Life — April 7, 1900 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

298 Exchange, T Easter-tide, I sent my love a basket full of roses. On Easter-day, I met my love; she wore another's posies. I frowned at first, then caught ber eye— Peace in my heart reposes— Another's flowers were on her breast, but in hor chooks—my roses, CR. “The Spook in the Closet.” OROTILY came into the library of our attenuated series of connected closets, described by the agent as an “elegant suite of modern apartments,” sut down hard on the box couch which conceals her best gowns, and said : “Ted, {'m discouraged.” “Why?” Lasked, looking over the top of my paper. “ Bridget is going,” unswered Dorothy, dismally. “Plague take the cooks. She only came Monday,” was all I could say. We had been flat-keeping only a litle over a year, and during all that time bad suffered from a malignantattack of maid. Twenty-one varictics had come with a smile from the intelligence office, and after a brief period of activity in our kitchen (our record was three weeks and four days) had departed with a sulky, uncompromising ‘* Good bye, mum.” Their excuses had ranged from a dead aunt to a desire to visit aged parents in the old country. “Well, what are we going todo?” I asked, after a solemn silence. “T don't know,” sighed Dorothy, roll- ing up a cushion and sticking it under her elbow. ‘Do you think, dear,” I asked cau- tiously, ‘that you manage the maids just right?” “Manage them !” said Dorothy, sitting up straight. ‘I manage them just as Bess Parker manages hers. Idon't man- age them atall. Igetdown on my knees to them. I wade through dust. Lanswer the bell half the time myself. They get their afternoons out und Sunday evening besides, for we always get tea ourselves on the chafing dish. I can't see that it’s any more my fault that we have these lightning changes in the kitchen than it is yours.” “It can't be my fault, I seldom see them,” I argued, and then sceing that Dorothy was hurt, added : WELCOMING THE COMING, SPEED THE PARTING GuEsT. “Its nobody's fault. Its simply downright bard luck. But we must do something to-day. What do you say to my trying to find a maid?” “Go ahead,” said Dorothy, ‘and good luck to you. I'll bave the fun of finding fault with you inside of a week.” The intelligence oftice was closed, but 1 found the manager and got the address of a maid he said was just the sort we wanted. She turned out to be a hardy looking individual, too old, I thought, to have any parents this side of the grave, and her unemotional countenance led me to think that she would not become com- pletely prostrated in the event of a sud- den death among her relations’ offspring. After the preliminary skirmishing had been adjusted, she looked me over from head to foot with one long searching gaze and asked : “Have yez any children?” « No,” Lanswered, “Do yez keep dogs?” “No.” Iwas beginning to get nerv- ous, “Then I'll go,” she announced ab- ruptly. . . * Dorothy met us at the door, and after turning over my find to her I went off to A BAO EGG. “T THOUGHT 1 WAS THROUGH WITR YoU YOR GOOD AND ALL, AND THERE YOU ARE AGAIN THE FIRST THING AFTER LENT.”