Licking Valley courier., 1921-09-15

Honeybug is a good storyteller, and he
was telling us bully Yarn, and for
brief season we forgot the burdens
laid upon us, which areslgreater than
we can bear. If you couih tell a story
as well as Honeybug does I'd fill these
ancestral halls with silybry laughter,
but you never try to SPY anything
amusing, Mrs. Jamesworthy.. You do
tell stories, but they are Of gloomy
and tragic character.
"Last night, when I came home, you
told dramatic story to the effect that
you had callers all afternoon, and
hadn't chance to cook anything for
me, and so l had to eat canned salmon
and soda crackers, and wash them
down with water, and I insist that
when a husband comes home from his
arduous labors In the changing mart,
SO empty that his watch chain makes a
clanking sound when It flaps against
his spine, he should have warm vic
tuals, something he can epnsume with
pleasure. and pride. The fact that you
had an invasion Of callers is a cheap
excuse. 81
my sainted mother never would
have permitted any callers to interfere
with her management Of the cook
stove. She realized that her old man
kept the shebang going, and that he
should have the right of way. If any
old hens happened to be in the house
when grub time approached, ,my moth
er would request them, firmly but re-
speetfully, to chase themselves, and II
they didn't like It they could lump 1t.
When my father came home from his
work, the hay was always In the
manger for him, and he never had to
wait FIVE minutes for a meal.
"The day before yesterday, when I
came staggering home, faint and
weary from my herculean efforts to
make both ends meet, you told me an
other story. It was to the effect that
you had been downtown sizing up a
shipment of new spring hats, just re-
ceived at the millinery foundry, and
you were so interested you forgot the
lapse Of time, and didn't get home in
time to cook anything. But you flashed
a winning smile at me, and said it
wouldn't take you ten minutes to warm
up a can Of beans, and there was some
cold coffee left from breakfast, and you
had plenty of smoked herrlngs on
hand.
Doubtless I should have burst forth
into bOisterous laughter over this en-
tertaining anecdote, but somehow II
didn't appeal to my sense Of humor.
l was so busy that day / hadn't time
to eat anything at noon. and all the
way home l was hoping you would
have porterhouse steak about three
inches thick, and a raft of boiled po
tatoes, and perhaps a slab of mlnce
pie as an epilogue.
"The day before that, when I came
home as hollow as a bass drum, ant
fairly gnashing my teeth with hun
ger, you related a humorous story L
the effect that your club didn't adjourn
on time that afternoon, and you dldn'
get home until late, so would hav'
to get along with picked-up supper
II l would be patient a few minutes
you said, to make the story seem NOR
spicy, you would boil an egg for me
and there was cold corn bread in tn
cupboard.
"Such stories, Mrs. Jamesworthy
may seem highly amusing to an limo
cent bystander, and have no doub
they would make a great hit II writer
up and printed in London Punch, bu
there Is something wrong with m
sense Of humor, or am at the wron
end Of the stories. Anyhow, I can
gurgle over them as do over Honey
bugs yarns"