The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1911-04-28
SHE MEANT
WELL

you, Tommy" said the three-months
bride to her husband one morning at
breakfast.
Something to eat?" asked Tom.
passing by the plate of forlorn-looking
biscuits and helping himself to a
piece of toast.
"Piggy-wig!" responded the three
months bride, CONTEMPORARY. Yes.
1t is something to eat, but you're not
going to get it until Sunday morning.
It's waf1es." The three months
bride folded her small hands in her
lap and beamed proudly upon her re-
cent acquisition in the matrimonial
line.
"Whew!" whistled Tom, who was al
ways properly appreciative. did you
ever made any, Pudge?'
NO." said the three months bride.
"But l have a perfectly lovely set OF
waffle irons that one Of the girls gave
me at my kitchen shower, and I'm
just crazy to use them"
The young wife rose half an hour
earlier than usual the next Sunday
morning. She spread out the cook
book on the table.
"Two eggs,'" she chanted to her
self. 1T doesn't say whether to beat
them separately or not, but I want
these to be the finest wafaes that ever
were, SO I'll beat them separately"
She broke the eggs into two dishes,
humming a little song as she did so.
Then she leaned again over her Gull
nary guide, philosopher and friend.
Zone cup Of sour milk" she read.
"Now, there's your sour milk. Half
a t%easpoonful of salt There's your
salt. Flour to make a good batter
Oh, dear, I do hate recipes that don't
tell exactly how much to put in. Half
Soda I'm always afraid
Ito use soda, so I'll just use baking pow
der instead, for it's so much safer. 1t
doesn't say which thing to put in first,
$50 I'll just put them all in at once.
Have the waffle irons sizzling hot as
soon as your batter is ready Why,
the batter's all ready and l haven't
begun to heat the irons"
She hustled around and presently
an odor of ~well.cooked ironware began
to fill the room. The young wife
dampened. a finger and applied 1t
daintily to the outside of the waffle
iron.
"Psst!!" the waffle iron remarked.
II guess you're hot enough" said
the young wife, happily. "This batter
looks rather queer and bubbly, but l
suppose It's all right. Now. here
goes"
She carefully opened the irons and
deposited a spoonful of batter in
each receptacle. Then she closed them
and waited a few minutes. An odor
of neatly browning waf1es and very
smelly waffle irons rose to her nostrils
and gradually filled the room. A wor.
ried al began to show on her
smooth forehead.
She took a hasty peep at the cook
book, but it was unrelentingly silent
on the subject. An odor of burning
drew her back to the stove. She took
hold of the handle of the iron on the
northeast corner and tried gently to
raise 1t. It refused to move. Then
she gave it a little jerk. Still there
was no response. She gave it a still
more decided jerk and the iron open
ed with a suddenness that a be as
cribed only to the total depravity of
.inanimate things.
It opened its jaws with a vicious
pop and then shut them again with
a clap that made the young wife
dance away from the stove and cover
both eyes with her hands under the
impression that they were full of red
hot batter. In the rebound she came
up against the pan Of batter and it
fell to the floor. with a crash. By this
time the room was filled with the
pungent smell of. burning wafles.
With the one idea in her mind of
avoiding the catastrophe of having
her living room curtains permeated
with the awful odor, the young wife
seized the hot iron with her bare
hand. .
At this crucial moment the little
demons that preside over such annoy
ing affairs moved Tom, the large and
innocent, to open the door. Ignorant
that the situation was explosive in q
high degree. he called. jovially:
Breakfast ready, Pudge?..
Driven to frenzy by the sight Of the
Immaculate and .self-satisfied looking
masculine thing, the young wife gave
a wild, unhuman below. Then she
deliberately kicked the offending waf-
fe iron to the other side Of the room.
In terrible crises. we sometimes
have almost preternatural intuitions.
Toms behavior upon this occasion
was almost uncanny in its intelligence.
He spoke no word, he made no offer
of resistance. He beat a hasty re-
treat, while the once happy bride
flung furious words after him. .
II hate you," she cried. "and 1 hate
and loathe being married. I despise
you and everything in this house and
L wish / had died before l saw you!"
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