The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1917-12-04
MARRIED LIFE.
(By Mabel Herbert Urner.)
IN Which Helen Failed to Send War
- L. M

(by Mabel Herbert Ofner.)
In Which Helen Failed to Send War.
ner's Clothes to the Tailor.
Warrent took from their hanger a
pair of gray trousers and frowned at
them disapprovingly.
"Didn't / tell YOU to send these to
the tailor!"
why, I thought you said he'd call
for them,' answered Helen, who was
putting the collar bones in a freshly
Numbered waist.
Il said nothing of the kind. dis
tinctly told You yesterday morning to
send these trousers and that heavy
overcoat to be pressed
Eyes, know you wanted them
pressed, but I thought you were to
stop on your way and send the man
after them"
well, he didn't come, did he? And
they were hanging there all day.
Couldn't you see them? And if you
knew I wanted them pressed why
didn't you send them to HING"
Mother came yesterday, and
ooh, you always have some ex-
cuse. Now see if you can remember
to send these things to the tailor to-
DAY.. Do you think you can do that?
(Sarcastically.) Will that tax your
memory too much ?"
Helen flushed. II have no one to
send but Della and she doesn't like
to leave her work in the morning.
You have to pass the place as you
go to the subway. Couldn't you stop
and send the man after them"
"Oh, That's 1t, Eh?" He Asked.
ooh, that's it's it? You don't
want to send Della. Then why didn't
you say so in the beginning, without
lying about it and saying you mis-
UNDERSTOOD"
81 didn't lie, Warren; that would
be rather sma1l thing to lie about,
wouldn't it?"
"Well, NOW I want these trousers
sent to the tailor. Do you hear? If
Della won't take them, send for a
messenger boy. When ! start down
to stop at any little tailor's. Any
other woman but you would manage
to get her husbands clothes pressed
without all this fuss. Now, do you
think you can manage to call a mes
senger boy, or is that asking too
much 2"
"Oh, Warren, how can you be so
unjust. You know I'll not call mes
senger boy. I'll take them myself. /
wouldn't have said anything about
it, but | thought as the place was
right on your way you wouldnr mind
stopping"
''Well, l would. I'm not an errand
boy, and when l start out have 9TH
err things to think about. If you'd
only do what I tell you without so
many Internal excuses"-
Warren, don't! Mother will hear
you-she's just in the next ROOM"
well, what of it,"
ooh, don't want her to knoww
Know WHAT"
Helen's only answer was a gesture
of despair.
Worren Grows Sarcastic.
"You mean you don't want her to
know that we're not divinely happy"
with disagreeable laugh. "WeH, you
don't think she can stay here very
long without finding that out, do
you?"
mo, / suppose not" YEARLY.
whats the matter with you, any
way? You've been going around here
with the most woe-begone expression.
Anyone would think I'd been beat
ing you. l tell you I'm blamed tired
of our aggrieved and injured airs. l
suppose you have made me out a
brute to your mother already"
Warren, you know | have not dis
cussed you or our affairs with moth
er. Above everything else l don't
want her to know"
"KNOW WHAT? You're eternally
saying that. After all, what is there
to know"
"Oh, Warren, don't-don't let's talk
about it! 1t doesn't help matters.
Let's not quarrel all the time"
"Well, who's doing the quarreling?
Who started it? Didn't you?"
Perhaps / did," more YEARLY.
oil admit anything for the sake of
peace"
ooh, you WILL-will you? Well,
that's worth knowing. When you
find you are beaten in an argument
then you say you'll admit anything
for the sake of peace. By George,
that's like you"
Here Helen, who had finished put
ting in the collar bones and had slip
ped on the waist, hurried into the
next room, where her mother was
dressing the baby.
"Mother, will you button me up?
Warren is shaving, and he doesn't
like so many buttons anyway" with
a laugh, which she tried to make
careless.
Had her mother heard?
Her mother drew her to the light,
saing naturally, you'll have to turn
around; l can't see back here"
There was nothing in her voice or
manner to imply that she had heard.