Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 February 1882 — TWO DOZEN BUTTONS. [ARTICLE]

TWO DOZEN BUTTONS.

Betty'sighed. Now, why she should have sighed at this particular moment no one on earth could tell. And it was all the more exasperating because John had just generously put into her little, shapely hand a brano-newslo bill. And here began the trouble. “What’s the matter?” he said, his face falling at the faint sound, and his mouth clapping together in what those who knew him but little called an “obstinate pucker.” “Now, what is it?” Betty, who had just began to change the sigh into a merry little laugh ripnling all over the corners oi the red lips, stopped suddenly, tossed her head and, with a small jerk noway conciliating, sent out the words: “You ueedn’tj insinuate, John, that I am always troublesome!” “I didn’t insinuate—who’s talking of insinuating?”cried, John thoroughly incensed at the very idea, and backing away a few steps, he glared down from his tremenduous height in extreme irritation. “It’s yourself that’s # orever insinuating and all that, and then for you to put it on to me—it’s really abominable.” The voice was harsh, and the eyes that looked down into tier’s were not pleasant to behold. “And if you think, John Peabody, that I’ll stand and have such things said to me,you miss your guess—that’s all!”,cried Betty, with two big red coming in her cheeks, as she tried to draw her little erect figure up to its utmost dimensions. “Fofever insinuating! I guess you wouldn’t have said that before I married you v Oh, now you can, of course!” “Didn’t you say it first, I’d like to know?” cried John, in great excitement, drawing nearer to the small creature he called “wife,” who was gazing at him with blazing eyes of indignation; “I can’t endure everything!” “And if you bear more than I do,” cried Betty, wholly beyond control now, “why, tt\pu I’ll give un,” and she gave a bitter little laugh and tossed her head again. \ And here they were in the midst of a quarrel! These two who, but a year before, had promised to love and protect and help each other through life! “Now,” said John, and he brought his hand down with such a bang on the table before him that Betty nearly Skipped out of her little shoes—only she controlled the start, for she would have died before she’d let John see it—“we’ll have no more of this nonsense!” His face was very pale, and the lines around the mouth so drawn that it would have gone to anyone’s heart to have seen their expression. “I don’t know how you will change it, or help it,” said Betty, lightly, to conceal her dismay at the turn affairs had taken, “I’mlsure!” and ste pushed back the light; waving hair from her forehead with a saucy, indifferent gesture. That hair that John always smoothed when he petted her when tired or disheatened, and called her “child.” Her gesture struck to his heart as he glanced at her suuny locks and the cool, indifferent face underneath, and before he knew it he was saying—- “ There is no he help for it now, I suppose.” Oh, yes, there is,” said Betty, still in the cool, calm way that ought not to have deceived him. But men know so little of women’s hearts, although they may live with them for years in closest friendship. “You needn’t try to endure it, John Peabody, if you don’t want to. I’m sure I don’t care!” “What do you mean?” Her husband grasped her arms and compelled the merry brown eyes to look up to him. “I can go back to mother’s,” said Betty provokingly. “She wants me any day, and then you can live quitely and live to suit yourself, and it will be better all around.” Instead of bringing out a violent protestation of fond affection and remorse, which she fully expected, John drew himself up, looked fixedly for a long, long minute, then dropped her arm, and said through white lips very slowly: “Yes, it may be as you say, better all around. You know best: and was . gone from the room before she could recover from her astonishment enough to uttter a sound. With a wild cry Betty rushed across thd room, first tossing the $lO bill savagely as far she could throw it, and. flinging herself on the comfartable old sofa, broke into a flood of bitter tears —the first she had shed during her married life. “How could he have done it? Oh, What have I said? Oh, John, John!” The bird twittered in his little cage

