The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1915-03-18
and have no time to mend my

and have no time to mend my
%clothes?"
"Yes, there is a rip under your arm.
II you knew 1t this morning you said
nothing to me about it. If you didn't
know it when o went away then
neither of us is to blame. | think
you made the rip this morning when
you were lifting up the gate to see
why it didn't shut. Go on"
81 got on the car this morning to
find w%hitewash on my hat. Think Of
it-whitewash on Bowser's hat. All
the passengers were looking and smil-
ing and nudging each other, and when
/ took off my hat to brush 1t one big
bull necked loafer laughed out 'h8w.
haw, haw! ! felt like sinking through
the floor Of the car with shame"
$50 you had w%hitewash on your hat.
Well, let me tell you where you got it.
You stopped in to see the carpenter be-
fore you took the car, and you must
have run against something"
"Butted my head, did II" fairly
howled the martyr as he sawed the
air with his arms. woman. am I a
goat, that ! go around butting things!
I tell you that whitewash was on my
hat when | left this house, and If you
had been any sort of wife you would
have seen It. Doubtless you did see
1t, but desired to make me an object
Of ridicule. 1t is no wonder that I
am looked upon with pity"
And your further complaints, Mr..
Bowser?"
81 have millions of them. Look at
these Internal old trousers. will your"
81 see them. You had them made to
order three months ago and paid the
tailor 50. Have they shrunk or fad
ed?'
mo, but they bag at the knees, and
where can you find any creases? They
look like meal bags drawn over hitch
ing posts and yet you let me wear
them around and don't say a word. No
wonder the gamins cry out to EACH
other to get on to my legs!'
But do | wear your trousersT" pro-
tested Mrs. Bowser. "If they bag at
the knees and the creases have van
ished you should take them to the
tailor. l have never pressed a pair
yet, and I don't think l could make q
good job of it, but If you say so J
will try"
81 do not ask your assistance. / will
do 1t myself. Just get your nose into a
move and leave me to do your work
for you"
Efforts at Pressing a Failure.
There was no more to be said on
Mr.. Bowser's part. He went down
to the kitchen and put a fatiron on
the stove, and by the time he had
changed it was ready for him. He
had had no experience as a presser, |
but he went ahead with the greatest
confidence. After he had pulled and
hauled at the trousers for ten minutes
to get the ''baggy" out he laid them
on the table and applied the hot iron
to make the creases 1t so happened
at this moment that a fight between
cats began In the back yard. and he
left his iron to rush out and annihilate
the disturbers. He was looking on and
betting his coin on a one cared feline
when Mrs. Bowser called to him from
a window above:
81 smell burning cloth. You'd better
go in and see to your trousers"
1t was time. Indeed, it was past
time. The hot iron had scorched and
charred and shriveled until little was
left of those nine dollar trousers but
buttons and buckles. Slowly and care
fully Mr.. Bowser gathered up the re-
mains. Slowly and with dignity he
heaved the still hot iron out of the
back door and went upstairs. He
paused a moment in the doorway to
transfx Mrs. Bowser with a glare,
and then he held up the remnants and
hoarsely whispered:
"Woman. behold your work.
81 thought something was burning"
she replied, but what have l to do
with it? You let them burn while you
were looking at the cats"
mot q word more, woman-not a
word. This Is the last hair. l have
borne and borne. but l shall bear no
longer. Tomorrow we will consult our
respective lawyers and begin proceed
ings for divorce. Should any one ask
for me in the next hour tell them I am
in the library and canno be disturbed
on any account. Good night, madam;
good night to you"