(7
 
 What ' 
 happened 
 
 to 
 Wigglesworth
 
 What 
 h appened 
 
 to 
 Wiggle sworth 
 
 byW. O. Fuller 
 
 Illustrated by 
 E. D. Allen 
 
 Publishers Henry A . 
 Dickerman & Son 'Boston 
 1901
 
 THESE sketches in their original form, first appeared in the 
 New York World, New York Recorder and Boston Globe, 
 but as here printed they have undergone extensive re- 
 vision. The author and publishers are pleased to acknowledge 
 the courtesy of the editors in permitting their publication in 
 book form. 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 Copyright, 1901 
 By Henry A. Dickerman & Son 
 
 All rights reserved, also the lefts unless they can be dis- 
 posed of. 
 
 Permission is given to graduates of colleges of oratory 
 who may wish to speak these pieces, with appropriate gestures, 
 at church sociables and other public resorts. 
 
 Playwrights desiring to adapt them for the stage should 
 address the author, enclosing stamp.
 
 To the ivtse woman <who 
 kno<weth her o e wn husband 
 
 2135S09
 
 Preface 
 
 WHEN Mr. Wigglesworth was enjoying 
 his newspaper notoriety, a great num- 
 ber of discerning women, representing 
 every part of our country, were singu- 
 larly cordial in their bearing toward that gentleman. 
 
 " How extraordinary," they would write, " that, 
 never having met my husband, you yet could photo- 
 graph him with such absolute fidelity. It would 
 seem that you must have known him from a boy." 
 
 If still other women shall contrive to mark these 
 chapters and leave them open on the sitting-room 
 table ; if thereby the husbands of our land shall have 
 their natures softened, and, bursting into tears, re- 
 solve to lead a better life ; if families thus benefited 
 will only recommend the cure to others, so that in 
 every home where the English language is tortured a 
 copy of this book eventually shall come to be em- 
 ployed ; I may feel that its preparation has been not 
 altogether in vain. 
 
 W. O. F.
 
 A Soft Word 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN once said, "God 
 must love plain people, because he made 
 so many of them." Then humor must 
 be heaven born, because it glorifies the 
 commonplace. It does not deal in heroics ; it is not 
 given to the use of blank verse in ordinary conversa- 
 tion ; it does not wrap itself in any grand and gloomy 
 peculiarity to moralize over unutterable and unattain- 
 able things. It has little to do with kings and heroes, 
 and other sublime persons who sit on thrones and 
 stand on pedestals. But it walks in the streets where 
 people come and go ; it touches elbows with the 
 crowd ; it is at home in the drawing-room ; it is at 
 ease in the office, in the work-shop and the kitchen. 
 It has love for " whatsoever things are lovely," pity 
 for human sorrow, smart contempt for arrogance and 
 pretence, and hatred for shams of whatever sort. 
 
 Mr. Fuller's humor has no need of the finger post 
 of an introduction. His manner bears no stamp save 
 that of his own personality. His characters introduce 
 themselves as old friends, who try to surprise us by 
 thinly disguised voices, by the change of a beard, or 
 the innocent assumption of ignorance of our identity. 
 The years, and^the beard, and the " you-have-the ad- 
 vantage-of-me " cannot hide the sparkle of friendship 
 in the eyes, and the masquerade under an assumed 
 
 10
 
 A Soft Word 
 
 name or expression merely emphasizes the identity 
 and intensifies the joy of recognition. The people 
 concerning whom Mr. Fuller writes in these chronicles, 
 he would have us believe dwell in Maine. But I know 
 them in Illinois ; you have them in New York ; they 
 are your neighbors in California. We recognize them 
 as old friends. Some busy years have separated us ; 
 a multitude of cares have swarmed into our lives and 
 driven them out of our thought, and grateful are v 
 that this apostle of humor suddenly turns the lini> 
 light of his humor upon the stage of this old work- 
 day world of ours, revealing the little group of actors 
 to our gaze, saying, " Did you ever see these people 
 before ? " And our ready, happy looks of glad and 
 instant recognition contradict our " No we never did " 
 that goes with the extended hand of welcome greet- 
 ing. Into his book, Mr. Fuller has put the laughter 
 of our own lives. Our highest and most grateful 
 appreciation of what he has done, will be to take the 
 laughter of his book into our own hearts. 
 

