Year: 1873

l declare, Susan, we must turn Ovel
a new leaf. This is having breakfas
rather late It's too bad, certainly,
responded Susan.


Past eight o'clock


And they both looked up at the ole
clock, ticking loudly in the corner
where it had licked the same way fol-
many years, the hands upon the face
of which indicated ten minutes past
eight-minute5 which Guild never be
ecaiIed-minutes lost for ever-and
lost because they had been thrown
away in useless morning mapping


1t makes it hard for me- said Susan
i find it almost noon when I get nv
mornings work done. Let US try,
John, to reclaim one of the lost hours
Tomorrow


Wen do it, answered John reso.
lutely.


So far as blame was concerned in
this matter of tardiness neither could
blame the Othe-. They were not
young people. They had passed the
silver weding' two years before, and
not only were their children sitting at
the table with them, but grandchild.
bright and promising, shed a double
radiance upon the household. John
LamsOn, in his middle-age, was not
forced to count his hours very careful
Iy for the matter of sustenance. His
attention had been attracted to the
lateness of the breakfast hour by other
considerations. In the first place, it
didn't look well and then he knew it
must be bad for the women folks.


1t must be bad for you, Susan. I've
thought of it before. And it's bad in
another way he said. with dignity
It's physiologically bad. Our break
fast can't be more than half digested
when the dinner hour comes-& at
any rate, our stOmahs can't have had
the proper time for rest. It'll be al
most nine o'clock by the time We get
up from the breakfast table. Only
three hours to noon. Phew!'


Tomorrow emOrniug.' said Mrs
LamsOn, with a smile. you will get up
when l call yOu?'


Yes. always do that, you know.
But l ought to get up without being
called


Never mind. John. If you start
when called it will be in ample time.
You weren't quite up to time this
morning.


How SOP


why, l spoke to you when left the
chamber, and you didn't get up for a
long time afterwards,


1 beg your pardon, my dear, [ was
up Immediately


Not for half an hour, at least, after
| came down.


'What time did you come down ~


The clock struck seven just after l
got into the Kitchen"


And it was just exactly seven when
l got out of bed, said John, emphat-
ically.


That couldn't have been,' asserted
Susan, with equal emphasis. Il looked
at the clock when | entered the kitch-
en-, and l heard you when you went
into the bathroom


Up to this point the twain had con-
versed in cheerful tones, and with
smiling faces but here the voices be-
came set and rigid. and the smiles de-
parted They had been married seven
and-twenty years, and had experienced
many, very many, just such passages
as this present. Many and many a
time had the sunshine Of their home
been darkened by just such clouds. of
folly as they were now inviting.


Il tell YOU" said John, with a harsh
sternness, that l looked at our cham
Der clock when | got up, and it was
right upon the tick of seven; and L
know that the two clocks agree


L don t care for that, returned Susan
quickly. What l know, know


And what l know l knOwn eX-
claimed John, vehemently.


You think you know" suggested
the wife, with spice of derision in
her tone.


Think y cried John, with compress
ed lips and darkenins brow. 4
KNowr And then, with the dictation
OF master, he added


Look for yourself, and consider.
You know it takes me from fifteen to
twenty minutes TO wash and dress at
the very quickest. This morning,
after | had dressed, | went out and
broke away the snow from the cellar
windows: and, beyond that, L waited
at least ten minutes for the breakfast
bell, and we were down at the table
before eight Will you have the kind
ness to reckon all that up for yourself,
and see how you come OutY


John Lamson spoke with taunting
and there was heat of ill
feeling in look and tone. He felt that
he had conquered, and with a thump
of his knife handle upon the table, as a
general might sheathe his sword, he
applied himself to his breakfast.


Aye, he had conquered. Susan was
crushed and broken. She tried hard
to subdue the swelling emotions, but
they were too much for her Like
of other women, the la
bOurs and the cares of maternity had
shattered a system once buoyant and
strong, and middle-age-the age of
her broken in nerve, and
greatly upon surrounding
for light and happiness.


John Lamson, at just the same age,
was strong and well. In fact, it was
his boast that he was never so well in
his life. Success had attended his
efforts, and from the graceful
frame of youth he had grown to a
rotund and substantial portliness.


And through all the years of his sue
cess his wife had been unto him a
helper and a guide-helping him in
word and deed, and guiding him by
love and devotion that knew neither
nor shadow of turning.


When, on the present occasion. John
Lamson saw his wife's eyes fill with
tears, and saw her cover her face with
napkin, and saw, also, that the chil>
dren were in sympathy with her, his
impulse was one of Indignation; and
it was only by strong effort at self
control that he restrained himself from
telling the sobbing woman she was a
fool. But he held his peace, and ate
on in silence. The sunshine was gone,
and his appetite had gone with it. AT
length, with a suppressed grOwl, NOV
in oack and replacing his chair, he
rose and left the table.


In the privacy of his own room,
under the solace of his pipe, John
soon became cool and reflect
i've. He had the experience of more
han a quarter of a century of married
life on which TO reflect; and as he sat
In his easy chair and smoked he look
I'd back over the years that were gone,
and called to mind the sunshine and
Ihe shadoW-and how nuch of that