The Caldwell watchman. (Columbia, La.) 1885-1946, 1915-07-23

Then why the
devil do you put things so can't see
the clock?" settling down for another
five minutes. Hope you had enough
air last night-this rooms cold as
Greenland"
Helen, who always got up and closed
the windows, now with shivering re.
luctance slid out of bed. In her haste
a fluttering curtain caught in the sash,
and the icy wind blew mercilessly
through her thin nightgown as she
tried to free it. Then she stopped to
turn on the heat, and then, chilled
through, crept back into bed.
mo, you DON'T" growled Warren.
Warm up on your own side"
A sound of water gurgling in the
radiator, then loud vicious thump.
More gurgling, and more thumps.
You didn't turn it on full-that's
what makes that blasted noise!"
81 turned it on as far as it would
co. dreading to get up again.
In the gray light of the winter morn.
ing, the room was dim and cherries.
Helen's head ached DULY, and a feel
ing Of utter detection made her long to
sink back into the oblivion of sleep.
The dining room clock struck the
half-hour.
II tell you, we've got to get to bed
earlier" with a vicious jerk Warren
threw back the bedclothes. Tonight
I'm going to turn in right after din.
ner."
This was one of Warren's stock
resolutions. Yet even if they spent
the evening at home he would always
read until twelve.
"Oh, be careful of that broken
glass; warned Helen, as he lurched
out Of bed.
Thrusting his feet into his slippers,
he slammed into the bathroom.
Helen still lay huddled in bed.
Getting up was always hard, but get
ting up this dark, frosty morning was
excruciating. Her whole body shrank
from leaving the sheltering warmth
Of the bedclothes. AS rule she got
up when Warren did, but sometimes
she allowed herself the few extra mo.
ments until he stropped his razor.
That was her ultimatum.
Zip-smish! The first stroke on the
razor strop! With heroic effect
Helen forced herself out of bed and
ran into her room.
For a moment she crouched over
the radiator. Then, turning on the
light by her dresser. with numb fin.
gers she thrust up her hair. BY this
time Warren was out of the bath.
room.
AS Helen went in the drenched
shower-sheet was an accusing re-
minder. Warren's cold morning shower
had always seemed a form of torture
until she read of the "youth-preserv.
ing virtues of the cold spray, and re.
solved to form the habit. For three
mornings she had forced herself under
the icy stream; then her courage had
failed.
Come here and look at this shirt!''
called Warren angrily.
I'm just minute" gulping down a
glass of water, an internal morning
bath that Helen never omitted.
You're to send nothing more to
that laundry-understan throwing
down his brushes, his hair sleek from,
the vigorous grooming.
Helen examined the torn neckband
of the shirt on the bed.
Il can mend that, dear, so it'll not
show"
Eyes; you fixed that plated one,
and my neck's raw yet. Call up that
other laundry-the one We had last
year"
with conciliatory "All right,
dear" Helen hurried back to her room.
She finished dressing, then threw
up the window, leaned out, and drew
In ten long, deep breaths of the frosty
air-another morning health,giving
habit that Helen never neglected
When she came into the dining
room, Warren was at the table glanc-
ing over the war news. The deep,
frowning lines between his eyes were
the danger signals of fault-fnding
and querulous mood.
The next half hour, until he left
for the office, Helen knew would be a
trying one. She must say nothing to
irritate him, or he would 90 off in a
temper that she would worry over for
the rest Of the day.
"See here, il 1t takes you so infer
nally long-why don't you get up in
timer"
I'm going to, dear. Hereafter, I'm