Year: 1873

There was Jolly sort of scene in Mr..
Timothy Thistledown's household, at
breakfast, one morning Mr.. Timothy
Thistledown had just come down to
breakfast, to which Mrs. Timothy This
tledown had preceded him by half an
hour, and he sat himself down at the
head of the table with most self-pos-
sessed air, and n cOuntenauce expressive
of the utmost ease and cOmplacenCF.
He had taken it leisurely in the making
of his morning toilet. His face was
smooth as the shells upon the eggs at
his left hand His razor was in good
order-he had not cut himself in the
operation of shaving The breakfast
table looked nicely III its dressing or i'm
maculate table linen and well-polished
silver. The beafsteak in the covered
dish was savory of the proper cooking
and seasoning. The mullins were hot,
Just as they should be, and two of the
little ThistledOwns were anXiOusly wait
ing for their share of the eatables in n
commercially silent attitude of expecta-
tion-for Mrs. Timothy Thistledown was
good housekeeper, and appreciated the
proprieties of household management
with keenness of perception sometimes
inconvenient.


"a pleasant morning, my dear. Sorry
/ kept you waiting" said Mr. Thistle
down, cutting into the steak.


=" Yes-very, replied his lady, pouring
out the coffee with peculiar sort of
nervousness, and casting sidelong
glance at her husband.


Singular that Mrs L. should have am
swered in such an impendingly breezy
manner, and still more singular when
she burst into tears and left the table
suddenly, at which the young Thistle
downs laid down their pet knives and
forks and looked after mamma, while
the patelnal head of the establishment
followed, napkin in hand, to divine the
possible cause of the difficulty.


And now came the Jolly part of the
domestic scene. Mrs. Timothy Thistle
down had vanished from the dining room
only to adjourn to the library and to
throw herself down upol the SOFA, and
bury one-half Of her face in the worked
cushion, and the other half of the face
III her handkerchief But her forehead,
which was not quite covered, either with
hands or handkerchief, was so suffused
and crimson that the husband and father
feared that something serious had hap
pened-so he Laid his hand affectionately
upon the lady's head, and ventured to
ask the question of how she felt.


Feel, Mr.. Thistledown? O! Tim
sthy, Timothy I"


The Timothy SO addressed started mt
the mention of his name in frightened
manner, and raised her from the sofa
only that she might spring away from
him, and in tragic tone command him
to maintain very distant and respect
full distance


"Tve caught You at last, you brute
you l knew it long ago ~


She simply threw at his feet torn
and crumpled note, in lady's hand
writing, which he picked up and read
while his hands trembled more than his
wife's did when she was pouring out the
coffee.


The missivc was short, expressive and
without address, except upon the en-
yelope, which bore the name of ct.
Thistledown, Esq" in the center, and
was marked " immediate" in one corner,
and it read as follows 81 cannot get
the furs will see You to-day"


Mr.. ThistledOwn blushed fiercely-the
blush was fierce because the note had
been safely placed in his side-pocket,
and Mrs. Thistledown had evidently
"gone through his clothes" to obtain it,
for Mrs. Thistledown was more jealous
than was comfortable TO her husband
and it was not the first outbreak of the
kind which had enlivcned" their matri-
monial existence.


I've found you out at last Mr.. L.
That's where the money goes, / see.
Furs for somebody else, and that some
body woman ~


The supposition was correct one, at
least. Furs for lady were the proper
thing in cold winter, and Mrs. L. had
for some time deplored the condition of
her own-not that they were worn out,
but they were not in style. and Mrs. T.
always liked to be well up to the require
ments of the fashion.