The Jasper weekly courier. [volume] (Jasper, Ind.) 1858-1922, 1904-05-27
WOman's Work

a. :
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Peter Carter pushed his chair
back from the table and surveyed
the faded little face on the opposite
side of the tea tray
Faded enough now, though she
was barely twcnty-sc,cn. You would
hardly have believed how fresh and
pretty Carry Carver had been on
her wedding day. Her husband saw
the change. but somehow he sup
posed all women faded just so.
There is SO much TO do, Peter,
and the children demand SO much
OF my time pleaded the meek wife.
IF were manager in this house
hold thing would happen very diff
ferently."
Il have no doubt Of it,, said Car
~ quietly.
There is no earthly reason" went
on Mr. Carver, igurring the sarcas-
tic meaning of her tone, "why the
work shouldn't be done and You
dressed and enjoying yourself, cult
yating Your mind or something, at
IL O'Clock every morning that you
live. Washing up few dishes,
sweeping room or two, what does
it all amount To-? Why, my dear,
don't you see the folly of asking for
a servant to help you do nothing at
ALP
The morning sunshine crept
down the pale green wall paper,
sprinkling drops of gold on the few
little geranium plants that Peter
called a waste of time" and lay in
noon splendors on the carpet, and
still Carry Carver stood there,
thinking
Garry. Aren't you going to get
up this morning: 1t is half past :,
and
Il cannot, Peter" groaned Carry,
turning her face away from the
light. Il am suffering such dreadful
pains in that foot | sprained last
night"
"Well, what shall | do?"
"You must take charge of the
housekeeping yourself, Peter" said |
Carry, hiding in the folds of her
pillow Its only for a day or two,
and | don't know Of any help you
can obtain. 1t won't be much, you
know"
That's true" said Peter, some
what encouraged.
please darkcn the room, and |
keep the children away, and don't |
speak to me if YOU can help it. / |
have such a racking headache, and |
the least excitement drives me |
Wild"
Peter shut the door with distract
ing caution and went downstairs on
creaking tiptoe. As he passed the /
nursery door a duet Of voices chimed |
on his ears.
Papa, papa, we are not dressed.
DRESS yourselves, then, can't |
youY' said Mr. Carver, pausing.
pet is too little to dress herself" |
said Tommy loftily, "and mamma
always dressed me"
"Where are your shoes?"
Il don't know" said Tommy, /
with his finger in his mouth.
81 know" said Pet, aptly reveng- |
ing herself for the hit at her d. |
minutive proportions. Tommy /
dropped them out Of the window"
Crash went a fancy bottle Of CO.
logne off the table as Tommy /
CROPPED for his garters. Bang. fell |
Mrs. Caryer's rosewood writing desk |
to the floor, bursting off the frail |
hinges and scattering pens, envel- |
opes and postage stamps far and
wide.
Mr.. Peter Carver was an aifec-
tionate father in a general way, but |
human nature could not have en-
dured this.
And he bundled the two little |
creatures miscellaneously into what
ever articles came uppermost, rend- |
ing off strings and fracturing but
tonholes in frantic desperation.
The fire obstinately declined to
burn, although Mr.. Carver opened !
the oven doors alternately and drew
out all the hampers he could spy.
"Confound the frew said Mr..
Carver, hopping his wet forehead !
with the stove cloth. ct won't 60.
I'll have a blaze Of kindling and try
the breakfast on that"
lie seized the ham and carved
several thick slices, which he trans
ferred deity to gridiron and then,