The evening Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1918-1920, 1920-06-11
HON
BY SUSAN r. HAYFORD.


For goodness sake, Jim Graham,
what a looking. room! If you aren't
enough 60 try the patience of job
The usually soft voice was high
! pitched and Querulous.
''Why, what's the matter; what's up
I noWT inquired Mr. Graham from the
depths of his newspaper.
'Well, if you would use your eyes
you'd see what was the matter. just
! look at that rug. and after I've cleaned
/ all day. too And his wife pointed an
accusing finger ut the mud tracks that
\ spread across the floor.
! He gave a hearty laugh. $50 that's
all, is it well, I'm sorry. but come and
/ give me Il kiss and say that you for
/ give it this time" And putting an arm
about the trim little waist he drew her
i down to the arm of his chair. But she
WIS not to be so easily appeased, and
VIII an angry jerk SHE pulled herself
/ away.
"Oh, that's Just like you-you never
/ take anything seriously, and | work all
4 day trying to keep things neat. Look
1T your coat on one chair, your hat
! right on the mantel and"
Air. Graham laid down his paper
with a sigh.
We'll, Agnes, suppose we might
rs Well get this settled. I'm getting
| tired of being nagged every night
lately. l never complain about What
you do, and after all | furnish the
lou]e for Il home" he ended angrily.
1t was a very unfortunate remark
Just at that moment, and the tears
flied Mrs. Graham's eyes in spite of
Her efforts to keep them back. Every
WolI, If that's the way YOU feel.
thiak had better earn my own liv-
! in@-I 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 Il
fuss over nothing"
"Nonsense-its more nonsense to be
Il slave for a man, and I'm tired of il"
She flung back over her shoulder as
she fastened to the kitchen, partly to
attend to the cooking supper and part
~ 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
On in the oven she put her head ON the
Aitchen table and wept.
"Oh, why did ever say such things !!
Eat 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 flood of ttnrs
came, but after while she arose 0ith
an air OF determination. and taking
the done dinner from the stove consult
cd the mirror, 10 be confronted with
very red and Hen eyes, and her
new silk waist 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 lsa-
bellies apartments, to let Jim see that
She could get along without him.
She hurried along the avenue, intent
on taking the car just coming in sight,
then & fall and Il sharp pain in her
ankle.
From around the corner someone
appeared and u familiar voice was In
her ear:
Are you hurt, Puss? Tell me
quick"
"Not much. Oh, Jimmy, whore were
you" she gaEped.
"Just been walking around the block
the last hour" he replied carelessIy.
With his arm to support her She hob
bled home in silence, but once inside
the CHEEKY living room the tears start
cd afresh as her husband turned
towards the hall to hang his hat and
overcoat.
Don't, please she cried; "just
throw them anywhere. II love to
see them round; and, Jimmy, I was
all tired and cross, and | truly didn't
mean it," she concluded from the
depths of his shoulder.
The dinner had lost its flavor but
the diners We're radiau1ly happy
enough to overlook it, and fragrant
cup of coffee made a pleasant finish.
Jimmy" she said. Just think mar
red most year and our ticst quarrel.
Wasn't it silly?"
80 silly it will be the hast" said
Mr.. Graham lighting his cigar.
His wife went softly over to his
lhair and put her arms about his neck.
"Well both do just as we like, won't
we? And nobody I'll fuss, for it's truly
home, isn't itf'
She paused as her nus band for the
second time that evening but now all
unresisting drew her to mis- knee.
ITS home where my Ii tile wife is"
he ended.
Copyright. 1919 Mcclure Newspaper Syn
dicate.)
Smoked Salt With Tobacco.N
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