The Mason County journal. [volume] (Shelton, W.T.) 1886-1927, 1901-03-29
Aren't Men Ungrateful

4 TONE o'clock on Monday afternoon
~ last Mr.. Jobson brought an old
schoolmate of his, whom he hadn't
seen or heard of for years, up to his
house for lunch.
Monday, it is not necessary to remind
our gentle readers, is wash day in all
well-regulated households.
Mr.. Jobson hadn't been home fol
lunch. except on Sundays and holidays
for years. OF course, it just happened
that out of the seven days in the week
Mr.. Jobson could have lighted on none
other so suitable for bringing an old
luncheon as on Monday-wash day
Men don't know anything about the
dreariness of wash day, anyhow. They
see the ironed linen stacked up on the
bed on Thursday evening, say, and they
vaguely wonder how it was done and
where it came from and who did it, and
so on. If rainy weather or some other
interTosilion of providence prevents its
being stacked up on the bed on Thurs
day evening, and the boss of the house
happens TO be out of handkerchiefs, he
gazes witheringly at the wife of his
bosom, accuses her of spending all her
time at the bargain counters to the
total neglect of her household duties,
and in general gives vent to a torrid
flow OF masculine unreason. That's the
ext; ut OF the male knowledge of linen
cleG nsing.
Mr.. Jobson happened to have for
ter lis latch key when he went to the
office CT Monday morning, and so when
be brought along his old school pal
to bis house lie rang the door bell. The
servant being busy in the basement
handling tie washing, Mrs. Jobson,
thinking hat the bell ringer was prob
ably rug peddler or book agent or
some sEch parsonage, answered the
ring herself. Mrs. Jobson had been as
sisting the servant with the linen. She
was in ali out-at-elbows red eiderdown
wrapper, with the sleeves rolled way
up. and her hair was done up tightly
in Lids. Her nose was shiny from the
steam of wash day. When she saw
Mr.. Jobson and his swell-looking COM
panicn. she simply bolted up the front
stairs for it, Mr.. Jobson exuding a mer-
ry, if somewhat hard sounding, laugh
as Sic went.
"Ah, caught you in house neglige,
did we, my dear?" he called up the
stairs after her in a rollicking, oh-how-
raughty-naughty tone voice, that yet
had certain metallic ring in Mrs. Job
sons ears.
I'll be down in justa minute" called
Mrs. Jobson over the banisters, and
then MIR. Jobson and his d.school chum
wen; into the parlor. Mrs. Jobson
hastily dug out the powder chamois and
touched up her face, put on presentable
garments. removed the kids from her
hair and set it right, and then she made
her appearance in the parlor.
My dear, you've often heard me
speak of Tommy Swiftboy, my old
schooimate, haven't you?" said Mr.. Job
son, formally presenting his friend to
his wife. Remember my telling you
how we played hooky once for three
weeks at stretch and hid our books
under sidewalk every day? Well.
here's the self-same hooky player
blew i'll on me at my Office this morn
ing' and, although l wouldn't say it
TO his face, I'm just tickled to death to
see him. Brought him up to see what
nice little plant I've got-his dad used
to say that we'd both of us land in
states prison before we came of age.
And here am, settled-down old fopy.
and he's got wife and three chill
dren--got their pictures in his watch
at his home in New York. wanted to
Crag him off to a restaurant for bite
to eat, but he wouldn't hear of it
wanted to look me over under nv own
vine and fig tree, he said, and he hates
restaurant or hotel cookery. Can't we
have just little bite Of luncheon, my
dear2"
Mr.. Jobson gazed at Mrs. Jobson
amiabiy. but with meeting of the eve
brows that said, as plain as day: "And
1t wants to be an almighty neat lunch
con, at that"
Mrs. Jobson's heart sank as she
thought of the remains of Sundays tur-
key in the refrigerator, and nothing
else. The steamy fragrance of the
wash-day suds that permeated the
house caught Mr.. Jobson's nostrils. and
he shifted wonderingly and win no
manifestations of enthusiasm over it.
Nothing elaborate, my dear, you
know" said Mr.. Jobson, with a search
ing look at Mrs Jobson. "Just what
you've got in the ice chest, you know.
Mr.. Swiftboy is domestic man, and
he understands that we may Lave taken
you unprepared."
Mr.. Jobson's glances at Mrs. Jobson
said as plainly as if the words were
written on a placard hanging around
orn ass ckTARRH