The Birmingham age-herald., 1915-08-15

She should have been driving Mrs. W1fey indignantly retorts Perhaps she Is married to one of those no-'count cusses thai can't give her an auto, likewise the hire of a taxi Now, wouldn't that make you tired? You see a creature like that even tries to bluff his own wife the one person on earth who knows him like she knows daylight and her own conscience"
 T have one of the lady-like kind on my list" observed Mrs litter quietly, who is the dearest little bit of femininity that ever sweetened her tea. We had him was willing to pass away when he heard Geraldine Farrar sing, and that he always thought chocolate eclaires a lovely dish Lovely is no man-sized word, now, Is it2 That belongs strictly to a female vo- cabulary, and then just think everything with him was 'perf-kly beautiful and perf-kly stunning Whenever I hear a man go through that sort of sissy lingo I want to slap somebody on the back right hard and say: By jove,' and re- spectfully remove my false hair. l don't want to be anything like what he appears to be. I prefer a considerable distance betweeen us. I don't care how far re- moved he is from me. l could easily get along without his society and never think of missing it."
 And, of course" Mrs Pumpkins added, that kind are always an undisputed au- thority on the latest capers in fashionable attire"
 ITO be sure" said Mrs. litter. that the real speciality. He can describe a lady's gown better than any fashion magazine. Nobody can really understand him except perhaps a dressmaker who knows the technical terms. Where he picks 1t up, I cant for the life of me imagine. He can give an explanatory lecture on kimono sleeves and tunics that would put you to sleep, it sounds so much like poetry. Besides him M. Poiret is in the B c class of fashions.
 ''I wonder whatever makes them that way" unused Mrs. Pumpkins. Tt seems a shame to let a man spoil like that It's like letting good food go to waste, not turning out the electric lights when you don't need them. Do you sup pose they merely trying to be original and charming?"
 Possibly; some peoples lack of charm is all the charm they have,' replied Mrs. litter.
 You talk like something that should be played and sung" Mrs. Pumpkins sug gested facetiously. "I don't mind when a man is not charming-so precious few of them are-but T simply cannot bear them when they pucl<er up their pretty red lips and bout or when they say they love green aigrettes on blue hats, and that they think the new chiffon brocades are perfectly adorable. A man like that can't get my company long. The men don't want him around any more than the women either. You always think of chap like that polishing his finger nails and waving his hair, or having on his dressing table a pint bottle of Mary Garden perfume"
 "I often think our dear old hubbys are not so dreadful after all'' Mrs. Pumpkins suggested We know at least that they are manly because they possess so many manly qualities, of mean-ness. I presume only a real man brings dirt in on his shoes, and doesn't half wash his face, but wipes most of the dirt on the towel And I presume only a real manly hubby throws the papers on the floor all over the house and scatters his cigar ashes broadcast all over the domestic scenery. Of the two evils, I choose the spoiled, manly husband every time in preference to the daintily perfumed little make-be- lieve that are neither fish, flesh nor fowl, man or woman"
 "Selah," added Mrs. litter sincerely.
 "I often nearly throw a fit over the way friend husband behaves" Mrs. Pumpkins went on to say, yet when you come to think of it. he isn't as bad, no not by jugful, as he might be. For in stance when I appear in the radiant beauty of new gown, even though it may be built out of a 50-cent remnant and buckle and three hooks and eyes, I expect him to do a little polite rav ing and to throw himself into an appre- ciative spasm of rapture"
 Docs he?" eagerly inquired Mrs litter.
 'He does-not," promptly answered Mrs. Pumpkins. 1T twirl about on one heel, making a cunning little moue at him, and twist and porouette and then await the applause"
 And it doesn't come?" asks the other curiously
 "It does-not." is the prompt rejoin- der. He keeps quietly reading on what ever he happens to be reading. Reluc- tantly after repeated efforts on my part 10 attract his attention he gives me a hurried glance. After that a feeble lit tie grunt is audible. Encouraged I ask: DO you like it, dear" For answer comes another little grunt-a sort of rumble fainter than the first, after which he murmurs a humble which if pieced to gether like jig-saw puzzle might sound like Very nice or anything else you chose to make 1t out. Now as I said, while all this may not be very complimentary and it is only ac- complished and achieved by hard work on my part, yet l suppose it is the manh husbands way of acting. It goes along nicely with the way be does everything else. But he is better than the daffodil type at least. Would pre- fer him making mo stand out in the broad open daylight and examine whether the drapery was just exactly even both sides? Suppose he were to give me one of those slanting, cut on the bias looks with one eye squinted and say: T believe that gown needs a bit of gold lace on the tunic and a tiny gold tassel depending from the left shoulder Fancy it! Imagine it if you can. What if he were to look at me coldly and critically and say: No; taupe is not your color my dear; you should wear purple; taupe is too cold and metallic for your complexion and