The evening Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1918-1920, 1920-06-15
HON.
BY SUSAN r. HAYFORD.

For goodness sake, Jim Graham
what looking room! If you aren
enough 20 try the patience of job"
The usually soft voice was higl
pitched and querulous.
"Nhy, what's the matter; what's IL
now?" inquired Mr.. Graham from tn
depths of his newspaper.
"Well, If you would use your eye
you'd see what was the matter. Jus
look at that rug and after I've cleane,
all day, too" And his wife pointed al
accusing finger at the mud tracks tina
spread across the floor.
He gave a hearty laugh. $50 that.
all, is it; well, I'm sorry, but come An(
give me kiss and say that you for
give ii this time" And putting an arm
about the trim little waist he drew hel
down to the arm of his chair. But she
was not to be so easily appeascd. anC
with an angry jerk she pulled herself
away.
"Oh, that's just like you-you never
take anything seriously. and | work all
| day trying to keep things neat. Look
at your coat on one chair, your hat
right on the mantel and"
Mr.. Graham laid down his paper
with sigh.
well, Agnes, l suppose we might
as well get this settled. I'm getting
tired of being nagged every night
lately. ! never complain about what
you do, and after all | furnish the
house for a home" he ended angrily.
1t was a very unfortunate remark
Just at that moment, and the tears
filled Mrs. Graham's eyes in spite of
her efforts to keep them back. "Very
well, if that's the way you feel.
think | had better earn my own liv-
ing-l did once without any trouble,
and you can have your house just as
you please" she said with sarcasm.
Her husband arose from his chair
and spoke severely: Don't talk non
sense; what is the use of making q
fuss over nothing:"
"Nonsense-it's more nonsense to be
n slave for a man, and I'm tired of it,"
she flung back over her shoulder as
she FASTENED to the kitchen, partly to
attend to the cooking supper and part
ly to hide the falling tears.
Presently her husband appeared at
the dining room door in hat and coat.
You needn't wait up for me; have
key. Good evening"" he said coldly,
and was gone.
"Wait, Jim" she cried, but the front
door closed before she could finish the
sentence.
Regardless Of the over-brown chick
en- in the oven she put her head on the
kitchen table and wept.
"Oh, why did / ever say such things!
But then he might have known that
didn't mean them, and he didn't seem
TO care if | did leave; probably he'd
be glad" and Il fresh food of tsnrs
came, but after while she arose with |
an air of determination, and taking
the done dinner from the stove consult |
ed the mirror, to he confronted with |
very red and len eyes, and her
new silk waisi spotted with tear
drops.
Half an hour later, a veil hiding her
tear-stained eyes, she locked the door
and started for her dear chum Isa-
bellies apartments, to let Jim see that
she could get along without him.
She hurried along the avenue, intent
IN taking the car just coming in sight.
hen a fall and sharp pain in her
ankle.
From around the corner someone
lppeared and familiar voice was in
Ter ear;
"Are you hurt, Puss? Tell me
luick."
"Not much. Oh Jimmy, where were
'OuT she gasped.
Just been walking around the block
he last hour" he replied carelessly. i
With his arm to support her she hob
He'd home in silence. but once inside
he CHEEKY living room the tears start {
d afrcsh as her husband turned J
owards the hall TO hang his hat and {
vcrcOat
Don't please" she cried; "just
brow them anywhere. II love to ;
ee them round; and, Jimmy, l was :
II tired and cross, and | truly didn't l
lean it," she concluded from the :
cpths of his shoulder.
The dinner had lost its flavor but =
he diners We're radiantly happy .
nough to overlook it, and n fragrant A
up of coffee made a pleasant finish. y
"Jimmy,' she said, Just think, mar l.
ed most a year and our first quarrel. q
'asnt it silly" il
$50 silly 1t will be the last" said
r. Graham lighting his cigar. b
His wife went softly over to h,r Il
lair and put her arms about his neck. 81
Ven both do just as we like. won't Y
g? And nobody II fuss, for it's truly st
me, isn't it?' W
She paused as her husband for the u
cond time that evening, but now all II
resisting drew her to his knee. p
"Its home whore my little wife is" u
ended. l.
opyright. 1919. Mcclure Newspaper Syn "A
dlcate.) W