Jasper County Democrat, Volume 12, Number 28, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 July 1909 — HOW PERCY HELPED. [ARTICLE]

HOW PERCY HELPED.

I was at work. We had been furnishing, my wife and I. We thought we had done it cheaply, but a few charming things in the bric-a-brac line, added at the last moment, had so overbalanced our account that I felt it imperative to make up a better check than usual that week on the dally paper upon which I earned my bread. But my wife had been hard at work too. She had been to Paul Jones’ sale—it was “remnant day”—and she had got a few little things which dear baby absolutely had to have, besides a few more quite Indispensable trifles for herself, all of them "dirt cheap.’’ She had been forced to confess, however, that the week’s housekeeping money had been severely encroached upon, and 1 am afraid I was not enthusiastic over the Jones sale. Instead of chasing the passing cloud from her sweet eyes, as I knew how to do, I had even heaved a sigh of relief as the door slammed after her. So I was hard at work and within sight of the end at last when a voice on the stairs, shouting “I know my way,” made me swear a gentle oath under my breath before the door onened and one Percy Falmouth stood bVore me.

He was a college friend, one of those who always prevent one from working, but to whom one is never able to say nay. His face, that was wont to be fresh, was sallow and gray, and his eye, that was always merry, was dull and downcast. “What’s the matter, old man?” said I. “You’re down on your luck.” It took him some time to bring the trouble out, even to me, but at last he maaaged It. He was in love. “Is that all?” cried I cheerily. “Weil,, don’t be alarmed. I assure you when you have got over the beginning it isn’t bad at all.” “It isn’t that,” said my friend gloomily after a pause. “Isn’t what?” I asked. “It isn’t that I mind being In love,” he explained, “but how am 1 to keep a wife?"

My chair spun round again of itself. “You!" I cried almost fiercely. "Why. haven’t you got $2,500 a year of your own?” And a vision of the weekly books and the monthly bills swam before my eyes and made me run my fingers wildly through my hair. “You are a nice one to talk!” Percy smiled sarcastically. “Two thousand five hundred dollars!" echoed he. “Why, it wouldn't keep her in silk petticoats!” I looked grave instantly. “And it wouldn’t keep any woman.” said my friend, rising and throwing his cigarette away as he warmed to his subject. “And one wouldn’t wish that it should. What man cares to see his wife looking a frump and dowdier than other women? And it isn't only the clothes; it’s the house and the furniture and the servants and everything. Dinginess is out of date." 1 sighed. “If I were to marry on $2,500 a year,” continued Percy emphatically, “I should be in debt in two months and my wife and I would have quarreled forever.” Why didn’t I smile? I had been married more than two years, and, though I had certainly been in debt most of the time, my wife and I had not quarreled yet. But a vision of a pouting mouth and tear dimmed blue eyes rose uncomfortably before me. Instead of smiling It was I now w ho sighed. Perhaps my wife had not brought home small, soft parcels enough from Jones' sale, instead of, as 1 1 had meanly supposed that morning, too many. “But a man can work,” said I as bravely as I could. “Work!” echoed Percy bitterly. “That’s all very well if you’ve got brains. I have no qualifications for earning money, and love in a cottage isn’t good enough nowadays.” Somehow this speech restored me to my balance. He smoked another cigarette, and then be took up his hat, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s a devil of a mess for a fellow to be in.” he said gloomily. ‘Yes,” said I, “I’m afraid you’ll have to find a wife who can work on her own account There are a good many of them about nowadays.” He looked at me doubtfully. “Oh, I hate that sort!” he said. “A girl with money’s better, but that won’t help me just now.” “So I supposed,” said I. And I let him out. 1 had sworn at his entrance, but he had brought me luck. The words literally flew from my pen when I sat down again. There was something spurring me on. There was a goal In sight that I knew of. And when I had put my name to the last sheet and was free I sought it. Upstairs in the nursery my wife sat beside the cradle. She had our child in her arms and was lulling him to sleep. Her eyes shone as she looked up at me; her face was fresh, and she was as dainty as any man could wish In a plain white frock—ready to welcome me to dinner after my work. As I bent down' to kiss her I said gayly, “I've made up a splendid week, darling, so you needn’t worry about the purchases.” And she laughed, saying: “There 'were not so .many after all, you know; only a few dollars’ worth. But 1 shouldn’t have interrupted you while you were making them.” And then we went together to the dainty meal of her frugal ordering, and I was sorry that I bad not been able to explain to Percy what It was that made It “good enough.”