Rensselaer Union, Volume 6, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 March 1874 — The Light End of a StOve. [ARTICLE]

The Light End of a StOve.

A beadeb who is recently married writes us asking which end of a stove is the lightest. We really wish we knew, but we don’t. A stove is very deceiving, and one has to become well acquainted with a new one to find its points of advantage. Our friend should not be too hasty in taking hold of a stove. A stove that is to be moved should be visited in the still watches of the night before, and carefully examined by the light of a good lamp. The very end we thought the lightest may prove the heaviest (in fact, is extremely likely to) or it maybe that the lightest end is the most difficult to get hold of and hang on to. It is a very distressing undertaking to carry a half ton of stove by your finger-nails, with a cold-blooded man easily holding the Other end, and a nervous woman with a dust-pan in one hand and a broom in the other bringing up the rear and getting the broom between your legs. In going up stairs it is best to be at the lower end of the stove. Going backward up a stair, way with a stove in your hands inquires a 'delicacy of perception which very few people possess, and which can only come after years of conscientious practice. If you are below you have the advantage of missmg much that must be painful to a sensitive nature. The position you are in brings your face pretty close to the top of the stove, and as no one can ■ be expected to see what is going on when thus situated you are relieved from all responsibility and thought in the matter, with nothing to do but to push valiantly ahead and think of Heaven. Then above you i 6 the carman whom you do not see, with his lips two inches apart, his eyes pro trading, and his tongue lolling on his chin. And it is well you don’t see him, for it is an awful sight. But the chief advantage of being below is that, in case of the stove falling, you will be cau&ht beneath it and instantly killed. Nothing short of your death will ever compensate for the scratched paint, soiled carpet and torn oil-cloth. And no man in his senses and with his hearing unimpaired would want to survive the catastrophe.— Danbury treat. “ - , r