"Quad's odds"; . art for J. Browm, but when a dozenhearts are sighing to love you and be loved in return, anda dozen men are waiting for the privilege of buying yourmeat and corsets and bustles and potatoes and ruffs andsaleratus and silk dresses and corned beef, you cant gopegging around with that solemn look on your face. It does seem so, come to think of it, she mused. Of course it does ! Go home, madam—go home andlook cheerful and feel jolly, and some one will soon seekyou out. She smiled blandly and sweetly as I held the door open,and as she reached the gate she remarked: Of course—you—yo
"Quad's odds"; . art for J. Browm, but when a dozenhearts are sighing to love you and be loved in return, anda dozen men are waiting for the privilege of buying yourmeat and corsets and bustles and potatoes and ruffs andsaleratus and silk dresses and corned beef, you cant gopegging around with that solemn look on your face. It does seem so, come to think of it, she mused. Of course it does ! Go home, madam—go home andlook cheerful and feel jolly, and some one will soon seekyou out. She smiled blandly and sweetly as I held the door open,and as she reached the gate she remarked: Of course—you—you wont 330 NOT BY A JUGFUL. Not a word, madam—Id be torn to pieces—quarteredalive first! She shook her finger at me and cantered gayly downthe street. It isnt likely that she will ever marry again. The mel-ancholy pleasure of standing beside a lost husbands graveand being able to say that he has the most stylish-lookingheadstone in the cemetery cannot be offset by the joys andpleasures of domestic MRS. BRIGGS, MARTYR. 17 DONT expect to see another sunrise—not another one ! I have heard Mrs. Briggs make use of the above expres-sion a hundred times or more, and she isnt dead yet. Onthe contrary, she is hale and hearty, and likely to live formany years to come. Mrs. Briggs lives next door, and we couldnt keep housewithout her. She is fat and Briggs is lean. She is amartyr and he is a philosopher. They have no children,and if she didnt consider herself an abused person theirdomestic life would roll on as smoothly as a log sailingdown a canal. She came into the house the other day, dropped into achair with an awful bang, and sobbed out: Why do I live—oh! why! If you only knew—if yOU ! And here her voice left her, and she jammed her aproninto her eyes, weaved her body to and fro, and a painfulpause ensued. Here Im working myself down to a shadder! shefinally went on, while Briggs doesnt seem to carewhether we have a home of our own or go to the poor-house ! We
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Keywords: ., bookauthorquadm184, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1875
