A MODEL HUSBAND.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VIII, Issue 35, 29 August 1891, Page 311

A MODEL HUSBAND.

It was one of those wild nights you read of in nine novels out of ten. The cold spring rain splashed viciously against the panes and the shutters rattled and banged as the titful gusts of wind swept through the deserted streets. It was lodge night, but Brother Fay concluded to stay at home for once, particularly as his mother-in-law was on her periodical inspection tour, and spending a couple of weeks with him. With a sigh he rolled back in the rocker, his feet in a chair and a newspaper spread open before him like a screen. Presently he chuckled, and wife and mother looked up from their sewing inquiringly. • Rather a remarkable case,’ he exclaimed, looking over the top of the paper, and with a suspicious twitch about the corner of his mouth, he read aloud : 1 “ A model husband died recently. He had been married forty-three years and never spent a night away from home. " ’ • Well, I should say he was a model husband,’ broke in the old lady grimly. ‘Just think of it, Mary dear, fortythree years and every evening spent at home. No lodge could coax him away from his family,’ she added, significantly. ‘ Poor man, he ought to have a monument a mile high / and she sighed deeply. Brother Fay held the paper a little higher, ami continued :

‘ Never spent a night from home. He was paralyzed. Without, the storm beat harder and louder (a habit storms have at such times) while within silence reigned, save the suppressed rustle of the paper and the * swish" of the thread through the pillow case on which the old lady was working.