Democratic Sentinel, Volume 1, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 August 1877 — THE HOUSE CLEANING. [ARTICLE]

THE HOUSE CLEANING.

Mr. Walter Ammidon laid his knife and fork down with a gesture of absolute despair. “ Not going to clean house again, Mrs. Benedict I Why, it seems as if we had \ only just recovered from the dreadful \ tearing-up process of last fall,” j Mrs. Benedict slowly dropped four lumps of sugar into his coffee, then handed it to him, utterly regardless of / the misery in his face. “ Dreadful tearing up ! iliat’i; perfect nonsense, Mr. Ammidon. As if you were very much inconvenienced hist October while the carpets were up and the curtains down ami the painting going on. Of course I shall clean ; it’s my habit, and has been for twenty-odd years,” Mr. Ammidon gave a. little groan at the sad fate that awaited him—that awaited all bachelors in boarding-houses —in the shape of several consecutive days of bare floors and the odor of soap ; of cold dinners eaten wherever it was convenient to set the dining table ; of Mrs. Benedict in a chronic state of bustle and crossness, and the servants impudent, tired and sulky ; of wide-open doors and windows ; where the draughts tore through. > He was a gentleman, however, Mr. Ammidon was, and so repressed his illtemper and disgust ami mental maledictions that house cleaning was a purely malicious instigation of his satanic majesty for the torment of mankind. “ We’ll be so nice and sweet and clean,” Mrs. Benedict went on, with horrible cheerfulness, “and I’ve been thinking that I'll have your rooms newly {lapered, Mr. Ammidon. I’m sure you’ll ike that ?” “Very much—when it is done, /madam.” And he cut his meal short and rushed lout of doors into the cool, fresh October (evening air. i “Ah, bah! I can already experience the agonies of last fall! Good Heaven ! '.the woman must be made. of cast-iron to such a siege again. Jt is no 'under her husband died if he suffered Eo attacks of house-cleaning a year, and ball die or go crazy unless I leave her rbut J suppose all women are equally (iotio. ” A groan of genuine misery broke from uih lips as he strode along, his hat Jammed over his eyes- very unlike the Handsome gentleman jic really was, with his frank, cheery face anti pleasant mouth, with the whim even teeth, and the half-curling, thick, dark hair, and the grave, intelligent eyes, that nothing /utile as the, idea of Mrs. Beue-Bcmi-amimil tearing-up a courtI'effned, genial gentleman whom /found a puzzle because of his taut bachelorhood, when it knew ieastlialf a dozen who would have rd at the faintest chance, of an offer ; marriage from him -who himself /ondered why he had never faille n in bye—and whom pretty little Mrs. Baldwin, the blue-eyed, blonde-haired widow, with no incumbrance, a house of /her own, and an income of three, thou sand dollars a year, often felt piqued with that he was so very unimpressionable. So Mr. Ammidon strode along, almost mechanically turning corners, his pace gradually growing slower, and then all at once he heard the brilliant tones of a piano as some skilled hand played, and, looking up, found himself in front of a - warmly-lighted, cheery, hospitable house —the very house where Mrs. Bessie Baldwin lived. The contrast was so strikingly vivid between the pictures in his imagination that he involuntarily paused—one, the picture of thy way Mrs. Benedict’s boarding-house would look next day, the other of how Mrs. Baldwin’s elegant I little home always appeared when he called there, and as it appeared now through the lace curtains—quiet, warm, hospitable, inviting. And like a revelation from heaven it came to him -an idea, a determination that was so strong, so resistless, that he .walked up Mrs. Baldwin’s front steps and rang the door-bell, wondering as he did why the music had ceased, and where the player had gone. “I’ll marry her if she’ll have me, ami nen we'll see how many times a year the house is cleaned; that is if ” Then the door opened and the maid invited him into the parlor, with the information that Mrs. Baldwin had just run into a neighbor’s by the side gate, but would be back directly if the sick child was better she had gone to see. Mr. Ammidon ensc'nced himself in the easiest chair in the room— a great deep, wide, cushioned affair was drawn up’ by the little,, low table under the chandelier. “Bless her pretty blue eyes! Gone to see a sick child; I like that—l like it. What a blessing it occurred to me to offer myself to such a good-hearted, cheerful, tender, fond little woman as she is; and what a miraculous fool I have been not to have done it long ago. Why, honestly I feel as if 1 had been in love with her all along; and I believe I have been, and never knew it.” His handsome head leaned comfortably against the cushions, and his well-shaped, well-booted sett were crossed on a low ottomm near the tire that burned cozily and brightly. He waited ten—twentythirty minutes, and when she had not come at the expiration of three-quarters of an hour Mr. Am midcm was conscious of a keen disappointment that astonished himself. “At all events my object shall be accomplished, so far as I can accomplish it,” he thought. And he took his gold and ivory pen and wrote an ardent, courteous, undeni- ' ably eager statement of his case, asking i her to be his beloved wife, and begged I * ”, answer on the morrow, when she j mid be visiting Mrs. Benedict. 1 *1 accidentally learned you would 1 e tea with us to-morrow night,” he bte, “and I must know at once when i meet you if I am the blessed man I Ipe to be. If yon can look favorably Amy suit let me know by answering Acs’to the question I put to you. If ft is otherwise, I will not trouble you ' further.” Then he signed himself suitably, put the folded and addressed note conspicuously on the top of a pile of newspapers and sheet music on the piano, and took his leave, in a strange whirl of excitement and expectation. Half an hour later Mrs. Baldwin came i in, Mid stopped as she passed the (lining I rwiu door to speak to the girl, 6 j

“ You carried all those papers and the music up stairs, Annie, as I told you?” “ The very minute the gentleman went away, Mrs. Baldwin—it was Mr. jlmmidon, and he came just as you went out. ” “Oh, that’s too bad that I was not in ! Mrs. May’s little baby is very, very sick, Annie.”

