MY MASTER'S MARRIAGE.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2168, 6 August 1897, Page 4

MY MASTER'S MARRIAGE.

(From the "Westminster Budget") Of course I know I am only a foxterrier, but I flatter myself I know n good deal about the world-and I know this—mv master was very much in love. A photograph of the girl stood on our mantelpiece: such a pretty girl, with fluffy-looking hair and large eyes (I was sure they were blue), but a weak mouth. Now don't sav I know nothing about it. because a dog can tell a weak mouth in a minute. I was not at all sorry when I found out my master was in love, although it made him a little dull. Why should men become dull when they fall in love? To tell the truth. I thought it would be rather fun to have a nice girl about the house. I little knew.

We had rooms in Jennyn street: it was quiet, but fashionable, and there were hardly any cats about.

Mv master used to grumble sometimes about his bills. He would stare gloomily at them and sav to his best friend. "I'm jolly hard up. by Jove!" But I don't think this was true. He only said it after a vovy late night out—at any rate, I never saw any signs of it. I always had plenty to oat. I wish now I had eaten more.

My master got married, and we moved

Now. I also know a lot about neighborhoods, and I could not help feeling annoyed when I found that we had come to West Hampstead. The name of the house was "Suortlands." It would have been better applied to the garden.

"Shorthands," Laburnum road (not a tree in sight). West Hampstead. It was not. exactly a low neighborhood, but it was dreadfully suburban. I should have called it "Cat Walk Park."

However. I soon settled down, and we were fairly happy at last. The girl wasn't half as pretty as the photograph—they never are—but she had lived in The country all her life, and was delighted with everything. She called West. Hampstead "London," and quite thought she was living in the centre of it. I wonder what she would have thought of Jennyn street. My master took the train to his chambers every morning, and called ir "going up to town." My new mistress was a playful little tiling, only I don't think she quite meant to be funny.

On my master's birthday, she said, "Oh. Tom, dear, I have bought you a present—do guess what it is," He said, "How naughty of you to waste your money on me. little woman!" "Ob. but I saved it nil out of the housekeeping. Tom." "Did you. dear ? How clever of you!" said my master, but fancy his face fell a little, and I sniffed. That was why the dinners had been so poor lately. However, lie was the best-teinpered man in the world, and he cheerfully began to guess. "What can it be?" he said. "Tics?" "No." "Cigars?" I fancied I saw a look of relief pass over his face when she said "No" to this. "Gloves, then? A cigarette case? Xo? Well. I give it up." "Come and see. you dear old silly !" she cried gleefully. "Do eoine and see. Tom: it's in The drawingroom." It seemed rather a strange place for a man's present, but we went in. I looked ah round and lie looked all round, but we saw nothing. "I must confess I can't find it. pet." said iny master.

"Why, it's there, Tom, right in front of yon." and she pointed to a tall, new bamboo flower-stand full of pampas grasses. My master tried not to look disappointed, but 1 know what he must have felt. If there are two things in this world he hates one is bamboo furniture and the other pampas grasses, and. as for me—well. 1 could have bitten her.

But he had his revenge. Daring dinner he said suddenly: "I have thought of something so nice for your birthday, little woman." (The dinner was unusually bad.) She (eagerly): "Have you, Tom? What is it V" He: "fiuess." She: "A sealskin jacket ?" "No." She (a little disappointedly): "A sable V "No." She (delightfully): "Oh. I know. Tomhow nice of you!—it's a bicycle,'' lie: "No: guess again." She (pouting): "I can't trues*: ioil me." lie (cheerfully): ''lt's a box of cigars." But she didn't think it at all funny, and sulked for quite half an hour. She was not at all a good housekeeper.

and more than once she forgot to order iu the butter; not that I cared—it is a thing I never eat-but we had to bonw from next door to last over Sunday. Then we were jriven hash for dinner, a thing I don't believe my master had ever seen since his schoolroom days, although he took ir beautifully. There was a large church near our house, and the senior curate* used to come and call on us pretty often—much too often. 1 hated him. He hud a look of Heaven ami a beard, but I despise appearances. He had a strange influence over my mistre-'s. and be persuaded her if was very wrong not. to read family prayers. Fancy reading family prayers to—a man. a cook-housemaid, an up-and-down girl, and a fox terrier: However, she promised to do so. and suggested it to my master.

He was not :il all angry, lie only laughed genially, and said. "I don't like family prayers, dear: I always feel such :i man must have led a bad life before his marriage when he takes; to family prayers afterwards." My mistress was very mucli shocked, and sl:e gave the curate nearly :i whole week's housekeeping money toward* his Christmas decorations to console him. but we had hush twice in one week. At last my master began to grow a little fretful Mis wife did not care wh.it she ate. but. to she ;i club man hash twice in one week! ! ! It. really was too bad; even he could not stand that.

I don't think he realised how much of his money was given to the "West African Missionary Fund" or to the H.O.rt.F.C. (Home of Rest for (.'urates), oi- lie might have broken the furniture and the curate's head, and paid the butcher and the baker himself. 1 think he entirely blamed the cook. He was always abusing her to his wife, and saying. "Do send that woman away," and my mistress always absently promised to do so "next time." and asked him To be patient a little longer, as cooks were so difficult to j, r et. The woman certainly had no knowledge even of the rudiments of cooking, and could make little of the materials when they were given her: but she was not entirely to blame. I must say T never saw anyone who put up with thiujrs so long and patiently as my poor master did.

My mistress gradually became so devoted to good works that half her time was either spent in church or at the Mission House, and we were utterly neglected The day before Christmas Day she

spent the afternoon putting up decora* tioos in our house. She hung holly wherever there was room and wherever there wasn't room, and put an ugly piece of red baize up over two of the best pictures (oue an oil painting of met! On the baize was written in old English letters "All Blessings on this Happy i Home." 1 I didn't consider it was at all a happy ■ home. ■ When my master came tack in the 1 evening he took absolutely no notice of it. He hac grown quiet silent and morose in his manner. Dinner came—hash again (part of yesterday's rabbit put with the rest of the beef!) When it was over my mistress said gently. "Tom dear, don't you see my decorations?" Mv master answered very shortly, "Yes." Then she said, "Dearest. I have put up #neh a pretty text." It was hideous pieces of cotton wool sprinkled with shiny stuff and sewn on to the red baize. "Won't you choose one for the other, end of the room? I will make it this evening." She spoke very sweetly, with an evident desire to make him forget the dinner.

My master looked meditatively at the decoration as he rose, put on his coat, and lit a cigar (I firmly believe he was going straight back to town to the club to get a decent meal). His wife waited anxiously a moment, then she said. "Well, darling, what da vou suggest V" He answered slowly and with eurpbas}Si '-p the cook!" Then he wrat our. and I followed nim. R. NEISH.