The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1902-08-24

Yes, he replied.
You don't feel too warm with that
jacket on, do you, Archibald?' she ask
ed the kid solicitously.
No. said he.
II was waiting for Sis to give the
cub belt on the Jaw for not saying
'lna'am to her like a polite little man
when she spoke to him, and l was
amazed that she didn't even notice the
kids lack of manners.
Before the youngster started on the
errand his father called him:
. Archie, said the kids dad.
WHAT said the kid. just as he
had to his mother.
You remember the kind of cigars
you got for me at the cigar store
around the corner the last timer said
the boys dad.
Yes said the kid.
We'll, stop by there and tell the
man to send me another box of them.
And don't loiter on the way, will your
No. said the kid.
His father hadn't noticed the boys
lack of manners any more than his
mother had.
Look a-here, Sis said to my sis
ter when 1 got her alone, I'm not try
ing to butt in with any advice or stuff
like that, but why the dickens don't
you tear 4 picket off the fence and
| drub little bit of manners into that
boy of yolIr's?"
She looked at me in startled kind
| OF way and with quite a heap of re-
proach in her eyes at that.
Why said she, what in the world
| do you mean? Archibald is considered
| the best-mannered boy in the neigh
borhood.'
He is. hey?' said I, pressing on
Wen, dye call it polite for a six-year-
| old tad to say What" and Yes and
mo" to his mother and father without
prefixing an "ma'am or sir" to his re-
marks?'
Then my sister looked relieved and
| smiled.
"'Why, John, she said to me, I was
| AFRAID by the way you spoke that
| Archibald had been really impolte.
| Certainly we do not require him to say
"ma'am" or "sir" to us or anybody
else. Indeed, We should punish him If
he said any such things. 1t is not the
thing for children to say ma ann any
more. That sort of thing is now left
for servants.
Oh said l. but I couldn't help
| sizing my sister up out of the tail of
my eye and putting this question to
! her:
Sis, just supposing you or had
| dropped the ma am and Sir when
| we were young ones and were address,
ed by our old mother or dad what
dye think 'ud have happened to US,
| eh?"
THAT seemed to corner her bit, but
she wriggled out of it by saying that
we lived in an old-fashioned section OF
| the country where the folks were way
| behind the times, and all that.
| Maybe Sis was right concluded
the man from the West, "but at that,
I'm bound to say that it sort O. jars
| on me to hear the kids back this way
talking to their parents and other
| grown-up folks in those familiar terms.
| II say sir and 'ma'am' to old folks
right down to the present day myself,
| and I'm past 40 with pretty stable
bald spot on the top of my head and it
| doesn't hurt me any to say those
| things either. Comes natural, in fact,
| because l was raised to respect my
| elders, fashionable or not fashionable.
IF l wasn't a Grabbed old bach, and
| if l had a gang of young 'uns of my
! own around they'd get old-fashioned
| real quick and say sir or 'ma'am' to
| the grown-ups, or they'd be a whole
lot doing in the slipper and hairbrush
| line, and that's no tintinnabulation of
the bells, either
81 have decided not to marry" de-
| clared the Bachelor, as ne pulled al
his cigar and watched the smoke rings
| encircle his head.
The Woman, says tire Philadelphia
| North American, lifted her eyebrows
| questioningly, surprise in her blue eyes;
but she said nothing.
| at is all the fault of my married
! friends" he continued, refectively
'"rhey are so disappointing. They up
| set all a fellows ideas about the joys
| of married life at the most critical mo-
/ ment.
"Why, I was myself as good as mar
ried, had almost asked the girl, when
But that is another story"
| The Woman looked intensely inter-
| ested now, but wisely refrained from
asking questions. He smoked awhile
in silence, and then returned to the
original subject. 1t seemed to hang
| heavily on his mind.
| For instance, there was Tom" con-
| tinued the Bachelor, while the Woman
| slid down in her easy chair and watch
| ed him contentedly through half-closed
eyes. HE was in raptures every time
| l saw him after his engagement. So
| was she. Each assured me they had
| found their other self. They prattled
| of perfect sympathy, spiritual telepa-
| thy and unanimity of tastes, until I
| was both lonely and unhappy. Three
months after the wedding 1 called. She
| entertained with accounts of the trib-
| ulations of their honeymoon.
"Over his pipe Tom advised me con-
| fidentially not to marry. Married life
| is all very WE'LL he counseled, but
| somehow it is not what one expects it
will be- F4ai
| "A year later 1 saw them again.
| They were riora placid and more in
| different. Probably they We're happy,
but they did not look it. To me it was
| q shock.
"Then there was Fred. His idea of
| happy married life was to fit from
one resort to another, from town to
| country. Married life was to be a
dream of pleasure, a gay dance from
| year to year. Last week I found him
wheeling the perambulator for exer-
| else.
Fred fell in love with an intellec-
| tual girl. They were going to start
| a private Browning society, read i'm
| proving books to each other every even
| ings, and discuss them. 1t was a sane
| union. At least they said so.
II dined with them recently. Fred
| was disconsolate. He had found that
| a knowledge of cookery was not in
| cluded in an intellectual girls curric-
ulum. / agreed with him after that
| dinner.
Il really wish my married friends
were more satisfactory. l think they
| do not realize what they are under
| taking when they marry. This is espe-
| cially true of the girls. They think a
| man is next-doof to an archangel. I'M
| til they marry him, and find he is COM
a nd