And so Mrs. Baldwin never knew of the precious letter, as she sat there alone by the fire, thinking of the caller she had missed with genuine sorrow and paling cheeks and eyes full of disappointment. For pretty Mrs. Bessie, with her soft blue eyes and rebelliously curly hair, and small, perfect figure, was more interested in the handsome bachelor than she cared to admit even to herself. The next day she dressed with unusual care for her afternoon visit to Mrs. Benedict, wondering, as she basted the soft little niching around the neck of her sleeveless velvet jacket, and adjusted the poufs of her black silk overskirt., whether or not Mr. Ammidon would think she looked well, end whether, possibly, he might not escort her home. So her eyes were dancing with radiant blue sunshine, and her cheeks were flushing a most delicious rose pink hue, her lovely mouth dimpling into bewitching smiles, when Mr. Ammidon came into the sitting-room, several minutes before the time for the dinner-bell to ring—Mr. Ammidon, handsomer than she had ever seen him, in a dark-blue cloth suit, with white tie, and his face so grandly intelligent and animated as he went up to her and offered her his band, looking straight into her face as he spoke, very quietly, but with all his fate in his words—and she so smiling, unconscious.

‘‘ I am very glad to see you, Mrs. Baldwin. Didn’t you find it very cool this afternoon ?” Then she met his gaze, hating herself because her heart was throbbing so gladly at the sight of him, and despising herself because he had thrilled her from head to foot. Then, never knowing her fate was in it, she turned her beautiful face carelessly away and withdrew her hand, and answered him : “ No; I thought it was charmingly pleasant.” And Mr. Ammidon recoiled as if he had been struck a dreadful blow, and could not, for the life of him, console himself with the conviction that women were fools and men were well rid of them. The next day he told Mrs. Benedict he would not want his apartments any longer, ami had his trunks packed and sent to a hotel. Mr. Ammidon determined to kill two birds with one stone—to get rid of the possibility of having to meet often Mrs. Benedict’s friend, the pretty little woman, than whom he had never loved another more, and to make his home where house-cleaning was unknown, and Bessie cried till her eyes were red and swollen to think how entirely indifferent Mr. Ammidon was to her. And the winter crept softly along in soft, white, snowy robes, and several times Mrs. Baldwin saw Mr. Ammidon driving past, although he didn’t do more ns he passed than glance carelessly at the window ami bow. And the sweet warm spring days came, and with perfumy tints of roses and woodbine, and fresh emerald leaves, and climbing vines, and bursting blossoms, came Bessie Baldwin’s fate, in the shape of the unromantic, the inevitable spring cleaning that must be undertaken and accomplished, no matter how temptingly balmy sunshine and fragrant breezes and cloudless skies came to welcome them.

'Thus it happened that Mrs. Baldwin stood in one of her chambers with a blue veil tied tightly over her golden hair, and her muslin dress pinned up in front, disclosing ravisbingly lovely feet, despite the half-worn boots, with a basket lying in readiness beside her, and hep faithful ally, Annie, waiting to consign piles of waste to deathly ignominy, and the paper and rag man. “Only one pile more, Annie, and aren’t you glad we’re so nearly done ? I [ere, you sort the papers, and I’ll see that nothing worth saving has been put with this music.”

And a minute after the soft, rustling stillness was broken by a sudden ejaculation from Mrs. Baldwin, and Annie looked up, wide-eyed to see her rending a penciled note, with paling face and trembling lips. “It’s a letter I lost, that’s all, Annie. Go on with the papers. There is a man nt the door. I’lF go down. You can finish.” And with fluttering heart and eyes that were suspiciously bright Mrs. Bessie went down stairs, glad of an opportunity to get away by herself a few minutes to think it all over, to try to realize that it was true that Walter Ammidon had loved her. And she brushed away tears that were both rapturous and full of disappointment and fear, and opened the front door to Walter Ammidon. He bowed with a look of surprise and chagrin, fearing lest, now that his love for Bessie Baldwin had overleaped its boundaries, and force-1 him to ’a second attempt to win her love—that had become more precious in proportion as it seemed unpossessable —fearful lest his coming, as suggested by her appearance, was inopportune and awkward.

But (Mrs. Baldwin flushed and smiled, and looked lovely despite the old blue veil. And then he suddenly discovered she held in her hand the note he had written her six months ago. She answered his inquiring look as she conducted him into the parlor. “ I have only this moment read your letter. Oh, Mr. Ammidon, what must you have thought of me all this time?” His face lighted gloriously. “ That you were the sweetest little darling in all the world, whom I loved so, anil wanted so, that I came again today to plead my cause. Bessie, consider that let ter written just now—what would be your answer ?” And she dropped her white eyelids and hall-averted her sweet face, and the answer came through her parted lips, so low that only lover's ears would have known she said “Yes.” And Mr. Ammidon never finds fault when bis wife “cleans house,” because he knows that if it had not been for that abused institution he might be a lonely bachelor in Mrs. Benedict’s establishment.