The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-09-15


 day by day. It is apparent to tht Worked and that she has not the strength to meet the many calls made upon her She needs rest. She needs to have all the burdens lifted from hel tired little shoulders and to go off tc some quiet place where she can loai and coddle herself for a while.
 Her family and friends see that she is fading away before their eyes.
 They are terribly distressed over it,
 and they are full of blame for the
 selfishness of others that is liter
 ally doing her to death. They won der how the others can be cruel
 enough to impose so on her, but
 they are sure that the few little
 things that she does for them do
 her no harm whatever --.-
 Mrs. AS old father and mother live with her, and they have the eccentrici ties of age. They must have certain food prepared in certain ways, because they don't like newfangled cooking They have million little fussy ways that must be catered to, and they cal on Mary a thousand times a day to dc little services for them that they might do for themselves or else do with out. They also feel that they have tht privilege of parents to interfere in the household management and to give end less advice, which makes for continua friction in the kitchen and with tht children.
 All of this wears on Mary's nerves, but father and mother are not willing to deny themselves the
 pleasures of fault-finding to save
 the daughter they really love.
 Mary is nothing but slave to hel husband and children; and it is | shame the way they impose upon her, say Mary's parents. And then mother calls to Mary to find her glasses fol her, and bring her knitting, and fiji her footstool, and father complains tha the new cook can't make pie, and ask Mary to make. it herself for dinner and makes her spend a couple of hourI reading aloud to him.
 Mary's husbands heart stands
 still with fear as he sees how pale
 she is and how wan is the little |, smile she summons to her lips,
 but when the doctor tells him that
 she shoult. go off to a rest cure for
 at least two months he hoots at the
 idea. Why, when Mary's gone the
 house is as desolate as if the fire
 had gone out on the hearthstone
 and the lights had been turned off.
 Why, he doesn't know what to do
 with himself when she's not about.
 Why, when she is gone the cook
 doesn't cook, and the butcher
 doesn't butcher, and the baker
 doesn't bake, and the sun doesn't shine, and everything is at sixes and sevens.
 Its the children that wear her out with their incessant demands
 upon her," says husband, and then
 he wants to know if Mary sent his suit to the presser, and if she telephoned about the coal and the plumber, and asks her to sew on
 button and mend the hole in his
 pocket, and put the studs in his shirt, and find him a fresh collar and clean handkerchief, and to
 hurry up and dress and go out with
 him to some place of amusement
 because he feels like going on a spree.
 The children think it is just awful the way that grandfather and grand mother and father work poor nuns, but that doesn't keep Johnny from tracking up the house or make him find his own cap and pick up his clothes or straighten up the bathroom after he has used it. Still less does it keep Mamie from wanting to give a party to her club, or have real hand work on her underclothes, or from de- manding as many dresses as all the other girls have.
 Mrs. As friends grow eloquent when they discuss how she is put upon. She's perfect saint," they say, and it is just outrageous the way people make a goat of her. It is positively appalling to see the things that her family and friends ask her to do for them. .r
 "Why, the other day when I went over to get her to trim a hat for me-she's really got a touch like French milliner-she was jumping up and down all the time waiting on those selfish old par ents of hers, and doing things for her children, and taking care of the Brown baby while Mrs. Brown went to a marked-down bargain sale. It is just terrible how that poor, little, sick creature is sac rificed."
 Mrs. As visitors are righteously in- ignant at her old guests. T never