The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-09-13
Listening In On Eue
Being A Model Husband.

Being A Model Husband. WE'LL, my dear," conceded Pond, " when Mrs. Pond suggested
 that he spend the evening re- moving the epiderndis from bushel of pears, "I had tentative engagement for bridge, but"
 Ut is always the open season for bridge. while pears have to be canned when you can. All our friends make fifty-fifty job of these tasks. Frank Leight stuck by Gertrude from noon till midnight pairing onions for. pickles and Clancy"
 q know the whole list of model husbands by heart, Ada, and you need not catalogue 'em. I'll be a model hus- band for one night, anyhow pairing the pears"
 Mrs. Pond tied a generous apron around him and he addressed him self to the task. Don't you ever have these knives sharpened?" he grumbled presently.
 Ut isn't the knives, it's the pears. They are quite hard. They keep bet ter if not too ripe, dear"
 Fruit ought not to need whiting like pine stick" was his next remark. No wonder the canneries are short of help. I should think they would in- vent some other way to take the skins off"
 Ponds bed never looked more in- viting than that midnight when the work was done.
 Where were you last night?" was the question asked of Pond by the neighbor to whom Pond was giving a lift in his car. "We. were looking for you to fill table at bridge"
 "I was being a model husband" Pond replied with conscious pride. You see, my wife is an old-fashioned housekeeper she has to have a pantry full of jars, so last might l assisted with bushel of pears. Say, old man, don't ever choose pears when you're trying to be a model husband. My arm is lame, my hands are blistered, and had the most horrible nightmare, I dreamed I was a Mormon, and had a hundred wives and each had bushel of pears"
 Some dreamw agree his companion. Thanks for the lift"
 The car was slowing down as it approached the home neighborhood and Ponds neighbor exclaimed: "As live, the parcel postman is delivering a bushel basket to you. "I'll bet it's pears! So long, Ripley! Wish you a pleasant evening !"
 It was peaches, not pears. "Just see what your cousin has sent us from up state,p said Mrs. Pond. "A bushel of grand Elbertas! Luckily there are plenty of jars and rubbers. You can begin to peel them while get us a snack"
 "I'll be back in a minute," said Pond. Presently he returned to the kitchen brisk and smiling, Id ex- plained with touch of masculine superiority: You know, Ada, said there must be some easier way to skin 'em. Well, Tread today that they use muriatic acid, which takes the skin off perfectly, with not al knife mark any where. just got the acid, and now we can do it scientifically"
 Did you bring the magazine home? I'd like to read oniething about the method" E
 Ut is perfectly simple, bath of acid. then plenty of clear water. Any body can do it. Get me crock or something"
 With misgivings Ada set a brown earthen bowl in the sink, and Pond poured out acid with liberal hand. Then he dropped in a handful of peaches, splashing the acid in all direc- tions.
 Look out for your clothes, Rip ley! Oh, dear, where is the amonia , bottle? There won't be thing left of your apron or anything. Turn the wa ter on quick; that stuff might take the finish all off the sink" E<.
 Pond snatched off the apron and his wife poured ammonia over his suit till he strangled.
 manded firmly: Hire woman to peel lem! Scientific methods don't seem to apply in a home kitchen"
 Ponds cousin was surprised at the unwonted promptness of Ripley's ac- letter the cousin received, Ada is ex Elbertas you sent us. l share her gratitude, with reservations. When you hear that I was doing the model hus. band act on bushel of pears before these peaches arrived-youIl under . stand. I've done my turn. Now old man, you being my brother, not only in one lodge but in three, don't you, for Pete's sake, ship any more peaches, pears, grapes, apples or any other can ming material in our direction. This model husband stuff is finis,
 Yours, till the River Jordan freezes 0vaP v