The Washington herald., 1920-06-19

THE May moon shoue bright
upon the private boarding
house Of Mrs. Murphy. By
reference to the almanac a large
amount of territory will be dis
covered upon which its rays fell.
Spring was in its heyday, with
hay fever soon to follow. The
. parks were green with new leaves
and buyers for the Western and
Southern trade. Flowers and
summer resort agents were blow
ing; the air and answers to Law
son were growing milder; hand
organs, fountains, and pinochle
were playing everywhere.
q The windows of Mrs. Murphy's
boarding house were open. A
group of boarders was seated
on the high stoop upon round,
fiat mats like German pancakes.
In one of the second-fioor win
dows Mrs. McCaskey awaited her
husband. Supper was cooling on
the table. Its heat went into
Mrs. McCaskey.
At Q Mr.. McCaskey came. He
carried his coat on his arm and
his pipe in his teeth; and he
apologized for disturbing the
boarders on the step as he select
ed spots of stone between them
on which to set his size 9, width
DIS.
AS he opened the door Of his
room he received a surprise. In
stead OF the usual stove-lid or
potato masher for him to dodge,
came only words.
Mr.. McCaskey reckoned that
the benign May moon had soft
ened the breast of his spouse.
Il heard ye," came the oral
substitutes for kitchenware "Ye
can apologize to riff-raff of the
streets for settin' yer unhandy
feet on the tails of their frocks.
but ye'd walk on the neck of yer
wife the length Of a clothes-line
without so much as a Kiss me
. fut,' and I'm sure it's that long
from rubberin' out the windy for
We and the victuals cold such as
there's money to buy after drink
In up yer wages at Galleghers
every Saturday evening, and the
gasman here twice today for his"
WomanI" said Mr.. McCaskey.
dashing his coat and hat upon a
chair, the noise of ye is an in
suit to me appetite. When ye
run down politeness ye take the
mortar from between the bricks
OF the foundations of society.
Tfs no more than exercisin' the
acrimony of gentleman when
ye ask the dissent of ladies
blockin' the way for steppin' be-
tween them. Will We bring the
pigs face of ye out OF the windy
and see to the food?"
Mrs. McCaskey arose heavily
and went to the stove. There
was something In her manner
that warned Mr.. McCaskey. When
the corners of her mouth went
down suddenly like a barometer
1t usually foretold a fall of tin
ware and crockery.
Pigs face. is it?" said Mrs.
McCaskey, and hurled a stewpan
full Of bacon and turnips at her
lord.
Mr.. McCaskey was no novice
at repartee. He knew what
should follow the entree. On the
table was roast sirloin of pork,
VIII f1e
retorted with this, and drew the
appropriate return of a bread
pudding in an earthen dish. A
hunk of Swiss cheese accurately
thrown by her husband struck
Mrs. McCaskey below one eye.
When she replied with a we'll
aimed coffee pot full of a hot.
black, semi-fragrant liquid the
battle. according to courses.
should have ended.
But Mr.. McCaskey was no So
cent table d'hoter. Let cheap Bo-
hcmians consider coffee the end. IL
they would Let them make that
faux pas. He was foxier still.
FinSer-bowls were not beyond the
compass of his experience. They
were not to be had in the Pension
Murphy; but their equivalent was
at hand. Triumphantly he sent
the granite-ware basin at
the head of his matrimonial ad-
versary. Mrs. McCaskey lodged
in time. She reached for a fat
iron, with which, as a sort of cor
dial. she hoped TO bring the gas
Economical duel to a close. But a
loud, wailing scream downstairs
caused both her and Mr.. McCas-
key to pause in a sort of invofun-
tary armistice.
On the sidewalk at the corner of
the house Policeman Cleary was
standing with one ear upturned,
listening to the crash of house
hold utensils.
"'Tis Jawn McCaskey and his
missis at II again." meditated the
policeman. Il wonder shall l 60
up and stop the row. / will not.