Year: 1873

My mother never had sour bread"

 This was most unfortunate remark, and MT. Penney was conscious of it as soon as the words were out but this did not hinder him from going on much in the same strain.

 "Of course I don't know how she managed it, but I remember she used to talk about setting her sponge over night, and then in the morning she was always up as soon as the girl was, and the dough was kneaded and kneaded, and when it came out of the oven it was as white as the driven snow, and as sweet as honey"

 Mrs. Penney's face was scarlet. "I did my best, John" was just trembling on her tongue, but this last elaborate description of the bread-making naodats operGsad5 of his maternal parent turned the disappointment she had felt in not pleasing her husband into gall and bitterness, and she answered in- stead in mocking tone:

 '"As white as the driven snow, and as sweet as honey have seen it stated somewhere that men are not given to exaggeration. Such slight colering, though, l suppose, is excusable, when man is speaking of his mothers superiority over his wife. Hereafter, MT. Penney, if bakers bread does not suit your appetite, the kitchen is at your disposal to set your sponge, and knead and knead and have no doubt that when you take your mess from the oven it will be as white and as sweet as ever your mothers was."

 Just here Mrs. Penney arose, moved the baby's chair away from the table, and, with the chubby year-old in her arms, sought the privacy of her own chamber. Mir. Penney followed.

 "There's no need of getting in huff, Mary," he said, as he closed the doer. In this matter of continuation the gentleman was swayed by two entirely opposite and antagonistic motives He did not like to go to business with a cloud between him and his wife, and he did want the last word. No doubt MT. Penney thought by having the last word he could dissipate the shadows he had so heedlessly evoked but, of course, he was unsuccessful.

 "It is my opinion," he proceeded, |" that if you were to rise little earlier, before the dough had time to sour, you would have just as good luck as mother had"

 "I haven't slept three consecutive hours for the last two months, with this baby, John Penney; and that you know as we'll as do and yet you are thoughtful enough to ask me to get up in the morning when the cook does, in order that your aOhdna may be satis- fed"

 "A whim, is it, to be careful of one's stomach ! to prefer good bread to poor Why, that bread you put before me this morning wasn't fit for a-for a -" John Penney hesitated for mo- ment, but finally It came out-he really did say it, reader-for hog to eat.

 Mrs. Penney was on the point of say ing something especially rasping, if not actually insulting, but she was checked by timid rap on the door, and the en- trance of a sad-faced, delicate woman, who colored slightly as she noted the embarrassment of her hostess.

 "I found that could spare you to- day, Mrs. Penney" she explained. You know thought I should not be able to sew for you until next week but Mrs. Smith was very ill this morn. ing, and could not go on as she in. tended, so, if you like, I will commence your work"

 MT. Penney withdrew with a single good morning to the intruder. In one sense, had come off oonqueror he had had the last word, after all, and that was victory enough. Mary wouldn't