Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 April 1875 — A New Use for Clothes-Pins—A Hint to Neglected Housewives. [ARTICLE]

A New Use for Clothes-Pins—A Hint to Neglected Housewives.

Ladies who have husbands who are neglectful in supplying them with kindlings should carefully study the experience of a Division street sister. All her married life she has had an unbroken struggle with her husband to keep herself supplied with wood, and the greater part of the time she has been obliged to depend upon her own deftness with the ax, and anyone who has seen a woman handle an ax knows what a dreadful thing it is. Two months ago she begged of him not to go away without leaving her some kindlings. He said he wouldn’t. But he finally did. Then she hit upon a plan. She had four dozen clothes-pins. She took one dozen of them for starting the fire, and found they worked admirably. The next day she used another dozen, and so she continued until the four dozen were gone. Then she went to the store and purchased another four dozen—having them “ put in the bill.” When they were gone she repeated the errand. She said no more to him about kindlings. For ten years she had kept up the battle, and now she was tired and sick at heart. He could go his own way, and she would go hers—patiently, uncomplainingly—until the end would come. On Monday he signified at the store that he would like to settle his account. The bill w’as made out and handed him. He glanced down the items. As he advanced along the column his face began to work. First his eyes slowly enlarged, then his mouth gradually opened, caused by the drooping of his lower jaw; and wrinkles formed on his forehead. One® third down the column he formed his lips as if to whistle. Four lines below he did whistle. Half way down he said: “Gra-cious!” -- A little further on he said: “Thunder!” Four more lines were taken in, and he spoke again: 2_By the Jumping Jupiter!” Then he read on, smiting his thigh vigorously and given vent to various expressions of the liveliest nature. Finally he threw the bill down. “I say, Benson, look here; this bill can’t be mine; you’ve got me mixed up with some laundry.”'

“ That’s your bill, sir,” said the grocer, smiling pleasantly. ’“w “I tell you it can’t be,” persisted the Division street man, beginning to look scared. “Why, here’s fifty-five dozen clothes-pins in a two months’ bill. What on earth do you take me for—a four-story laundry?” “But it is your bill. Your wife can explain it to you. She ordered the pins.” “My wife,” gasped the unfortunate man. “Yes, sir.” The debtor clutched the bill, jammed it into his pocket and hurried straight home. He bolted into the house without any abatement of speed and, flingingXhe paper on the table before his wife, Knocked his hat on the back of his head, and said: “Martha Ann Johnson, what does this mean! There are fifty-five dozen clothespins in Benson’s bill for the past two months and he says you ordered every blessed one of them.” “ And so I did,” said she, demurely. “W-h-at! Fifty-five dozen clothespins in tw’o months!” and he shot down into a chair as if a freight car had fallen a-top of him. “ Fifty-five dozen clothespins in two months !”Jie howled. “ Will a just heaven stand that?” “ I tell you, you needn’t stare at me that way, Reuben Wheeler Johnson, nor go to calling onto heaven with your impiousness, I ordered them clothes-pins myself, and I have burnt every one of ’em in that there stove, just because you were too all-fired lazy to get a stick of wood. And I declare, before I’ll be bothered jawing and fighting to get you to cut w’ood, I’ll burn up every clothes-pin in the land and you shall pay for them, if you have to sell the shirt on your back to do it. So now!” y And Mrs. Johnson, with a face like scarlet, snatched up the broom and went to sweeping the carpet as if every flake of dust was a red-hot coal, while the unhappy Mr. Johnson hastened to the store and paid the bill. And before dark that night he had a half-cord of wood sawed, split and piled up ready for use. —Banbury News.