A Wife’s Stratagem.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 993, 13 March 1891, Page 5

A Wife’s Stratagem.

I know a young man (says a writer in the Boston Herald), whs is rich, married to beauty, and unhappy. Perverse and impossible cieatnre, you will say. Why should he be unhappy with wealth and a lovely wife ? It is a strange case. Snobson —let us disguise the sad-eyod gentleman with that name—has an ungovernable thirst. He was born with it, so his mother says, and it is utterly uncontrollable. He would be very happy if he was allowed to sit in the corner of some quiet liquor dispensary all day and devote bis attention to getting as completely filled as the aopply of spirits would permit. But instead of living in such a delicious Utopia as this, his pietty wife keeps her fine eye on him and compels him to report at all society events. Snobson is now at. a fashionable watering place, looking very disconsolate and feeling very sober. Occasionally he escapes from his wife and succeeds in getting a series of drinks before she captures him again. At one of these moments a friend was offering sympathy and a cocktail to Snobson. * Why, my dear boy,’ exolaimed his.friend, * you are not clever. The night time is when you have your grand opportunity. After your wife has seen you safely to bed pretend to sleep very peacefully until after she gets Into the land of dreams. Then you get quietly up and join U 3 on the outside. You could call back at the end of three hours or so, and she would never find you out.’ Snobson ehook h"s head sadly and replied— • You don’t know wliat you are talking about, old man. Yon have little or no idea what sort of woman my wife is. If I got out of my bed when once I got into it I should be compelled to drag her with rae.’ ‘What!’ cried the other. ‘You don’t mean to say you are fastened to her !’ 4 1 do,’ replied Snobson. 4 What with ?’ gasped the friend.

4 Handcuffs,’ rejoined Snobaon. It is literally true. Snobaon had long ago thought of the midnight escape plan, and worked the scheme very successfully just once. The next night upon retiring, his beautifal wife explained to him that she had prepared herself againßt any repetition of the proceeding. Meekly and dejectedly Snobson then submitted to having a glisten. Ing steel handcuff fastened upon his left wrist. The other section of the instrument encircled the delicated wrist of his wife. Since then the miserable Snobson has gone to slumber at the same moment Mrs Snobson desired to, and has restrained from in. dalging the strongest appetite of his nature by the invariable presence of the handcuffs. The publication of this little story is, I am aware, very unfair to the hundreds of other men who sympathise with Snobson’s thirst. It offers a weapon to all despairing wives.