MR. AND MRS. BOWSER.

Waipawa Mail, Volume XVI, Issue 2715, 30 January 1892, Page 3 (Supplement)

MR. AND MRS. BOWSER.

SOME OLD RECOLLECTIONS REVIVED AND DENIED. (new yobk 'WOELD.) “ I see,” said Mrs. Bowser, as Bhe aat reading the paper the other evening, while Mr. Bowser was trying to dig a peg out of his shoe—“ I see that another Brooklyn man has run away and left his wife.” “ Has, eh r Well, I don’t wonder at it,” replied Mr. Bowser. “ Did you read the item f” “ No, but I know how it all happened. He found out that he couldn’t take a bit a comfort in his home, and ho loft it. No one knows the misery that poor man suffered before he took that step. “ It doesn’t say he waaunhappy.” “Of course not. No husband ever gets justice, to iiy nothing of pity. I’ll bet he suffered a thousand deaths before he walked away to die in some lonely spot by his ewn hand.” “ Well, dear, you’lhnever be driven away by any astof mine,” she said, as she went over and kissed him. “ W—what in thunder are you doing V” shouted Mr. Bowser as he dropped the shoe and sprang up. “ Why, I kissed you.” “ Well, I don’t want anybody blowing into my ears or spitting on my chin ! What struck you all at once ?” “ There was a time, Mr. Bowser—there was a time when ” “ When what?” “When you said that if I would kiss you you would be the happiest man in the whole world.” “Never! Never even hinted at such a thing. I wasn’t that sort of a noodlehead.” “ Mr. Bowser ! Why, there was for three months, while I was waiting to make up my mind to marry you, that you said you could hardly live from day to day.” “Waiting! you waiting! Well, that is cool: That tickles me—ha! ha I ha I” he shouted as he held his sides. “ Yes, waiting.” “Why—ha! ha! ha!—you said ‘yes’ so mighty quick you bit your tongue in doing it ! The idea of me pining and wasting away because I feared yon would say no.” “ Do you remember the pet name you used to call me ?” she asked. “ Pet nonsense.” “ You called me your red wild rose.” “ Red wild pigweed ! Are you getting soft in the head, Mis. Bowser ?” “It seems curious to me,” she continued, without noticing his sarcasm, that when a young man is courting a girl no one can make him believe that she is not a perfect angel. He can’t work days nor sleep nights for thinking of her, and the sight of her a mile away sets his heart to beating like an engine.” “It does, eh ?” It might in the case of a spoony young noodle-head, but it wouldn’t with a sensible fellow. I never lost any sleep on your account.” “ Neaxly all your letters tome were dated anywhere from midnight to 4 o’clock in the morning, and ” “ Never ! Never wrote you a letter except in the afternoon, when I hadn’t anything to do and. wanted to use up half an hour’s time,” replied Mr. Bowser. “ And every one of them speaks of how lonely you were, aDd with what joyous anticipations you looked forward to your next call.” “ Lonely ! Joyous anticipations ! I’d be apt to be lonely when there were a dozen or more mighty good-looking girls after me, wouldn’t I V” “ But in a few brief years after marriage how the average husband does change !” observed, Mrs. Bowser, as if speaking to herself. “ Yes, that’B it. Yon hunted me down and got me to marry you, and now you are trying to make my home happy. If you are feelin" badly why don’t you go and make yourself some capnip tea.” “ Husbands talk about happy homes,” she continued, as she looked the paper over, “ but what do they do to make it happy ?” “ Yes, pitch into husbands!” growled Mr. Bowser, as he swept over the shoe-peg and savagely kicked at the cat, which came to rub herself against his leg. “ While they are courting they are all smiles and soft talk, but the honeymoon is no sooner over than they stand revealed in their true colours.” “Keep pitching right in. Mrs. Bowser. Nothing like a fault-finding wife to make home pleasant!” “Do you remember that Fourth of July evening when we sat on the verandah ?” she asked. “I shall always remember what you said that night and how much the situation affected yon.” “ Affected me ! What on earth are you talking abont ?” “ You took my hand in yours, Mr. Bowser, and you asked me to please try and learn to

love you.” “Never! If you’d swear to that on 16 family Bibles I wouldn’t believe it.” “ You said that life wa3but a dreary waste to you before I crossed yourjiath, and ” “ I never did—never ! never! never!” he shouted as he sprang up. “No one butyou ever charged me with, being an idiot or a lunatic!” “ Mr. Bowser, didn’t you say that if I didn’t marry you you’d surely kill yourself ?” “ No !” “ Didn’t you once show me some bakinspowder in a pill-box and tel! me it was strychnine, and you’d take it if I married any one else ?” “Never! Never cared two cents whether, you married me or not!” - “ And you deny that when father came out one evening and threw you off the stoop and told you never to come back, that you wrote me you -” “Threw me off the stoop! Your father! By the great homspoou, but this is too much, Mrs. Bowser. Threw me ! I’d like to have seen the whole caboodle of your relations throw me off a stoop “ Perhaps you don’t remember how you used to compare my eyes to stars, and tell me that it would be the one effort of your life to make me happy r” “ Eyes! Stars ! The idea of my talking any such bosh ! I came home expecting to spend a happy evening in the bosom of my family, and you’ve gone and knocked it all over; That’s the way with the tarnal women—always kicking and complaining about something.” “ There was a time when you used to pet me, Mr Bowser.” “ That’s it! Keep right on harping on that same old string. If a husband don’t tell his - wife 40 times a day that she’s hi 3 shining star she’s ready to kick and make his home miserable. I may be driven out any day now. I’ve l seen it coming for the last two years, but I was helpless. I’m going to lock up and go to bed. , Good night, Mrs. Bowser.”