 
 Where it all happened 
 
 A certified copy from the records of the town clerk 
 of Wigglesworth' s native burgh in Knox county.
 
 A Guide to the Happenings 
 
 HCHV Wiggles e worth 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter 
 
 Page 
 
 Put on the Screen Door 
 
 I 
 
 21 
 
 Played an April Fool Joke 
 
 II 
 
 29 
 
 Beat the Carpet 
 
 III 
 
 37 
 
 Gave a Surprise Party 
 
 IV 
 
 47 
 
 Hung the Wall Paper 
 
 V 
 
 55 
 
 Ran Through 
 
 VI 
 
 65 
 
 Drove Some Neat Bargains 
 
 VII 
 
 75 
 
 Took off the Outside Windows 
 
 VIII 
 
 83 
 
 Rode Horseback 
 
 IX 
 
 93 
 
 Played Croquet 
 
 X 
 
 IOI 
 
 Celebrated The Fourth 
 
 XI 
 
 109 
 
 Went Sailing 
 
 XII 
 
 119 
 
 Mowed the Lawn 
 
 XIII 
 
 127 
 
 Rode a Bicycle 
 
 XIV 
 
 139 
 
 Caught the Burglar 
 
 XV 
 
 i45 
 
 Showed them Secrets of Haying 
 
 XVI 
 
 153 
 
 Enjoyed the Eclipse 
 
 XVII 
 
 163 
 
 Set up the Stove 
 
 XVIII 
 
 171 
 
 Revived His Shooting 
 
 XIX 
 
 179
 
 A Guide to the 
 
 Happenings 
 
 
 Kept a Horse 
 
 Chapter 
 
 XX 
 
 Page 
 
 189 
 
 Cared for Wetherbee's Oleander XXI 
 
 199 
 
 Studied Art 
 
 XXII 
 
 207 
 
 Helped His Wife Receive 
 
 XXIII 
 
 215 
 
 Learned to Solder 
 
 XXIV 
 
 223 
 
 Endured Sickness 
 
 XXV 
 
 231 
 
 Kept Thanksgiving Day 
 
 XXVI 
 
 241 
 
 Shoveled Off 
 
 XXVII 
 
 249 
 
 Oiled the Hinges 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 257 
 
 Got Ready for Christmas 
 
 XXIX 
 
 265 
 
 Played Santa Claus 
 
 XXX 
 
 273 
 
 Swore Off 
 
 XXXI 
 
 283 
 
 Went into Society 
 
 XXXII 
 
 291 
 
 Caught the Train 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 301 
 
 Operated the Ladder 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 309 
 
 Skated 
 
 XXXV 
 
 317 
 
 Settled Woman's Suffrage 
 
 XXXVI 
 
 327 
 
 Renewed His Boyhood 
 
 XXXVII 
 
 339 
 
 Got a Valentine 
 
 XXXVIII 
 
 347 
 
 Went to the Fire 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 355 
 
 Made Butter 
 
 XL 
 
 363
 
 A Few Snap Shots 
 
 Frontispiece 
 The Hon. Kllery W. Wigglesworth. (Latest Photo by Allen.) 
 
 A little further on 
 Map showing where it all happened. 
 
 Chapter l 
 
 " Giving utterance to a blood curdling laugh. Mr. Wigglesworth 
 and the screen door seemed to launch themselves simultaneously into 
 the air. " Page 20. 
 
 Chapter 2 
 " And the hired girl bothered us a good deal. " Page 28. 
 
