The Topeka state journal., 1913-08-19
The PARSONS REMEDY.
(By NJ. Quad.)

| 1t was love that brought about the
| marriage of Abraham Scott, a young
farmer, with Tilda Hastings, and for
| the first year they were very happy.
Then it happened that Tilda's mother
passed week with them, and when
| ready to go home she said:
''Tilda, I've been watching things
| since I've been here
| why, what is there to watch?' she
| asked.
"Henry's tyranny
| His what?'
perfectly shameful. It's been all l
could do to keep from busting right
out at him.
| why Mother Hastings!"
Its a fact If your father treated
me that way one of us would leave the
house in short Orderi
But 1 can't understand you at all.
| Just what has Henry done?"
Hes treated you like a child or
slave. 1 saw it the first day 1 was
here, and it amazed me that you didn't
show your Spunk. He's grinding you
under his iron heel and you don't seem
to realize it. Girl, you are laying up a
heap of sorrow for yourself
why, mother, how strange you
talk!' said the wife. Tell me one
thing Henry has done that wasn't
right
I'm going to tell you of more than
one, Tilda, I've been setting them down
on paper so as to be sure and here
they are:
THE first day 1 was here he walks
in and orders you to melt some NUT
ton tallow for sore-back cow
why, he didn't order. He asked me
to-"
Don't try to excuse him. There was
commanding tone in his voice. The
second day he comes stomping in like
duke and calls out:
Hey. Tilda, I'm going to town. and
don't you forget to feed the hogs at
noon."
But 1 don't see anything wrong
about that" was protested. He was
going after nails
well, I'd just like your father to
roar out at me like that just once!
I'd tell him to go to Texas quicker'n
wink On the third day your Henry
hollered at you from the barnyard and
wanted to know if the sheep hears
were in the Kitchen
But he wanted them mother
Il 'spose he did, but he spoke like
old Nero. If your father had called to
me like that I'd have gone down there
with a club. On the fourth day, as we
was eating supper at o'clock. the
clock stopped. You must remember
what Henry said?''
He SAID it had stopped"
Yes, but how did he say it? He
looked right across the table at you
and there was pounded glass in his ;
tones as he said:
'Tilda, you forgot to wind up the !
clock last night.
But l did forget, MOTHER I,
And what if you did? In the first
place, it's a mean husband that expects
his wife to wind the clock, and in the .
next if your father had spoken that |
way to me I'd have got up and flung
the clock at his head On the fifth .
your nice and sweet and gentle Henry
tunbIed into the we'll, and after being
down there an hour he manages to
get out and comes into the house to
shout at you:
'''Tilda, where in the devil are your
ears? I've been hollerirg my lungs
out down the we'll this last hour
But you can't blame him for being
provoked" replied the wife.
"Oh, you can't, Ell? You must be
listening every minute for fear he'll
tumb BILE into the we'll or fly up a tree.
O-h-h, didn't wish for about q min
ute that he was your father, and that
had an axe handle ready"
We'll, what else has Henry said or
done?"
fOn the sixth day which was yes
terday, as he was milking the cows in
the morning. one of them kicked him.
We were both out there looking at the
calves. and we heard what he said and
saw what he did. When he had
scram bled up he hit the poor COW with
the milk-stool, and he glared at you
as he did it. Then he said:
You broken-backed, knock-kneed,l
if you ever do that again I'll have your
Iife!'
But no man has patience with a