The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1912-05-16
a..
Social Career

Mrs. Trumbull's social aspirations
were, as a rule, the source of much
flippant joy to. her husband. 1t was
only when Trumbull himself was
called upon to shine at dinner parties
or disport in drawing rooms that he
ceased to consider in the light Of
joke his wife's desire to set her small
feet firmly upon the next higher rung
of the ladder.
The cream Of the joke looked to him
particularly pale and blue the evening
she announced triumphantly that Mrs.
Fulton, the one wealthy woman OF
their acquaintance, had invited the
Trumbulls to sit in her box at the
opera the following Thursday evening.
I'm perfectly willing for you to
spend your nights and Sundays pursu-
ing the aristocracy to it's lair" pro-
tested Trumbull, "but you know I'm
not a parlor pet. I'm all right as
means of support, but I'm sure to
make a donkey of myself if try to do
the society act. Can't you 60 alone"
Mrs. Trumbull set her lips. "That
would be impossible" she said. But,
of course, if you don't want to go
can tell Mrs. Fulton that you have a
business engagement that will prevent
our going"
It was not until her lips began to
oniyer that Trumbull realized how
Ia G al
to go.
The night of the theater party the
weather turned cold. Trumbull, in
blissful forgetfulness of the festiv1ty,
:entered the house in a whirl of snow
and icy wind.
"Is that you, dear?' cried Mrs.
Trumbull from upstairs, where she
was futtering about getting Trum-
bulls evening regalia ready for him
to put on.
Yep" responded Trumbull, follow
ing the sound of her voice up the
stairs.
His face fell when he saw the
clothes lying on the bed. "Oh!" he
calculated in a voice from which all
Joy had fed. I'D forgotten this was
the evening of the blowout" He shiv'
cred audibly. Its an awful night"
Mrs. Trumbull tripped over to the
dresser and began a search for his
tie. Il ordered a taxi" she said,
clleerily. ITS to be here promptly
at a quarter to eight"
In the taxicab Mrs. Trumbull
looked at her husband in undisguised
satisfaction.
You'll be the best looking man
there" she purred. Il don't care it
Mr.. Fulton's ancestors did come over
with the pilgrim fathers and if they
do have a butler and five maids and
a governess, he's nothing but little,
dried-up shrimp. Anybody seeing you
two together won't hesitate minute
about selecting you as the one with
the money"
The spontaneity of this wifely trib-
ute pleased Trumbull. He even grew
less sleepy under the enlivening infu-
ence of her honeyed words. How
ever, this didn't prevent his having a
feeting wish as he seated himself in
the chair just behind his hostess that
he had had another strong cup Of cof-
fee. or course he wasn't really
sleepy, but a cold wind always gave
him a queer feeling.
Mrs. Trumbull. glancing at his big,
well-groomed figure and his clever,
good-natured face, and now and then
catching the low, well-bred tones Of
his voice, felt that it would take very
little more to make her sinfully proud
of him. Every Interested glance cast
up from the seats below them sent a
separate thrill of delight through her.
She was fairly radiant.
When the first act was about half
over her satisfaction was dispelled by
an all too familiar sound. She cast a
terrified glance toward the rear Of the
box. What she saw caused her to start
wildly to her feet. Too late!
Trumbull's head had fallen to one
side, his eyes were closed, his mouth
was open. A sound closely resembling
the distant rumbling Of a railroad
train came from his parted lips. From
a rumble it quickly grew into a very
good imitation of an automobile horn.
Higher and higher it rose, until the
startling crescendo broke in fierce,
choking leviathan Of a snore!
The host jumped to his feet with
the obvious intention of rendering
first aid to the injured. The hostess
gave a sharp, quite involuntary shrek
Mrs. Trumbull stonily fixed her unsee'
ing eyes upon the glittering stage
Trumbull, awakened by the vocifera'
ton, but unconscious Of the cause OF
his awakening and considerably re-
freshed by his little nap, sat looking
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