 Chapter 3 
 
 "While his wife fell forward with terrible vigor, and was enabled to 
 smite her husband six or seven times in rapid succession. " Page 36. 
 
 Chapter 4 
 
 "But it was some moments before Mr. Wetherbee and the minister 
 could get the man with the red whiskers and Mr. Wigglesworth sep- 
 arated." Page 46. 
 
 Chapter 5 
 
 "The paper letting go its hold and transferring its affections to the 
 falling fortunes of the house of Wigglesworth. " Page 54. 
 
 Chapter 6 
 
 " With a mighty up-gathering of strength Mr. Wigglesworth started 
 forward. " Page 64. 
 
 Chapter 7 
 
 " The first zip of water caught the fat man in the neck. " Page 74. 
 
 Chapter 8 
 
 "She dashed after the barrel and falling upon it with a hysterical 
 cry rolled completely over it. " Page 82. 
 
 Chapter 9 
 
 " At every third bound of the horse, a bound shorter and more 
 skippy than the other two, the rider would go into the air. " Page 92. 
 
 Chapter 10 
 
 "At every blow, struck with terrific violence, a wire wicket would 
 go sailing through the air. " Page 100. 
 
 Chapter 11 
 
 " Me and the Dodley twins used to stay out all night firing guns and 
 making more noise than a horse could haul. " Page 108. 
 
 Chapter 12 
 "'O-o-h-h, EHery, ' she moaned. " Page 118. 
 
 15
 
 A Few Snap Shots 
 
 Chapter 13 
 
 " ' Get out of the way, then, ' snapped Mr. Wigglesworth. " Page 
 123. 
 
 Chapter 14 
 " ' Hold her up there ! ' he cried. " Pace 136. 
 
 Chapter 15 
 " ' See anything, ' he whispered. " Page 143. 
 
 Chapter 16 
 
 " ' Ketch hold of her, screamed Mr. Wigglesworth, sawing wildly 
 at the reins. " Page 152. 
 
 Chapter 17 
 
 " ' Oh, yes. ' cried Mr. Wigglesworth, glaring across the table, ' that's 
 it.'" Page 162. 
 
 Chapter 18 
 
 "'Where's that hired girl?' snarled Mr. Wigglesworth, pausing to 
 wipe his face. " Page 170. 
 
 Chapter 19 
 
 " ' Sh ! ' hissed Mr. Wigglesworth, with an angry whisper, * can't ye 
 keep quiet? He's on a point. ' " Page 178. 
 
 Chapter 20 
 
 "' O, EHery, ' she screamed with a woman's presence of mind, ' come 
 away instantly. ' " Page 188. 
 
 Chapter 21 
 
 "Therefore they knew that the weight of the oleander had tem- 
 porarily unhinged his reason. " Page 198. 
 
 Chapter 22 
 " 'Is is that oatmeal? ' he slowly inquired. " Page 206. 
 
 Chapter 23 
 
 " ' Want to keep me here grinding this old crank until Christmas, 
 don't ye?" ' Page 214. 
 
 Chapter 24 
 
 "At that instant Imogene suddenly opened the door with a snap that 
 was imparted to the vertebrae of Mr. Wigglesworth. " Page 222. 
 
 Chapter 25 
 
 "'Going to let me perish herein the dark?' he snapped; ' where's 
 that fat-headed doctor ? '" Page 230. 
 
 Chapter 26 
 "Then he grabbed it in his teeth Roscoe did, you understand. " 
 
 Page 240. 
 
 Chapter 27 
 "Petrified, the minister stood on the walk. " Page 248. 
 
 Chapter 28 
 
 "But he was bothered at the office all through the afternoon." 
 Page 256. 
 
 Chapter 29 
 
 "'Why, EHery!' she call"d, 'what have you got there?'" Page 
 264. 
 
