Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-06-14
THE EVENING STORY.
New Wives and Old.
Copyright, 1918. BY ". werner.)

Copyright. 1913. by ". Werner.)
| The kitchen door opened and John
Craig entered. He smiled broadly. Upon
| the kitchen table was such an array as
| would make any hungry mans eyes
| brighten.
Mahala came out of the dining room,
where she had been setting the table.
She was plump, pink checked. and light
haired. Her frock was crisp and her
apron white. and John, turning from the
food to her. thought her well worth eem-
| ing home to.
She ran to him and kissed him. Hold
| ing her close in his big arms John swung
| her round and pointed toward the laden
| table by the looks of that I guess
you've had a busy morning.
| Mahala laughed and flushed. Well. l
| have had. But wash up and come to din
ner. dear.
John obeyed with alacrity. We'll by
George he said. I'm sorry for any fell
| low that hasn't this to come to when he s
| played out and hungry
| He lifted the carving knife and fork
| and prepared to carve the meat. Gee
| whiz" he exclaimed. as he sawed labor
| iously. but that's tough. That butcher
have to get after him and give him
| blowing up. Never mind, dear We've
plenty else It's getting too hot for much
| meat anyway. By the way, Mahaia
these raised biscuits are the finest / ever
ate. They beat mothers all hollow
| Mahaia smiled family at the Would-be
| joke 1t was enough to bring tears to
| her eyes to see the way John eschewed
! the meat. the sodden potatoes and the
/ muddy coffee. The biscuits. however; the
pies. and the doughnuts made up for
| whatever else the meal lacked, and John
| went back full and content to his after
| Moons work.
| After he had gone Mahala shed some
/ real tears. Il Ca-can't cook she. sobbed
ave tried. and tried, and I ca-ant."
For heavens sake, Mahala Craig. are
| you crying The woman who had en-
| tered through the back door spoke so
| little shrek. There. l didn't mean to
scare you went on Mrs. Clark. There S
your fruit loaf. l guess you'll find it
eatable.
Its beautiful said Mahala. Every
thing you brought me was beautiful, Mrs.
Clark. You're splendid cook. | never
shall be-.
wait till you're married eighteen years
as I have. you'll cook well enough then
| to please anybody.
fully. DO YOU see that platter of meat?
! 1t was good meat, too, but I spoiled it in
! the cooking. It's SO tough that We
| couldn't eat particle of it. John thought
II was t'ie butcher S 1ault. put IL was
| mine-mine.
so long as John don't know that
where's the harm soothed Mrs. Clark.
You just keep on trying. Mahala. and
| don't be afraid to come to me when you
get stuck. I'll help you out You better
| put that meat through the chopper and
make hash for supper. l always put a
| bit of onion In my hash. 1t makes it SO
| tasty. to my mind Fry it good and
brown and John will never remember his
| dinner
| But Mahala was very uncomfortable.
When she married John she could not, as
| she said boil water without burning
it She had stepped out from behind
her desk a rural teacher into wifehood.
She had tried to tell John that she lacked
in housewifely lore. but John had laughed
down her tinid confession. His mother
had been born cook and he had an idea
that the art of bread making came natu-
rally to woman. Besides there was al
ways recipe one could follow. He had
bought "a huge cook book for Mahala, be-
slowing it upon her with an air which
said Enthusiastically: There's your know
| ledge; use it 1t was then Mrs. Clark
made her offer. She would do the bak-