The Portland daily press., 1900-03-17
yoBsON WAS CAUGHT.
re Sought 60 Teach Mrs. JsBson a
Lesson.

ters from the postman, and she was
somewhat puzzled as TO who Mr.. Job
sons feminine correspondent could be.
She did not know the handwriting. 1t
was that Of none OF her female relatives
nor of his. However, she handed the
letter to him at the breakfast table, sim
ply asking, not in any particularly Gu
rious way:
"Who is IL fromT
an know better as to that after I've
opened it and seen the signature" re-
piled Mr.. Jobson choppily.
Mrs. Jobson ran over her own letters
while Mr.. Jobson was reading the mis-
siye addressed to him in the feminine
handwriting, and when she looked up
and across the table at her spouse he was
apparently suffused in bushes. and there
was quite an amount Of self satisfied
complncency in his manner.
Anything importantT inquired Mrs.
Jobson.
"Oh, / don't know" replied Mr.. job
son. leering at himself in the sideboard
mirror and twiddling with his fork.
"Is it from anybody l knewr inquired
Mrs. Jobson.
II think not" replied Mr.. Jobson. ad-
justing his ,cravat and pulling down his
cuHs IN n truly
Business matterr' asked Mrs. Jobson.
"Well. hardly that" answered Mr.. job
son, with another quite killing look at
himself in the sideboard glass.
Anything I'd be interested inr' in
quired Mrs. Jobson, not with any partieu-
lar indication of excitement nor any
evidence of pique.
II wouldn't undertake TO say as to
that" replied Mr.. Jobson, rubbing the
hair over on to the bald spot on the top
of his head. and smiling mysteriously to
himself.
When Mr.. Jobson was at the dessert
stage Of his dinner that evening, he look
ed up at Mrs. Jobson and said:
"Came near going out of your mind
from jealousy this morning, didn't you"
"Jealousy?" replied Mrs. Jobson, trying
to look as completely mystified as possi-
BILE. Jealous Of who? On account of
what? What do you
'Oh, i saw your eyes fash, and
thought you were going to have an at
tack Of apoplexy," said Mr.. Jobson.
Jealousy is a sorry business, Mrs. Job
son-it's feeling that men are incapable
of experiencing-their natures are SO
much larger and broader. you know.
Now, don't want you to go on suffering
acute misery over the communication l
received, addressed In a feminine hand.
this morning. and 50 I'll show it to you
on condition
81 have not the least desire in life to
see it," said Mrs. Jobson. She had, in
fact, already read it-when Mr.. Jobson
had changed his coat for his smoking
jacket on coming home from the office,
before he had thought to shift the letter
to his smoking jacket pocket.
Mr.. Jobson insisted upon her reading
1t, however, and for the second time she
read over begging letter, written by
the female secretary OF the Society For
the Raising ot a Sponge Cake Fund For
Indignant Infants, or something OF tat
sort.
When the postman delivered the first
mail on Tuesday morning last, there was
n letter for her addressed in a strong mas
culine hand. Mr.. Jobson was right be-
hind her, and she made an Intellectual
effort to hide the letter beneath her
house jacket. But Mr.. Jobson's eagle
eye had caught her in the attempt
who's that one from, Mrs. Jobson"
he asked her in a sharp voice.
(Which one?" inquired Mrs. Jobson, a
succession of well defined bushes cross
ing her face.
THAT lerter addressed in n mans hand
writing that you just stuck under your
waist" said Mr.. Jobson severely. Lets
just have n look at that after you've
read it, il you please"
But it's from Mrs. Jobson started
to say, looking quite extraordinarily
guilty, however. and faltcring in her
speech.
an just take the trouble to ascertain
-,lf h. zasI ~.
Jobson, "as soon as you've looked over
it. Pretty mysterious business, should
say. Why, of all the nerve that l ever
heard of. this is
And Mr.. Jobson jammed his hands
into his trousers pockets, rufled up his
hair and clomped up and down the dining
room.
Mrs. Jobson broke open the envelope,
hastily read the letter, returned it to the
envelope and looked greatly confused.
She started to tear the missive up, but
Mr.. Jobson was within two feet of her in
a stride.
"Ah-haw said he, his eyes blazing.
"You'd tear it up, would you? You'd
hide the evidence of-madam, I'll trou-
Bile you to hand me that letter, and at
once"
Mrs. Jobson drew back.
But I'd much rather not, and she
started to say.
THAT letter instantly, Mrs. Jobson!
Why, of all the outrageous"-
'Well, / suppose | shall have to sur
render it," said Mrs. Jobson shrinkingly,
and then she handed over the letter to
| Mr.. Jobson. 1t was from the correspond
ence clerk OF a Washington male tailor,
and it read:
"Madam-The skirt which you left
| with us to be made over and refined is
finished, and we beg to request that you
| call at your convenience and try same on,
| in order that we may be sure that it fits
satisfactorily"
"Ohw said Mr.. Jobson, mopping his
forehead. That's what it is, is it?"
"Men are incapable of experiencing
| such feeling as Jealousy, aren't theyT
inquired Mrs. Jobson, sweetly.
Jealousy. nothing" said Mr.. Jobson.
"Who was jealous? thought it was an
- N1af