Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 June 1889 — BALANCING ACCOUNTS. [ARTICLE]

BALANCING ACCOUNTS.

When Mr. Jenkins went to the city on Saturday morning, his wife accompanied him to do a little shopping. As they were walking to the train, Mr. J., happening to glance down at his coat, uttered a vigorous exclamation, and added: “I thought you promised to sew that loose button on my coat. Now it’s gone, and a fine figure I cut! Don’t 1?” “I’m very sorry, John, but—” “ ‘But’ won’t put it on again. There’s going to be a committee meeting in the office, too, this morning, and I don’t care to look as if I were coming to pieces. I’d like to know what was the use of my leaving it at home, yesterday?” “I had the needle and thread in my hand to do it, John, just as the baby fell down stairs, and that frightened me so that it put everything else out of my mind. I was anxious about her for hoars, you know.” “How she came to get such a fall, is more than I can see. • What’s the use, anyway, of you women staying at home all day, if you can’t keep the children from breaking their necks?” “She was scarcely out of my sight for a moment all day, except just that once, and—”- ;■- . _ “Well, never poind. I suppose you can sew on a button to-night: but I wish you kept a memorandum. What you women ever do with your memories I don’t see. Probably they’re too precious to use.” And Mr. Jenkins relapsed into silence and a perusal of the morning paper. When they were leaving the train Mrs. Jenkins said meekly: “If you are not too busy to-day, John, I wish you would stop at Polisher’s and get my lace pin. I shall need it to wear to the concert to-night. None of my other pins are fit. I’d get it myself, if it wasn’t so far down town.” “There! I’ve thought of that pin a lundred times if I have once; but I never have more than time to catch the last boat as I come past. I’ll get it tonight,” Mr. Jenkins had a hurried and busy day, and felt so warm in consequence that he had to stop on his way to the ferry to drink a glass of soda water. That used up all his spare minutes, and when he passed Polisher’s jewelry store he was walking as if for a wager.

One evening, about the middle of the following week, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins sat in “social silence” on the broad piazza, the former trying to read by the waning light, while his wife was dili"f ff"m u K7nrtTnr little red blank book. Mr. Jenkins laid Ms paper aside for a moment and watched his wife. Finally he said: “I’m glad to see you growing so systematic and economical in your housekeeping. I hope it will tell when the bills come in.”

It's not housekeeping accounts this time, JoUn; though I do try to be regular about those.” “I don’t see what it can be then. Seems to me you have grown very literary lately. I don’t see what it can be. Ji don’t know how often I’ve seen you writing in that book. Suppose you let me have a look at it;” and he reached out his hand. “Not just yet,” said Mrs. Jenkins. “Please wait a little. You may- see it Saturday night; that is. if accounts balance, or if there iB something to my credit Mr. Jenkins looked pnzzled. “So it is an account book, after all. Well, I’d just as soon wait I will audit it for you on Saturday. That is, if the items are not too small and tedious—one cent for glove buttons, three cents for hairpins, five cents for a car fare.” “I don’t think you will find the items tedious,” was the reply, and the matter was dropped. About 10 o’clock Saturday night At occurred to Mr. Jenkins to call lor his wife’s account book. “You said it was not your household account, so I suppose it has to do with private expense,” he remarked. “It is neither,?’ said Mrs. Jenkins. “It is only a memorandum of items I wanted to keep in mind,” “Well, that’s an excellent idea, though I don’t see why it needs balancing.” “Perhaps you will see in a momtnt. It’s an account of what ought to Have been remembered, and not of what is to be; and I’ll read it myßelf.” “Well, you are a queer woman! that’s all I have to say. 1 don’t see the Benae of such a memorandum; but go ahead.” Mrs. Jenkins began to read aloud.

- t *BatUfday-‘-D&bitr Fgfgbt to sew button on Mr. Jenkins’ coat. Credit: Mr. Jenkins forget to bring my pin from Polisher's.” Mr. Jenkins whistled and sat upright. “You are keeping sqmebody’s accounla besides your own, I oßfeerve.” “Certainly, my dear,” said his wife, sweetly. “I couldn’t make things balance otherwise, you know.” He subsided with a resigned air, and Mrs. Jenkins went on: “Forgot to tell Patrick to put away: the lawn mower.” “In consequence of which,” added John, in an audible foot note, “it was out all night in the rain, and became shockingly rusty.”, Tbe account proceeded. “Sunday—J orgot the number of our new pew. Mr. Jenkins forgot nothing.” A look of quiet triumph shone from the arm-chair occupied by paterfamilias. “Mohday—Forgot to have more starch put into the collars and cuffs. Mr. Jenkins forgot to order a barrel of flour. Tuesday—My record clear. Mr. Jenkins forgot to tell Jack that Helen Lovering was spending the day here. Whereby Jack lost a golden opportunity, may end by losiDg Helen herself, and has had a fit of the blues qver since. “Wednesday—Forgot to have chocolate instead of coffee for breakfast. Mr. Jenkins forgot to send the glazier up to mend the pane of glass that baby broke. In consequence of which, the rain came in while we were away from home and ruined the new plush chair. Spoilt lawn-mower canceled.” “I would suggest,” said a voice from the arm-chair, “that we deal with bare items, and dispense with superfluous comments.” ——^ “Thursday—Forgot to keep the scissors out of the baby’s reach. Century much the worse in consequence. “Mr. Jenkins forgot to mail my letter to Harriet, as a result, letting her come up from’ Bound Brook, yesterday, to find the house closed ana family out of town. “Friday—Forgot my umbrella and left it in the cars. Mr. Jenkins forgot, until after dinner, to tell me that aunt Kate was expecting us to dine with her. Consequence, Bhe ale a cold dinner alote after waiting an hour.” “I have once before remarked,” interposed Mr. Jenkins, “that I would be obliged to you for sticking to the account in the book.” “It will help us to make a just balance if we weigh consequences,” replied his wife, placidly. “Have patience; I have nearly finished.” “Saturday—Forgot to see that Bridget put salt into the bread. Consequence, it was insipid, but not the comments made on it.” “Mr. Jenkins forgot to turn off the vfrater in the bathroom this morning.” At this announcement the gentleman in question raised his eyebrows in sudden recollection, and looked slightly apprehensive. “Consequence, the kitchen ceiling fell at 4 o’clock.” “Bill for damages: To Patrick's time spent in clearing way rnbbisk.i | rK) To one meat dish (broken) 75 To one gravy boat (broken) 25 To one glass pitcher (broken). :so To two pipkins (broken) 60 To Sunday’s piece 01 roast beu' buried in mortar 1.25 To doctor’s services to cook's injuries... 2.00 To courtrjilastcr and arnica 25 To estimated cost of replastering kitchen 5.00 Total „ J 10.90 “Don’t look so troubled, my dear,” said Mrs. Jenkins cheerfully; “I would not ’et the children tell you, because I wanted to break it to you gently. Only before you go to bed, please balance tie account for the week.” And she handed him a little red book.