Blakey anxiousTy. "she's a little

Mrs. Blakey anxiousIy. "She's little
particular, you know"
'She's sure to like it! You women
never seem to understand what a sense
of satisfaction it is to the employee
when he feels a systematic hand on
the helm. Why, the people who work
for you would rather have things run
pretty strict than not to feel system in
the management. They want. to know
there's a head planning things for
them. I've found that out in business.
I tell you, all that housekeeping needs
to make it run easy is the application
of masculine brains and business meth
bdsi Nora will like it. all right
enough"
But Nora didn't. Loyal Mrs. Blakey
presented the plan as joyfully as If it
were her own pet project, but her eff
fort to catch and impart her husbands
enthusiasm about it was a dead fail
ure. Nora looked very glum as she
| pinned the typewriter code of signals
up by the kitchen clock, and Mrs.
Blakey felt GUNNER still as she fas-
tened her own copy on the edge of her
mirror and stood mumbling over its
| words.
zone long ring and two short
finger bowls" she repeated. Zone
short and two -repassing article
last served Two long rings-clear
table for next course Three short
rings-refll water glasses oh, dear"
she broke off suddenly. II sometimes
wish David wouldn't take so much in
terest in making my work easy"
But Dayid's interest kept right up.
He urged the use Of the code with I'M
firing zeal, and one day when pretty,
filed the water glasses in answer to
"three short rings" he glowed with I'M
speakable pride and declared that they
must really give dinner
Flight is the proper number for our
table," he told his wife. And then he
began to plan the menu.
Mrs. Blakey was cheerful, gay lit
tie body at the time of her marriage,
and the sparkle isn't entirely gone.
She looked very pretty on the night of
the dinner. The table was perfect; the
cut glass blazed with rainbow hues,
the silver dazzled and the floral cen
terpiece was q credit to Mr.. Blakey'S
taste The feast was to be rather more
pretentious than anything Mr.. Blakey
had heretofore planned, but he had no
fears about the service. He relied on
the code Mrs. Blakey, on her part,
was determined to please David by ap-
pearing quite unconscious whenever
she signaled Nora. The consequence
was that her smiles and attention to
the man on her left during the soup
course half turned his head.
"How delightfully."- clever; do tell me
anothery' Mrs. Blakey was saying to
him, brightly as her small foot pressed
the button and telegraphed Nora to
"clear table for next course"
Nora Appeared dream of delight in
a black dress, an exquisite apron and
brand new butterfly cap that Mr..
BIakey himself had selected and
brought home for the occasion. She
waited for the cue. She never SO much
as glanced at Mrs. Blakey, who in her
turn kept her eyes determinedly away
from the maid as she chatted on with
the man at her left. Nora fitted about,
deity removing soup plates.
Suddenly Mrs. BlalSey felt herself
pierced by her husbands gaze. Great
heavens! What was the girl doing?
Finger bowls after the soup! Had she
given her the wrong signal? The
guests were looking puzzled and
watching their hostess. Mrs. Blakey
rose to the occasion and desperately
dipped her fingers, while she peremp-
torily gave the signal for next course.
Away went the finger bowls, and Nora,
with wild look in her pretty eyes,
began to bring in black coffee.
'sHorribler' calculated Mrs. Blakey
to the man on her left, who had just
finished quoting her little quatrain OF
his own. Then she apologized, with
one eye on him and another on Nora, |
who was floating past her, all uncon-
scious Of appealing glances and furtive
clutches at her sleeve. The code OF
signals was eddying like whirlpool
In Mrs Blakey's mind. The coffee was
finished and something must be done.
She gave one long, continuous ring,
and watched breathlessly to see what
would turn up. A cold Precipitation
started upon her forehead. Another
round of finger bowls! And while they
were using them, Nora, with a face
like a lobster, passed the bread.
1t was long dinner-the largest and
most indigestible that either he or Mrs.
Blakey had ever eaten-but 1t came to
an end at last. The guests had de-
parted, and Mr.. Blakey stood with his
hands in his pockets looking reproach-
fully at his wife as she sobbed it out
ON a sofa pillow.
Suddenly she sat up and gave a
shrek of laughter. Then another and
another
Eleanor! Eleanor cried Mr.. Bla-
key, in alarm. whats the matter? Is
it-hysterics"
"Hysterics-n she echoed, with
another burst of laughter. "It's-it's
masculine brains and business meth
odsr'
And that was one time when Mr..
Blakey spelled out new page in his
primer of life.-Chicago Record.