The Birmingham age-herald., 1915-09-05
Mrs Summer Widow Is Coming Back and "Mr Su

him to gird his wilowy POO pounds with kitchen apron and wade into the melee that mother" should allow it-"mother' who weighs all of 112 net. when she has been eating well! It is dreadful indeed! The day that the warning yodel cries out from the silent sky the summer widower becomes restless.
 He has a sort of standardization that things appear not orderly or in place at the old homestead.
 While of course he can never find any of his things anyway Somebody Is al- ways misplacing his garments and be- longings), he imagines that there is more confusion than customariy exists.
 He has watered the canary bird and fed seed to the ferns and hung up the ice card-in fact, he has shamelessy left it hanging by the neck until dead-to save trouble-and he has no time for dusting and sweeping
 To clean house is no joy; it is disturbing to a high tensioned, emotional tempera- ment but still the task must be achieved. During his last few meals downtown at the clubs and cafes it is plain MT. Sum mer Widower' is not happy; he fusses with the walters mods coldly to his best friends reads the papers and grumbles that there is nothing in them; smokes his favorite cigar and declares it tasteless and colorless, and decides to change the brand. Then he gets on a street car, sulks and signs and dropping his head so far down between his shoulders that his hat rests unsteadily on his coat collar, he looks the very picture of despair. You know the kind of down-in-the-mouth at titude; sort of like turtles affect, only a turtle doesn't wear a hat, so his head disappears altogether). Iris a wonder our summer widower didn't lost his, but trust the willy gentleman for that; with mas sive concrete foundation, his masculine cranium is well anchored
 When he gets home. oh the forlorn look of the house. It looks like orphan waiting for some charitable society to bring it new clothes-a wash rag and some soap! Strange. isn't it, how four short weeks can change the face and figure of mere domicle? Neglected, it ages rapidly.
 MT. Summer Widower" begins to won-
 
 cover up the ragged spots in the rugs and place the showiest books in the front of the book shelves, while mere man exposes to the light every slight defect connected with the rugs. the books and the furniture.
 Oh. the cunning things that women are. Oh. the clumsy animals men are and yet We like them and marry them and must needs tolerate them, but, thank Heay en, they are not as clever as We are, else we would be shamed with know ing nothing whatsoever and wishing we could be born again and be males.
 Nobody need be told that house doesn't know when its mistress is away. It cries out for her; every window shade Is up, letting the glare of the day show all the dust on the window sills: the bath towels are never the rack; the elec- tric lights shine dim through dust cov- cred glass; the canary feels lonesome and shakes off his yellow coat and filings it in big puff on the foor if he's going to moult he says to himself he might as well moult now as any other time. while "she" is away.
 But walt, she is coming back!
 Out with the floor mop Out with tile securing apparatus. There shall be renovations and upheavals and a moving about and d scattering of such things as should be scattered, and then swept into the dust bin of eternity. The summer widower" prepares to prepare his preparations.
 His first job is to remove some 'steen hundred and umpty ump newspapers. including six Sunday editions for each Sunday 'she" has been away. (Surpris- Ing how newspapers do accumulate if you let them. With one morning paper and two afternoon papers and six New York Sunday papers each Sunday not to mention all those he brings home in his coat pockets every evening and