MR. AND MRS. BOWSER.

Waipawa Mail, Volume XIV, Issue 2712, 23 January 1892, Page 3 (Supplement)

MR. AND MRS. BOWSER.

LOTS OF THINGS HAPPEN, BUT IT’S ALWAYS MRS. BOWSER’S FAULT. (SEW YORK WORLD.) “ Mrs. Bowser,” solemnly began Mr. Bowser as he came home to dinner foe other: evening, “what did I say to you when I left the house this morning “ You said it looked like rain,” she answered. “ I said it would rain before night, and it has. I’m wet to the hide.” “ That’s too bad.” “ Too bai! and whose fault ie it ? My mind was occupied with business affairs, and you knew it was, and yet you saw me walk off without an umbrella. Mrs. Bowser, I »» “ Why, you took your umbrella along,” she interrupted. “ Never !” “Of course you did. Don’t you remember dropping it at the gate ? You walked right out of the office and left it there.” “ I did, eh ? Why don’t you call me a firstclass idiot and be done with it?”

“ You must have done so, for you surely carried it away with you.” That’s exactly what he did do, and he knew he did, but he squirmed out of it by offering to bet her a million dollars to a cent, that the front door had been left wide open all the afternoon, and that a hall thief had carried off half the stuff downstairs.

One morning there was a smell of gas down cellar, and Mr. Bowser went down to see if he could discover a leak. He put on an old hat kept for “ poking around” and when he left the house he wore it away. It wits rusty and spotted and broken, and it was only when the boys down town began to “ shoot that hat” that he tumbled to it. Then he flew back home with his eyes hanging out and his face of a phim colour, and he was no sooner inside the door than he shouted :

“ Look at it, Mrs. Bowser—look at that infernal old junk-shop which you deliberately saw me wear away on my head and never said a word about it!”

“ Did you wear that hat down town ?” “ Did I—did I !” be shouted as he banged it on the floor aud jumped on it. “But I didn’t see you go. I was upstairs when you went, Mr. Bowser. ? You are very abseut-niinded. ”

“ I em, eh ! It’s a wonder that I don’t forget to come home, isn’t it! Mrs. Bowser, if there is another house in tbe United States as badly mismanaged as this I’d like to see it.”

“ But can you blame roe because you wore your old hat..away ?” ehe protested. “That’s it—that’s it I Shoulder it off on me ! The papers talk about foe startling number of divorces . It’s a wonder to me there are not five times as many.” One day Mr. Bowser brought home a patent corkscrew, which some fakir had sold him, and Mrs. Bowser saw him drop it into a wall-pocket. A week later, after wandering around the house for half a hour one evening, he halted before her and said :| “ I’ll be hanged if I don’t get some chains and padlocks and see if I can’t have things left where I put them.*’

“ What is it now ?” “ I brought home a can-opener a few days ago and left it on a bracket iu tbe diningroom. It’s gone, of course—probably given away to some big lazy tramp. It’s a wonder we have a thing left in this house !” “ A can-opener !’• “Yes, a can-opener. If you never heard of a can-opener I’ll hire some one to write you out a history of it. It was invented to open “ Why we have two or three in the kitchen. Do you mean a can-opener V” “ I don’t mean windmills or threshingmachines.” “ You had it in a pink paper ?” “ Yes, ma’am.’* “ It was the day the man fixed the gate.” “Well, I saw yon drop it in that wallpocket, and it is a corkscrew and not a canopener.” “It is, eh ? Perhaps I don’t know a hitching-post from the City-hall,” he growled as he reached for the parcel and unrolled it. It was a corkscrew. It could only be used as a corkscrew. It was made and sold for a corkscrew. “ Didn’t I tell yon ?’* queried Mrs. Bowser. “Tell me what y Told me it was a corkscrew', and it’s a can-opener, just as I said it “ It’s a corkscrew.” “ It’s a can-opener.” And os long ae Mr. Bowser draws the breath of life he will stick to it. Because he said 60 in the first place. Like other husbands Mr. Bowser is greatly woriied over foe safety of his wallet while around the house. lie has an idea that Mrs. Bowser would give ten years of her lifie to get that wallet in her hands for about two minutes, and that she lies awake a good share of every night in the year wondering where be hid’it when he went to bed. He makes it a religious duty to conceal it every night, and to count over his funds the first thing in foe morning. Ore morning, strange as it may seem, he left the house without caking his wallet, which he bad hidden foe night before under foe bureau. He had been gone about an hour when there was a great clatter on the front steps, the *door flew open, and he rushed into the back parlour and stood before Mrs. Bowser.

She was so upset that she could only faintly gasp : “ Mr. Bowser, is motherdead ?”

“ Mother dead !” he yelled, in reply, “what do I know about your mother ! Mre. Bowser, I’ve been robbed!”

“ And in my own house at that. Some time during tho night some one got out of bed and stoJe my watlet !” “ Impossible ! Was it in your coat f" “ Well, no—not exactly. For fear of burglars I ” “ You what ?*' she asked, as he hesitated and looked confused. He rushed upstairs, and she followed in time to see him pull the wallet from uuder the dresser. “ Then you wore not robbed !” she tartly observed. “ N-no—not quite : not this time. But let this be a great moral lesson to you, Mrs. Bowser—never to meddle with my wallet! That’s something no husband will put up with.” “ I never touched your wallet.” “ And 6ee that you never do. And don’t talk back, Mrs. Bowser. You have had a very narrow escape, and yon ought to l>e thankful for it —very thankful. Some husbands would have raißed a row; but I think you understand me, and I think the lesson will not be lost ou yon.”