The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1905-02-04

things and gave much time to dome8
tic details. 1t sometimes annoyed her
to see how Wyote wasted and mis-
managed.
Its a burning shame" she would
say to herself. What those unfortu-
nate boys spend to run that house
would keep two families"
She did not mean to be impertinent,
but she could not fail to see that gas
was burned until patience ceased to
he virtue and that good wholesome
food which could have been made into
delicious entrees went down to the jan
itor. 1t vexed her housewifely soul.
Then, too, she was a woman. still ap-
preciative, and the occupants OF the
bachelor fiat-well, she had seen men
she could admire less. She had just be-
gun to call them 'thOse poor boys"
when she was summoned one night
from the tiny drawing room to the al
cove of the dining room by her ex-
cited niece.
do look. auntie, He is showing his
japanese servant how you set the ia
BILE"
And. sure enough, at the opposite
window stood Dubois with Wyote. He
pointed first to his own table and then
to Mrs. Bronson's. And the next even
ing there were four silver candelabra
with silk shades and rosy candles on
their dinner table. The next lesson
across the areaway came in the morn
ing, and. after a heart to heart talk
with wyote, Dubois turned to the ex-
pectant trio and remarked: What's
the use Of paying a big price for a
mahogany table if you don't see il once
In awhile? II the mother of that pref
~ girl over there has a bare table for
breakfast bet it's the right thing"
Sut the next morning he was back
20 window. = puzzled expression
on his face. Clearly there was some
thing wrong with the mahogany table,
and there was no one to be seen at the
table across the areaway. Wyote stood
respectfully e2pectant at his elbow.
Neither of them dreamed that Mrs.
Bronson was sitting at one side of her
window and could hear what they said
and watch their reflection in the mir
ror in the sideboard.
Now, Wyote, ours doesn't look like
that. You rIust have forgotten some
thing What the devil is it?'
Its the dOiIies." fioated across the
areaway in a musical, half laughing
voice. Then appeared at the window
Mrs. Bronson, roguish, yet flushed at
her own boldness. 'Oh. l beg your
pardon! 1t was most impertinent OF
me. Jdt my niece and l have taken
such an interest in your bachelor
housekeeping. especially since you have
been kind enough to take my little din
ing room as your-your'-
AS our criterion! Exactly! 1t is such
a dear little room, don't you know.
hope you don't mind?"
Not at all" said Mrs. Bronson.
you see. you must not use candelabra
for breakfast Then get some plain
Irish linen for doilies and a center
piece to match"
ChNNA oldAAAf NdP&-
nese nodded his head and wisely van
ished.
Thanks awfuIIy," said Dubois. CROP
ing for some excuse 10 continue the
conversation. I'VE take such a fool
ish pride in our bungalow and wanted
things right
We'll you have them right" said
Mrs. Bronson, land I do wish you'd
tell me where you bought those dear
little brown casseroles."
That deft bit Of fattery completed
the conquest,
The little woman's all right" said
Dubois as he told the trio of his
mornings conversation. After the rest
had gone Marshall went out to the
kitchen.
.Myote.n be said, didn't you re-