over in the window among the plants. Hetty remembered like a flash how John and she filled the seed-cup that very morning, how he laughed when she tried to put it*in between the bars, aid when she couldn’t reach without getting upon a Chair, he took her in nis great arins, and held her up, just like a child, that she might fix it to suit herself. And the “bits” that he said in his tender way, they had gone done down to the depths other foolish Tittle heart, sending her about her work singing for very gladness of spirit. And now! Betty stuffed her Angers her into her rosy ears to shut out the bird’s chirping , “If he kneiv why I sighed.” she moaned. “Oh, my husband! Birthdays—nothing will make any difference now. Oh, why can’t I die?” How long she stayed there, crouched down on the old sofa, she never knew. Over and over the dreadful scene she went, realizing its worst features each time in despair, until a voice out in the kitchen said, “Betty!” and heavy footsteps proclaimed that some one was on the point of breaking upon her uninvited. Bstty sprang up, choked back her sobs, and tried with all her might to compose herself and remove all traces of her trouble. The visitor was the worst posible one she could have under the circumstances Crowding herself on terms of the closet intimacy with the pretty bride, who, with her husband, had moved into the village a twelvemonth previous, Miss Elvira Simmons had made the very most of her opportunities, and by diut of making great parade over helping her in some domestic work, such as house-cleaning, dressmaking and the like, the maiden lady had man agedjto supply her other vocation, that of news-gatherer, at one and the same time, pretty effectually. She always called her by her first name, though Betty resented it; and she made a great handle of her friendship on every occasiou, making John rage violently and vow a thousand times the “old maid” should walk! But she never had—aud now, scenting dimly, like a carrion after its own prey, that trouble might come to the pretty little white house, the makemischief had come to do her work, in devastation had really commenced. “Been crying!” she said, more plainly than politely, and sinking down into the pretty chintz-covered rocking chair with an energy that showed she ueaut to stay,aud made the chair creak fearfully. “Ouly folks do say that you and your husband don’t live happy—but la! I wouldn’t mind—l know’ ’tain’t your fault.” Betty’s heart stood still. Had it come to this! John aud she not live happy! To be sure they didn’t, as she remembered with a pang the dreadful scene of words and hot tempers; but has it gotten around so soon—a story in everybody’s mouth. i With all her distress of mind she was saved from opening her mouth. So Miss Simmons, failing in that, was forced to go on. ‘An’ I tell folks, so,” she said, rocking her self back aud forth to witness the effect of her words; “when they git to takm’, so you can’t blame me if things don’t go easy for you, I’m sure?” “YoiL-tell folks?” repeated Betty, vaguely, and standing quite still. “What? I don’t understand.”

“Why,that the blame was all his’u,” cried the old maid, exasperated at her strange mood and her dullness, “I say, says I, why they couldn’t no one live with him, let alone that pretty wife he’s got. That’s what I say, Betty,*' And then I tell ’em what a queer man he is, how cross, an’—” “And you dare to tell people such things of my husband?” cried Betty, drawing herself up to her extremest height, and towering so over the old woman in the chair that that she jumped into confusion at the storm she had raised, and stared blindly into the blazing eyes and face rosy with righteous indignation her only thought was how to get away from the storm she bad raised, but could not stop. But she was forced to stay, frr Betty stood just in front of the chaii, and blocked up the way, so she slunk back into the smallest corner of it and took it as best she could. “My hus> band!” cried Betty, dwelling with pride on the pronoun—at least, if they were to part she would say ic over loviugly as much as she could till the last moment; and then, when the time did come, why people should know that it wasn’t John’s fault—“the best, the kindest, the uoblest husband that ever was given to a woman. I've made him more trouble than you can guess; my hot temper has vexed him—l’ve been cross, impatient and—” “Hold!” cried a voice, “you’re talking against my wife!” and in a moment big John Peabody rushed through the door, grasped the little woman in his arms, and folded her to his heart, right before old maid and all! • “Oh,” said Miss Simmons, sitting up straight and setting her spectacles more firmly. “And, now that you’ve learned all that you cau,” said John, turning round to her, still holdiug Betty,“why —you may go!” The chair was vacant. A dissolving view through the door was all that was to be seen of the gossip, who started up the road hurriedly, leaving peace behind. “Betty, said John, some half hour afterward, “what was the sigh I don’t care now, but I did think, dear, and it cut me to the heart, how you might have married richer. I Ibuged to put ten times ten into your hand, Betty, and it galled me because I could not.” Betty smile andd twisted away from his grasp. Running into the bedroom, she presently returned, still smiling, with a bundle roiled up in a clean towel. This she put on her husband’s knee, who stared at her wonderingly. “I didn’t mean,” she said,unpinning the bundle, “to let it out now, but I

shall have to. Why, John, day after to-morrow is your birthday!” j- “So’tie!” said John. “Gracious! has it come round so soon?” “And, you dear boy,” said shaking out .before his eyes a Jretty brown afiair, all edged with Silk ofthe bluest shade, that presently, assumed the proportions of a dressing-gown-«-“this is to be your present. But you must be dreadfully surprised. John, when you get it, for oh, 1 didn’t want you to know!” John made an answer he thought best. When he spoke he said, perplexed, while a small pucker of bewilderment settled between his eyes: “But I don’t see, Betty, what this thing,” laying one finger on the gown, “had to do with the sigh.” “That,” said Betty, and then she broke into a merry laugh that got so mixed up with the dimples and the dancing brown eyes that for moment she could not finish; ‘Oh, John, I was worrying so over those buttons! They weren’t good, but they were the best I could do, then. And I’d only bought ’em yesterday. Two whole dozen. And when you put that $lO bill in my hand I didn’t hardly know it, but I suppose I did give one little bit of a sigh, for I was-sojiroyoked that I hadn’t waited buying’ them till today.” John caught up the little woman, dressing-gown aud all. I don’t think they have ever quarreled since—at least I have never heard of it.