Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1914-07-16

steps, hopping the perspiration from
his weak, good-natured face. That
last log of wood had been knotty and
obstinate, and he had earned rest
from his labors. Through the screen
door of the kitchen sounded the
twangy voices of the ladies sewing So
ciety assembled in noisy session.
Suddenly his own name shrilled on
his ears out of the discord
81 see ye got Joe Parsons splittin
up yer wood, Mis- Perry"
That was the voice of Sue Ransom,
the postmaster's wife.
"Yaas. feel sort o. sorry fur joe
WAL, don't. Joe's fool, or he'd
got onter AIMS game long ago. She's
jest plumb lazy, an that's all ats the
matter 'th her. She cd git up fast
enough eff she wanted ter. That
chump of Joe, he jest does her work
an his'n, an worships the groun' she
walks on!'
Bed she lies on d be nearer the
TRUTH" interposed a voice he did not
recognize.
During the laughter which followed
this witticism, Joe slipped off the
steps and again tackled his wood pile.
Thought was not his long suit, but to-
day he accomplished wonders along
the line suggested by the chance
words he had overheard. That eve
ming, as he slouched homeward, he
chuckled audibly to himself.
WAL, Ann, darlin', how ye ben ter
day-any better?" he asked, entering
the bedroom of the little three-room
cottage to which he had brought his
bride ten years ago.
"Jes, middlin', Joe-jes' middlin'."
Ann was a plump, good-looking
blonde, suggesting little of the invalid
as she lay propped up in bed with a
paper-covered novel lying on the
patchwork quilt which served as
counterpart. Joe, who had stopped
in the kitchen for an anticipatory
scrubbing, stopped over to kiss his
wife.
"Ye're jest as pooty as ever, Ann
he said adoringly, as he lifted her
long yellow braid and gazed at it with
wonder in his eyes. 81 worship the
ground we walk on-no, the bed ye
lie on d be nearer the truth"
Joe roared with laughter as if the
witticism were his own.
joe ye're so rough!" sighed Ann, |
looking longingly at her novel and
the decreasing light outside. "I'm
hungry. Dye think ye cd make cream
toast fur supper? Pears like it d
taste real good ternight."
Il guess so, darlin'. Let me see !
it's six years, amt it, sence ye fell on
the ice an hurt yer spine?"
Seven year come next March," she !
answered resignedly.
"Ain't@ ye no better, dearie? Don't |
the doctor think yell be gittin' up |
soon an goin' ter fairs an meetin's
an sewin' soci'ties?"
Some day, guess" She was i'm,
patient now, But not yit. My back
aches me so. Joe, Pm awful hun
gryl"
so ye be dearie; so ye be! III git |
supper as quick as ever | kin eff yen ,
jest give me one good kiss an hug
fust"
AIMS part in the embrace was pas
sive rather than reciprocal, but Joe
seemed satisfied as he trotted off TO
his culinary labors, leaving his inva-
lid wife absorbed in the love affairs
of Lady Wihelmina Geraldine Mont
gomery.
Joe's unwonted efforts along the
thinking line bore no fruit until mid
night was passed. Ann was sleeping
soundly by his side. Suddenly she
grew dreamily conscious that the bed
was no longer a comfortable retreat
from the cares and worries of life;
and in another minute she was wide
awake.
"Massy sake, Joe, what's the mat,
ter? Is't an earthquake?"
But Joe made no answer except to
roll over and over and groan unintel-
ligibly.
Joey, joey" she begged, "fur the
lands sake, tell me what's the mat
teri"
Joe, who had never had an hours
ILLNESS in his life, chuckled and
groaned and groaned and chuckled,
thrashing about like whale in the
darkness. 1t was fully seven years
since she had called him joey, and he
felt drunk with unaccustomed power.
At last, from the upheaval of her
quiet, invalid world, she distinguished
these ejaculations:
Cit me somethin' ter stop this
pain! I'm goin' ter die! Pm goin'
ter die!"
"oh, don't die! Don't die, Joey!"
she walled. "Darlin, darlin', don't
die! oh, tell me what ter dol"
whisky n hot water!" he
groaned. "Whiskey n hot water!
Quick! Quick Oh, my head, my
head!"
AS he thrashed near the middle of
the bed, she was pitched dangerously
near the edge-she who had hardly
put foot on the floor for six years!
"Oh, / can't! l can't walk" she
walled. "Oh, my back, Joey! Ny
back!" 90