Year: 1873

IT is little singular why your wife's
mother will persist in sleeping on cord
bedstead. But she does. You don't think
so much of this until you are called upon
to put it up, which event generally takes
place in the evening. The bedstead has
been cleaned in the afternoon, and having
been soaked through with hot water is
now ready for putting up. Your wife
holds the lamp and takes charge of the
conversation. The rope has been under
water several times in the course of the
cleaning, and having swollen to diameter
greater than the holes in the rails has also
got into a fit of coiling up into mysterious
and very intricate forms You at first
wonder at this, but pretty soon wonder
ceases TO be a virtue, and you scold. The
thread which has been wound around the
end of the rope to facilitate its introduc-
tion into the holes has come off, and you
have to roll it up again Then, after you
have pulled through eight holes, your
wife makes the discovery that you have
started wrong. The way that rope comes
out of those holes again makes your wife
get closer to the door Then you try again,
and get it tangled in your legs. By this
time you notice that this is the smallest
bedroom in the house, and you call the
attention of your wife to the fact by OBJ
serving: "Why on earth don't you open
the door? Do you want to smother me?'
She opens the door and you start again,
and she helps you with the lamp.
First she puts it on the wrong side of the
rail, then she moves it so the heat
comes up from the chimney and scorches
your nose. Just as you need it the most
| you lose sight of it entirely, and turning
around find her examining the wall to see
hat sl,o III gln
| This eXcites you, and brings out the per-
| spiration in greater profusion, and you
declare you will kick the bedstead out of
| doors If she doesn't come around with that
| light. Then she comes around. Finally
the cord is laid all right, and you pro-
ceed to execute the very delicate job OF
! tightening it. The lower ropes are first
walked over. This is done by stepping
on the first one and sinking it down,
hanging to the head board with the clutch
of death. Then you step with the other
foot on the next line, spring that down,
| lose your balance, grab for the head
| board, miss it, and come down in heap
| This is repeated more or less times across
the length of the bed, the only variety be
| ing the new places you bruise. The top
cords are tightened in another way, and
you now proceed to that. You first put
|
some, and as you do it the frightful
thought strikes you that if one of these
feet should slip over, nothing on earth
would prevent you from being split
through to the chin Then you pull uI
the first rope until your eyes seem tc
be ON the point of rolling out OF
their sockets, and the blood in youl
veins fairly groans, and on being convinced
that you can't pull it any further with


out crippling yourself for life, you
catch hold of the next rope and draw that
up, and grunt. Then you move along to
the next, and pull that up, and grunt
again. Just as you have got to the mid
die and commence to think that you are
about through, even if your joints will


never again set as they did before, you
some way or other miss the connection


and find that you have got to go back anC
do it all over. Here you pause for few
minutes of Oracular refreshment, and theI
slowly and carefully work your way back


You don't jump down and walk back, be
cause you are afraid TO spread out in tina


way again. You sort of waddle back
working the way inch by inch, and witt
cOnsummate patience. A man thus
stretched across bedstead never becomes
so excited as to lose his presence of mind
1t would be instant death if he did. TheI
he goes over it again, waddling and pull
ing, groaning and grunting, while hi


wife moves around with the lamp, anC
tells him to take it easy, and not scratch
the bedstead any more than he can help


and that she can't tell which creaks tn,
most, he or the bedstead. And after h


gets through she has the audacity to asl


him to bring in the feather beds. In tn


dead Of night that man will steal up Il
that room and look at the bedstead anC
swear.-DaRbury Nelos.