Year: 1873

Putting up stove is not so difficult

 in itself. It is the pipe that raises four

 tifths of the mischief and all the dust.

 You may take down a stove with all the

 care in the world, and have your wife

 put away the pipe in secure place, and

 yet that pipe won't come togetheragain

 as 1t was before. You find this out when

 you are standing on chair with your

 arms full of pipe and your mouth full

 of soot. Your wife is standing on the

 floor in position that enables her to

 see you, the pipe, and the chair, and

 here she gives utterance to those re-

 marks that are calculated to hasten Q

 man into the extremes of insanity. Her

 dress IS pinned over her waist, and her

 hands rest on her hips. She has got

 one of your hats on her head, and your

 linen coat on her back, and pair of

 your rubbers on her feet. There is

 about five cents worth of pot-black on

 her nose, and lot of flour on her chin,

 and altogether she, is spectacle that

 would inspire dead man with distrust.

 And while you are up there trying to

 circumvent the awful contrariness of the pipe, and telling that you know some

 fool has been mixing it, she stands safe ly on the floor, and bombards you with

 such domestic notices as: ''What's the

 use of swearing SOP" "You know no one has touched that pipe" "You ain't got any more patience than child"

 "Do be careful of that chair" And then she goes off, and reappears with an armful of more pipe, and before YOU are aware of it, she has got that pipe so horribly mixed up that it does seem no pieces are alike. \

 You join the ends, and work them to and fro, and to and fro again, and then you take them apart and look at them. Then you spread one out and jam the other together, and mount them once more. But it is no go. You begin to think the pieces are inspired with life, and ache to kick them through the window. But she dosen't lose h CT patience. She goes around with that awfully exasperating rigging on, with a length of pipe under each arm, and long-handled broom in her hand, and says she don't see how it is some people never have any trouble putting up a stove. Then you miss the hammer You don't see it anywhere. You stare into the pipe, along the mantel. and down on the stove and off to the floor. Your wife watches you, and is finally thoughtful enough to inquire what you are looking after, and on learning pulls the article from her pocket. Then you feel as if you could go out doors and swear hole through q block of brick buildings, but she merely observes |: " Why on earth don't you speak when you want anything, and not stare around like dummy" When that part of the | pipe which goes through the wall is up, she keeps it up with her broom, while | you are making the connection, and stares at it with an intensity that is entirely uncalled for. All the while your position is becoming more and more interesting. The pipe don't go together, of course. The soot shakes down into your eyes and mouth, the 1 sweat rolls down your face and tickles your chin, as it drops off, md it seems as II your arms are slowly but surely drawing out their sockets.

 Here your wife comes to the rescue by inquiring if you are going to be all day doing nothing, and if you think her arms are made of cast iron, and then the broom slips off the pipe, and in her endeavor to recover her hold she iabs you under the chin with the handle, and the pipe comes down on,your head with it's load of fried soot, and then the chair tilts forward enough to discharge your feet, and you come down on the wrong end of that chair with force hat would bankrupt pile driver. You lon't touch that stove again. You cave your wife examining the chair md bemoaning its injuries, and 40 into he kitchen and wash your skinned and hands with yellow soap. Then you go down street after a man to do he business, and your wife goes over o the neighbors with her chair, and els them about its injuries, and drains he neighborhood dry of its sympathy ong before you get home.-Dan6ayy Ve3DS