"See how you like this bread; we are trying the entire wheat flour. I think it's very nice tasting, and they claim it's rich in nutrition. It's warranted to make blood, bone, and muscle--brain, too, I believe. I'm going to eat several pounds a day; I may astonish the world yet."

This feeble joke was received in stolid silence, and the poor little wife crept into her shell.

After a time she peeped out again, and made another effort.

"I went to the womans' club this afternoon; Mrs. Pierson invited me. They had a very interesting meeting; they brought up the subject of smoke consumers. I never realized before how much property is ruined yearly by the smoke. It does seem as if manufacturers ought to use consumers."

At this point Bruin openly yawned, and the little wife again retired. But with astonishing elasticity of courage she issued from her shell once more, this time with the hope that a more masculine theme would meet with some response.

"They brought a petition around here to-day for us to sign. It seems there is some talk of flooring the reservoir and using it as a beer garden this coming summer, and the neighborhood has been called upon to protest against it."

"I know all about that," he growled.

"Have you signed it?"

"I have."

Again silence fell as a wet cloak upon them, and the little woman sat there racking her brains, almost depleted by this time, for the atmosphere which such a man as that creates is warranted to dry up all the intellectual juices.

One more despairing effort. The children had now left the table, so anecdotes of them were in order. Probably the poor little wife thought that this man could be wakened into attention by a story about one of his children.

"Mamie asked me where cats went to when they died. 'They don't go anywhere,' I said; 'when they die, that's the end of them.'

"'Do they turn to dust?' she asked.

"'Yes, just turn to dust,' I said.

"'Why, then,' she exclaimed, and her eyes grew as big as saucers, 'when horses run 'long the streets, are they kicking up cats?'"

All the man said was, "Umph," and the little wife's peal of merry laughter was checked, and the ha ha's grew fainter and spread farther and farther apart, until they died away altogether, and I felt like charging upon that burly, surly demon, and butting him out of the window.




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