Year: 1861

"
puddings I like-malze it yourself, for
Susan always mangles it, We have
not had one for long time now


There goes my day of leisure tina,
was to have put my garden in such
beautiful order.' sighed Mrs. Arden.
| %, pshaw ? said her husband, con.
templatlng his whiskers in the glass
what do you care about garden work
a woman ought to find her chief happi-
ness in domestic duties. do not an.
prove of this everlasting f1gettine
about flowers p


Harry said his wife, you would
not be at gil contented if your office work
was so endless, that you never got a
moments time to smoke cigar or read
q book or newspaper


'N--no,' replied Mr.. Arden, hesita-
tingly; but then you are not man.


:No--I know I am not,' said Mrs.
Arden quickly, If I were, my wife
should have little time to breathe oc.
casionly'


Mr. Arden went out, shutting the
door with some vehcmencc, behind
him.


I never saw such complaining set
as women are,' was his internal reAcc-
ton as he walked down the street.
Two or three hours steady work dis
posed Of the press Of business awaiting
him, and he threw himself back into
his chair to rest and look over his news
paper. But the balmy wind famed
his forehead like narcotic incense, and
the sensation Of dolce far miente was
inexpressibly delightful--the closely
printed columns became a confused
blur, and the first Mr. Arden knew, he
was not exactly asleep, perhaps, but
certainly not very wide awake.


Something carried him back to the
time when Nellie was q bride.--fresh
and blooming as a rose. How well he
remembered the blue light Of her eyes,
and the satin brightness of her COM
plexion. She had grown wan and wea-
rily looking, since those days. Was it
possible he had been lacking in care
and tenderness? It was rather an IN
easy twinge Of conscience cfor he did love
her rattle-brained and thoughtless
though he Was.


He thought of her setting alone
through the glorious April day, bend
ing over the work he had assigned her,
until the pallor deepened on her cheek
and her eyes grew dim and lusterless-
he remembered the many, many days
she had spent in the same wearisome
occupation. No wonder that the little
garden was a sunny spot to her--no
wonder that she loved the flowers whose
freshness seemed to revive her whole
nature.


A man may be very cruel without
beating her or denying her the nee essi-
ties of life.


Suppose she should drift away from
him like delicate leaf upon a swift
running stream ! He shuddered at the
very idea. She was not strong-the
time mi ight come when a narrow grave
and white head-stone, would be all
that remained Of his little wife. And
then should he not remember all these
things.


He started up from the troubled net
work Of fancy that had woven itself in
to vague dream; the sunshine lay
brightly on the floor and the fingers Of
the Office clock pointed to the hour at
which he usually went to dinner.


The pudding was made the coat in
prime order-the unsatisfactory shirts
ripped apart, and Nellie though pale,
and tired looking, came to the door with
a smile, to greet her husband.


why Harry, what on earth have you
got there?' she exclaimed as Mr.. Ar
den came up the steps, really stagger-
ling under the weight Of two Or three
blossomlng geraniums and verbenas,