 16
 
 A Few Snap Shots 
 
 Chapter 30 
 
 "'What'd I tell ye?' he snapped, calling 1 attention to his trussed 
 legs; ' ain't I a dandy Santa Claus ?'" Page 272. 
 
 Chapter 31 
 "'It's something broke out of somewhere.' " Page 283. 
 
 Chapter 32 
 " ' Mind the lamp ! ' warned the host." Page 290. 
 
 Chapter 33 
 
 " Emma ! ' he shouted rushing to the head of the stairs, where'o 
 them shirt studs ? ' "Page 300. 
 
 Chapter 34 
 
 ' Mrs. Wigglesworth, with a loud shriek, disappeared from view 
 into the neighboring premises. " Page 308. 
 
 Chapter 35 
 
 " ' I'm going to show ye how me and Aleck Dodley used to do a spread 
 eagle. '" Page 316. 
 
 Chapter 36 
 
 "The marshal will conduct him as our welcome guest to a seat. " 
 Page 326. 
 
 Chapter 37 
 " It was a snowball with a marble heart. " Page 338. 
 
 Chapter 38 
 
 " ' Yah-yah-yah ! ' snarled Mr. Wigglesworth as he slammed the 
 front door. " Page 346. 
 
 Chapter 39 
 
 "'Where's the fire?' ejaculated Mr. Wigglesworth, puffing vio- 
 lently." '"Wot fire's this? 1 the policeman calmly made reply." 
 
 Page" 354. 
 
 Chapter 40 
 
 " Alexander, the cat, got up in a chair and watched Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth as he poured the milk into the churn. " Page 362.
 
 Chapter I 
 
 How Wiggle&worth 
 Put on the 
 Screen Door
 
 "Giving utterance to a blood-curdling laugh Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth and the screen door appeared to launch themselves into 
 the air simultaneously." Page 25.
 
 What happened 
 to Wigglesworth 
 
 CHAPTER I. How Wigglesworth Put on 
 the Screen Door 
 
 H, dear ! " sighed Mrs. Wigglesworth, " I 
 do wish you'd put on the screen door, 
 Ellery. The flies are just getting into 
 the house awfully." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth puffed contentedly at his noon- 
 day cigar, while his wife continued to cavort about 
 the hall, frenziedly directing the attention of a scared 
 fly toward the front door with her apron. 
 
 " Do you hear, Ellery ? " she called, aiming a des- 
 perate blow with the apron and knocking a portrait of 
 Henry Clay into an italic position. The fly smiled. 
 
 " Ellery ! " she called again, " do you hear ? " 
 
 "Think I'm deef?" retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 with a tinge of sarcasm; "reckon I'm the stone 
 sphinx of Rameses III., don't ye?" 
 
 "You don't answer me," pouted Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, waiting for the fly to alight. " I asked when 
 you were going to put on the screen door ? " 
 
 "Where is it ? " asked her husband abruptly. 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know," returned Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, appearing in the door and leaving the fly tc 
 chuckle over his triumph.
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Wigglesworth testily, "how ye 
 think I'm going to put on a screen door unless ye 
 prance it out where a feller can get at it ? " 
 
 "You took it off, the .first of the winter," replied 
 his wife; "don't you remember, Ellery, how late it 
 got, with snow on the ground, and the neighbors 
 laughing at you and saying you always leave it on 
 after the snow flies he-he-he 1 " 
 
 "He-he-he!" sneered Mr. Wigglesworth angrily; 
 " you think you 're mighty smart, don't ye, repeating 
 somebody's old, stale chestnuts." 
 
 " I thought it a pretty good joke on you," said Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth ; " it was such a good pun, you know." 
 
 " Oh, yes, it was a great pun," snorted Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth, his face taking on a purple cast ; " must 
 have been great for Mrs. Wigglesworth to see it 
 must have loomed up like a stone church." 
 
 " I think I can see a joke as quick as most people," 
 said that lady, with a show of spirit. 
 
