The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1902-05-09
A PAIR OF SOCKS.
BY EMMA Nj. WISE.

how his feet got the worst OF the bargain.
just how his pedal eXtremities happened to
reach this high degree of saturation was
mystery even to Mr.. Biltmore, but that they
had reached it was painfully evident when
he got home and tried to take off his shoes.
As rule, his shoes slip off quite easily,
but that night they, as we'll as the rest Of
his garments, gave evidence of having en-
tered into an agreement to stick to him no
matter what befell, and, handicapped as he
was by fear of waking his wife, Biltmore
had long and fierce tussle with himself be-
fore he finally succeeded in disrobing.
Even after he did manage to creep into
bed his slumbers were anything but peace
full, and long before six o'clock the next
morning his conscience was prodding him
about before Mrs. Biltmore opened her eyes
on the disordered scene of his post midnight
revels.
Thus dashed by that memorable monitor,
Mr. Biltmore crawled out of bed and stood
waveringly in the midst of the sartorial con
fusion. To the right of him, to the left of
him and all about him lay odds and ends
of masculine and feminine wearing apparel.
As Biltmore looked upon the chaotic con-
fusion his head, which had been none too
steady to start with, lurched spasmodically
from side to side, and he toppled over
against rocking chair for support.
Presently he partially regained his equilib-
rum. After bathing his eyes and doing
few other little things to promote his gen
eral welfare he began to look for his socks.
He found them after awhile hanging over a
line near the window. He sat down in the
useful rocking chair and began to remon-
strate silently and earnestly with the re-
fractory hosiery.
First one foot, then the other, was jabbed
against the opening into the soft black
socks, but no matter how hard Biltmore
tugged and strained he found it impossible
to push even the tips of his toes past the
ankle without splitting the socks from heel
to toe Biltmore finally forced sock into
this half way position on either foot and
sat looking at the result ruefully.
"M' Lord" he groaned in spirit Glow
these socks did shrink las night. I've heard
OF things shrinkin' b'fore, but 1 never saw
anything shrink like these socks did'
With that he braced himself and pulled
with both hands. The force thus exerted
was more than even the best black silk
thread could stand, and with a ripping
sound the fibers parted company. The foot
of the sock lay spread out before him in
two separate pieces. In his dismay he gave
a desperate tug at its mate, and it, too, split
from end to end.
Biltmore surveyed the ruin obviously.
''I'm done for now" he soliloquized. Il
wonder where Carrie keeps m clean socks?
# can't find EN- I'll have to go downtown
barefoot, like in'cent country boy, that S
all. Sockless Jerry! Lord! Wonder how
I'll like it,"
Mr.. Biltmore then instituted an anxious
but Intellectual search of bureau drawers.
While thus engaged he caused a lock to
click with unnecessary emphasis, and Mrs.
Biltmore sat bolt upright, as if worked by
communicating spring, and looked about
wonderingly.
"For goodness sake, Tom," she demand
ed, what in the world do you mean by get
ting up so early?"
Bus ness, m DEAR" said Biltnnore, with
concliatory grin. Los bus ness to ten
to to-day. Have t get downtown ex-
tr'ord 'nar'ly early"
"What are you doing in the bureau:" she
asked.
'Lookin' f'r my socks, m DEAR" said
Biltmore "Lookin' f'r m socks. that all -
Mrs. Biltmore's gaze travelled to the mid
die of the floor, and the first object her eyes
lighted upon was the wrecked hosiery.
whats that?" she cried, in tense, clear
tones.
Biltmore tried to evade the query, but
it was no use "M' old socks, m dear" he
replied. 81 got m feet wet las night. NJ
socks shrunk like ever thing. Shrunk so
couldn't get 'em on. Tore EN- all to thun-
der"
Mrs. Biltmore reached the scene of de-
struction with one bound and dangled q
sock from each hand. Her eyes grew bright
and her breath came in little gasps like
sobs.
tom Biltmore, YOU big goose, she cried,
edo You know what you have done? These
are my socks that you have been trying to
get on-mine do you hear"
Biltmore leaned forward with a dazed
smile. But they're socks, m dear" he
demonstrated.
THAT is just what l said,' she retorted.
"Of course they are socks-my socks
but they're short" expostulated Bit
more still unconvinced. Women don't
wear short socks. They wear stock s.
long stock'ns."
Mrs Biltmore took from workbox on
the table the fashion note of the date OF
February %. mot any more they don't, "
she said Just read this and you'll find
out. Stockings are out of date. Socks are
all the style. Every woman that thinks any
thing of herself is going to wear them.
just got these yesterday | paid five dol
lars for them. They are rather expensive
now, because the fad of short socks for
women is now and the cheaper grades are
not yet in the market. And here you've
torn these into shreds. That's five dollars
gone to-to-."
"To thunder" supplemented Btmore,
filling in the pause with his own stock
phrase. "But where have my own socks
gone to, | wonder?' he added, hopelessly
wonder + they've gone to thunder, too:'
Mrs. Bltmore pointed to the wash
stand.
There she said, spread out across the
water pitcher"
Biltmore seized his own neither garments
and drew them through his fingers thought
fully.
"They look the right size" he said. 81
thought ii was mighty funny a pair o socks
could shrink like those socks did. IN. Y.
Press.
CnpitOlinc Art.