The Argosy, March 1907 — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

PAW: * ee is i / - Al SGA ee Nee nl aba NA 7 sien et “y ‘ ; “ pb dogs Mak ee api, Pee Pe eS V's Si { ND) ae SSR TR URAC A ad : Pee Se : : . : 698 : ~ -* - ' + ia 4 her scattered faculties, ‘they was just going into the drawing-room when they—they heard some one speak very _ sharp up-stairs.”’ Mrs. Scales put her hand on the girl’s shoulder and gave her an impatient shake. “Speak sharp?” she said. did they—what did you hear?” ‘““Well, ma’am,” returned the girl re- luctantly, “‘ we heard a lady’s voice tell Mr. Scales he’d had too much, and to go away.” Mrs. Scales collapsed into a conve- nient chair and covered her face with her hands, while Mr. Scales gave utter- ance to some pretty strong expressions. “What did they say?” Mrs. Scales demanded when she had somewhat re- covered from the shock. ‘“Mrs. Worthington, ma’am,” replied Martha, ‘‘ said to Miss Scadders, ‘ How extremely awkward—poor dear Mrs. Scales—what a trial—no wonder this poor child was frightened,’ and then they opened the front door for them- selves, ma’am, and told me to say they’d call some other day, and went out.” “Oh, George,” wailed Mrs. Scales, when Martha had discreetly retired, after another surreptitious but searching glance at her master. ‘‘ What on earth are we to do? They asked particularly if .we were alone. It will be all over the place. Those two are the worst gossips in the city.” ‘“ This,” said Mr. Scales bitterly, “S this is what comes of your insane weakness for buying ‘useless things. | Anything that looks like a bargain. A refrigerator we couldn’t get into the house without knocking a wall down; a music-box chair which threw your Aunt Ellen into a fit when she sat on it, and nearly cost us a legacy ; a washing machine which ground all my new silk underwear into pulp. And now’”—he threw out his hands with a gesture of despair—‘‘ and now a beastly Poll parrot that doesn’t know enough to keep its mouth shut.” ‘I’m sure you might make allowances for the poor bird,” Mrs. Scales replied with spirit, “ particularly as zt doesn’t know any better. Don’t talk to me, please. Go up-stairs and talk to the parrot.” With an exclamation of anger Mr. “ What THE ARGOSY. Scales stalked moodily back to the study and literally carried out his wife’s instructions. He talked to the parrot without intermission for five minutes, and only checked himself when the bird, with an abstracted air, softly repeated one of his choicest expressions, as if anxious to stamp it indelibly on his memory. IL. AFTER an excellent dinner and one of his best cigars, Mr. Scales recovered his good humor, and was inclined to treat the matter more in the light of a joke. ‘“ Pooh-pooh,” he said, in reply to his wife’s renewed lamentations, ‘‘ nobody believes. what those women say, anyway. I’ll tell you what to do: give a tea, and put the parrot on exhibition. Or better still—his reverence is coming in to-night to talk over the new church wing. We'll tell him the story, and he can put it all over the parish. The joke will be partly on the other side. That’s his ring now. Run down and bring him up while I slip on a decent coat.” The Rev. Ambrose Stoner was an elderly man of ascetic exterior. There was a subdued twinkle in the stern eyes, however, which showed that he was not destitute of a sense of humor, and the severe line of his shaven lips was _re- lieved by a little uptwist at the corners. Mr. Scales, in spite of certain worldly proclivities and a tendency to stay away from church, was a favorite with him, and the real estate man’s shrewd business qualities were of considerable assistance to the clergyman in conducting the sedu- lar affairs of the church. ‘““Here’s Mr. Stoner, George,’ said Mrs. Scales brightly, as she ushered the clergyman into the study. “Come to have a nice long business talk.” ““How are you, Scales?” began Mr. Stoner heartily, peering in front of him in a short-sighted fashion. ‘‘ Where are you? Mrs. Scales had almost to tow me up here—I’ve stupidly left my glasses at home—I expect I’ve run down as many people in getting here as an auto- mobile.” Mr. Scales grasped the outstretched hand of his visitor, and was beginning to express his pleasure at seeing him, when he stopped, horror-stricken. EOmMmIichbooks.co