The Lexington dispatch. [volume] (Lexington, South Carolina) 1870-1917, 1906-07-04


he was beaten. Then he flushed up and
exclaimed:
Yes, but why in thunder didn't You
discover it this morning? l heard some
fellers guying me Oh the street at noon
and I'll bet it was about that dangling
susDender. Mrs. Bowser'-
What else has haDpened?' she inter
rupted.
Take a look at this necktic, will
YOU? Is it necktie or a piece Of tarred
roper?
There you are again. You couldn't
be satisfied to drag out an old collar,
but you must get necktie to match.
What do you do such things for?'
Don't lay it on to me, and don't
think to bluff mer' he sternly ex-
claimed. woman, there is such a
thing as divorce, thank heaven
But if you'd apply for one it would
turn out to be a mortgage on the house.
Now, then, what else?"
''My socksv' hoarsely whispered Mr..
Bowser as he pointed at his feet.
What about them?"
His Eyesight Poor.
-"Full of holes, crevices, chasms, ra-
vines. They have hurt my feet all day.
Look at them, guilty woman, and let
the blush of shame mantle your cheek!'
He sat down and took off his shoes.
There were holes in the toes and heels
of his socks. They were not holes
which yearling calf could have passed
through, but yet they were Of respec-
table size and only waiting for warm
showers to grow larger. Mr.. Bowser
looked at Mrs. Bowser with accusing
looks, and she ran upstairs and return
ed after moment with eight pairs of
socks as fresh as new pins.
''They were right there in front OF
your nose, but you scrabbled around
and got that pair somewhere" she
said. Are the complaints ended?'
II left my eyeglasses on the table
this morning. You knew l did. The
cook knew did. The blamed old yal-
ler cat knew I did, and yet the whole
caboodle of you saw me start out with
out them and never said a word. l
had to go out and buy a pair before I
could do any work. BY John, but
when think Of these things
Mrs. Bowser passed down the hall to
where his spring overcoat was hang
ing on the rack and, after feeling in
the pockets, came back with the lost
glasses in her hand and observed:
you'll put them in the letter box
some day il you don't look out. What
else?'
Mr.. Eowser stood back and fixed her
with his eye for time and then point
ed down to his shoes and tensely de-
manded:
what do you call these?'
''Shoes, she replied-''shoes with holes
in the toes and the heels all run over.
You put them on last evening when
you were cleaning up the back yard,
and this morning you forgot to change
to the Others. It was my fault. l
ought to so around looking at your
feet. Will you please forgive me? The
cook missed . fork and napkin after
you left the table this morning. VIII
you look through Your pockets for
them? was going to give cook an old
corset today, but / couldn't find it.
Have you got it on? One of my night
dresses is strangely missing. Can you
account for it? My belt with the
rhinestone buckle can't be found. I
don't think you could buckle it around
you, but you may be using it for a
stocking supporter. My last new shirt
waist
No One Loved Him.
Mr.. Bo,l;er turned on his heel and
walked down the hall to his overcoat
and hat and then left the house. That
house was no place for martyr Mrs.
Bowser was no wife for martyr. No
one loved him; no one sympathized
with him. He instinctively turned his
face toward the river, but he had hard
ly cleared the gate when the weather
got her sprinkling pot to work, and
down came a shower that drove him
under the nearest shade tee. He was
q martyr some more
He stood there with his back bumped
up and the water running down his
spine, and Mrs. Bowser never came to
tho door to ca11 him in and bap his
pardon. Indeed, as the rain came down
harder and a policeman across the
street yelled to him to move on he
heard the guilty woman singing:
ct would not live alway;
I ask not to stay