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And still the struggle lasted, till the German, Roused by her deep groans from his wandering dreams, Moved, ill at ease, and, feverish, begged for drink.
Up toward the antique Christ in ivory
But when the doctor in the morning came,
set of sun,
By morning's dawn had turned to snowy white.
THE ORIGIN OF SCANDAL.
IAID Mrs. A.
To Mrs. J.
“ It seems to me
That Mrs B.
And Mrs. J.
That very night was heard to say
She grieved to touch
Upon it much, But “ Mrs. B. took—such and such !"
Then Mrs. C.
Went straight away And told a friend the self-same day,
“ 'Twas sad to think”.
Here came a wink “ That Mrs. B. was fond of drink.”
The friend's disgust
Was such she must
“ That Mrs. B.
At half-past three, Was that far gone she couldn't see.”
This lady we
Have mentioned, she Gave needle-work to Mrs. B.,
And at such news
Could scarcely choose But future needle-work refuse.
Then Mrs. B.,
As you'll agree,
That she would track
The scandal back To those who made her look so black.
Through Mrs. K.
And Mrs. J.
And asked her why,
She painted her so deep a dye.
Said Mrs. A.
In some dismay,
several pieces of tinware which needed mending, conceived the idea of getting the iron and solder and doing the mending himself. His wife, filled with vague forebodings perhaps, said that the expense was such a trifle that it would hardly pay to do it one's self, to which he responded :
“ I'll admit that, in this one instance, it would not pay, but there is something in want of repair every little while, and if I have the tools here for fixing it we are saved just so much expense right along. It may not be much in the course of a year, but every
little helps, and in time the total amounts to a nice little lump. We don't want the Astors lugging off all the money in the country.”
He got the iron, one dollar and fifty cents' worth of solder and ten cents' worth of rosin. He came home with these things and went into the kitchen, looking so proud and happy that his wife would have been glad of the purchase were it not for an overpowering dread of an impending muss.
He called for the articles needing repair. His wife brought out a pan.
“Where's the rest? Bring 'em all out, an' let me make one job of 'em while I'm about it.”
He got them all and seemed to be disappointed that there were no more of them. He pushed the iron into the fire, got a milk pan inverted on his knees, and with the solder in his hand, waited for the right heat.
" That iron only cost a dollar, and it'll never wear out, and there's enough solder in this piece to do twentyfive dollars' worth of mending,” he exclaimed to his wife.
Pretty soon the iron was at right heat, he judged. He rubbed the rosin about the hole which was to be repaired, and held the stick of solder over it, and carefully applied the iron. It was an intensely interesting moment. His wife watched him with feverish interest. He said, speaking laboriously, as he applied the iron :
Then ascended through the ceiling the awfullest yell that woman
ever heard, and the same instant the soldering iron flew across the stove, the pan went clattering across the floor, and the bar of solder struck the wall with such force as to smash through both the plaster and the lath. And before her horrified gaze danced her husband in an ecstasy of agony, sobbing, screaming and holding on to his left leg as desperately as if it were made of gold and studded with diamonds.
“Get the camphor, why don't you ?” he yelled. “ Send for the doctor. Oh, oh, I'm a dead man,” he shouted.
Just then his gaze rested on the soldering iron. In an instant he caught it up and hurled it through the window, without the preliminary of raising the sash.
It was some little time before the thoroughly fright
ened and confused woman learned that some of the molten solder had run through the hole in the pan
and on his leg, although she knew from the first that something of an unusual nature had occurred. She didn't send for the doctor. She made and applied the poultices
. herself to save expense. She said :
“ We don't want the Astors lugging off all the money in the country."
ONE sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er,
Than I ever have been before.
Where the many mansions be;
Nearer the jasper sea;
Were we lay our burdens down ;
Nearer wearing the crown.
Winding down through the night,
That leads at last to the light.
Come to the dark abysm,
Presses the awful chrism.