Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 January 1915 — A DOMESTIC TREASURE [ARTICLE]

A DOMESTIC TREASURE

By ISABELLA D. DAILEY.

Mrs. Lyman sat at the breakfast table in her 99-cent calico wrapper, which was clean bat unattractive, and limned rather wearily to her adored husband’s conversation. In her youth she had been called a beauty, but 12 years of unselfish pampering of hqr family, together with • constant struggle to “get ahead” upon a limited allowance, had merged her charms into workaday obscurity. She had become nothing more than a housekeeper who was “careful and troubled about many things.” Mr. Lyman did not suspect that he was not a model family man. He had 1 grown accustomed to seeing his wife work ■ from morning until night, keeping their home in immaculate order, making-dainty clothing for the children, and cooking meals to please his fastidious taste.” Oh this particular morning, he. was discussing pretty Mrs. Hickson, the wife of his new partner. s “She is really the most delightful woman I have met ip many-ft day,’ he said, with candid"enthusiasm. “She is so bright and up to date and younglooking; I was surprised to learn that she is the own mother of Hickson’s flf-teen-year-old daughter. I supposed she was a second wife." r “I heard Mrs. Hickson say she had always since her marriage, quietly remarked Mrs. Lyman. Of course she has lots of time to take pains with herself. I guess she doesn't do much but play bridge and flirt.” “That is very ungenerous, Bess, said Lyman reprovingly. “Mrs. Hickson is a lady of exquisite taste, and you should not be scandalized because she is not inclined to be a back number. I don’t wonder that Hickson isproud of her." “I don't think she is as pretty as mamma,” loyally declared little Bert Lyman, whose youthful mind grasped the Inference that his Idolized mother w&8 suffering from indirect criticism. •Mr.»Lyman laughed. “There was a time, son, when your mamma was a daisy in looks, but that was before she settled down and bad twoiexpenslve youngsters to take care of M “And a popular society man,” added Mrs. Lyman, with a shadowy smile. Lyman did not appear to oatch any sarcastic Intonation In his wifes mild observation. w - "Well, I must go downtown, he said, glancing at his watch. “A man can’t linger forever in the bosom of his family. By the way, Bess, I wish you would see that my evening clothes are all right. I*m going to an Elks’ reception tonight. There will be a dance afterward, and that calls for stiff togs.” "Are you going, mamma?” asked Vera, the small daughter of the house of Lyman. "No, dear, I hadn't thought of going anywhere.” Lyman looked up in careless woPder. “Go, of course, if you wißh, Bess. I didn’t think to ask you, because you nevej care for such afi fairs.”

Mrs. Lyman gave her customary answer to her husband’s Indifferent invitation. “I think I should prefer to stay with the children." She did not mention the fact that all her party gowns were several years behind the fashion. "I thought so," said Lyman, accompanying the remark with a light conjugal kiss. “Those muffins were tiptop, and the beefsteak broiled to the queen’s taste. Nobody can beat you, Bess, in the culinary department, even if you don’t Bhine in social functions.” After the children had departed for school, and the morning’s work had been done, with the inefficient aid of the diminutive colored maid-of-all-work, Mrs. Lyman went to her room. Seating herself before her dressingtable, shtf gazed critically at her reflection in the mirror. *‘l am altogether too domestic,” she commented audibly. “1 think I’ll fur- } bish up a little, even if we go without a new parlor carpet and lace curtains in the sitting room.” During the following week, Mrs. Lyman went oil several secret pilgrimages downtown, and heroically practiced mysterious exercises In the seclusion of fcer roqjn. When Mr. Lyman announced his intention of taking a trip to Chicago on business which might detain him a few days, he did not notice that his wife packed his suitcase with unusual cheerfulness nor did he think it strange that she made t him promise to Fire her when to expect him backChance sometimes assists plotters, and Mrs. Lyman's plans to amaze her liege lord were aided, beyond her expectations, by his accidentally, meeting. on his way home, a traveling man who was an old acquaintance. They crowded as many reminiscences and Jokes as possible into the two hogrs they spent together on the train, but stm their fund of anecdotes was not exhausted. “As you are going to make my town,” said Lyman, “why can't you put up at my house? I can premise you a good, dinner, and tonight I'll take you to the club, and show you a Jolly bunch of boys.”' “I wouldn't like to drop into ybur family circle inopportunely,” objected the friend politely, really yearning fbr a home’ tnesl; — •■ v: “Ob, that’s all right,” said Lyman reassuringly. “My wife Is the good sort, and BOM everybody welcome. She

ii ji -u' i -r - -IT jipn. v*/ j will treat youto cooking that will malt in your mouth, though she may re-_ ceive you in a calico dress, Just as she comes from a kitchen. Sometimes I wish she bad a little mere styles but she is a domestic treasure I'll bet Bhe can make a dollar go farther than any other woman of the present generation." T 'When the train pulled into the station, the two gentlemen hurried out a poo the long platform, chatting Jovially. Suddenly Lyman caught a glimps of a trim, graceful woman, in a modish tailor-made black suit, with her blonde hair fetehingiy marcelled beneath a heavily plumed hat. “There is a swell woman,” exclaimed Lyman. “I can’t fancy her, in a calico wrapper.” The lady under inspection turned her heed in a way that gave Lyman a full view of her face. Instantly his eyes bulged with astonishment. “She looks as Bess usejl to,” he mattered faintly. “It can’t be possible. It is, by Jove.” Mrs. Lyman’s perfect costume inspired her with self-confidence, and nothing could, have been prettier than her manner of greeting her puzzled spouse. “Why, Bess, I—l’m surprised,” he stammered, fairly limp from bewilderment. “You act as though you had encountered a ghost,” was the laughing retort. Lyman collected his wits sufficiently to introduce his friend, who pinched him on the -sly and whispered; “You’re a rare humbug. Home body! Calico, wrappers! Good Lord! Tell that to some other scout/’ Lyman had hardy recovered his composure when they reached home. Mrs. Lyman led the trio, and was cordial In seconding her husband’s hospitality,remarking Ingeniously: “I am afraid you will find things rather muddled. I have been out all the afternoon, and’left the children playingcircus.’’ Lyman scarcely recognized his home, in which disorder reigned for the first time, and he was almost speechless with mortification and disappointment when they sat down to a dinner of tough fried Bteak, lumpy mashed potatoes and soggy bread, supplemented by a thin lemon pie from & bakeshop. The mystified husband felt that he must be dreaming. Mrs. Lyman seemed sweetly unconcerned, and In no way disturbed by the unappetizin. repast, or by the blundering service of her awkward maid. had her conversation been so engaging. The visitor thought his host had developed into a bad practical joker, and wondered If he wonld he able to get a satisfactory lunch at the club. Lyman finally began to get angry. After the wretched meal was finished, but not eaten, he contrived to draw his wife aside, and whispered; •“What under heaven do you mean, Bess, ip getting up such a dinner —for company, too!” “I didn’t get the dinner,” said Bess innocently. “I ' should say not,” grumbled Lyman; “but why didn’t you?” “For two reasons/* replied Mrs. Lyman, not a whit abadhed. “I am tired of being merely a queen of the culinary art, and I am going to try to be as young and agreeable as Mrs. Hlckson. It would he great fun to be taken for your second wife. “I have decided that it doesn’t pay to spend so much of my allowance upon the table. It shows more in up-to-date clothes. “Hereaftef I shall be ready to attend parties with you. Of course, you will not mind a few extra bills. I know you must have often been ashamed of me—l have been such a frump—but it is never too late to mend.”