 " Course you can," sniffed her husband ; " you can 
 see 'em quicker than the man that gets 'em up. Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, the long-expected American Humorist, 
 author of Wigglesworth's Annual Almanac and other 
 well-known works of humor. Now is the time to sub- 
 scribe. That 's what you are." 
 
 Enveloping himself in this cloud of persiflage Mr. 
 Wigglesworth disappeared in it up the front stairs, 
 while his wife proceeded to worry the fly from the 
 parlor curtains, behind which covert he had disap- 
 peared in company with a mocking laugh. 
 
 22
 
 Put on the Screen Door 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth snatched his way through the 
 attic in a hurried manner that left a disordered array 
 of trunks and feather beds and antique clothing in his 
 wake. Somebody must have broken into the house 
 in the night and nailed down every window, so that 
 the sun, smiting ambitiously at the shingles on the 
 roof, diffused a mellow warmth through the attic, 
 glueing Mr. Wigglesworth's garments to every avail- 
 able portion of that gentleman's anatomy and creating 
 a storm center that seemed likely to be heard from 
 directly. 
 
 " Gash-flummux the old screen 1 " yelled Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, putting his foot into a bandbox that had be- 
 longed to his wife's Aunt Caroline, who had once 
 died quite unexpectedly and left very little else. 
 " What they got it hid away in this way for ? What 's 
 the use to poke it away up here in the air when they 
 might have sunk an artesian well and buried it? 
 Think I 'm Dr. Nansen, don't they ? " and as he came 
 to this bitter conclusion Mr. Wigglesworth struck his 
 head with a hollow sound against an unexpected rafter 
 and lit up the whole attic with a sudden, lurid glare. 
 
 " That 's it ! " he shrieked, clawing an Early English 
 hoopskirt from a nail and getting both arms mysteri- 
 ously involved with it ; " that 's the way ! " he added, 
 hoarsely, bursting open a discarded pillow with a kick 
 and taking a large quantity of feathers into his dis- 
 tended nostrils. 
 
 But this brought him to the screen door. He re- 
 membered, now, how he had struggled up there with 
 
 23
 
 How Wtgglesivorth 
 
 it some months ago and flung it disdainfully into a 
 corner. With a smothered shriek of rage mingled 
 with feathers Mr. Wigglesworth fell upon the door 
 and dragged it forward. 
 
 He did n't believe it possible he confessed this, 
 afterwards, to the doctor that they had been house- 
 keeping long enough to accumulate so many trunks 
 and wooden boxes as that door attached itself to dur- 
 ing its short but eventful journey toward the attic 
 stairs. But Mr. Wigglesworth's blood was up and 
 he 'd have ripped the lids off twice as many trunks if 
 the door had held together long enough for him to do 
 so. 
 
 And now and then he would pause and clutch 
 madly at the old hoopskirt, whose sinuous coils had 
 enveloped his back and shoulders like the fangs of 
 the deadly upas tree. 
 
 " Suffering Columbus ! " Mr. Wigglesworth would 
 shriek, and his voice would stir the clouds of feathers 
 that had come out of that one little pillow and rilled 
 the entire attic. Even amid the perspiring horror of 
 the situation Mr. Wigglesworth paused to note this 
 singular circumstance. 
 
 He and the screen door got down the attic stairs 
 together. He never understood how. People who 
 subsequently called in to talk it over with Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, and were brought up stairs by that 
 lady to view the situation, shook their heads and said 
 that they didn't either. It was a crooked flight of 
 stairs, with a pain that doubled them up in the 
 
 24
 
 Put on the Screen Door 
 
 middle, and they were narrow and their whole general 
 course instinctively suggested a Keeley cure. Mr. 
 Wigglesworth said he remembered arriving at the top 
 step, with the door in his grasp, and later he found 
 himself wedged at the foot of the stairs, the door 
 being still with him, but of what took place in the 
 meantime he has n't the slightest recollection. One 
 of the callers found a curly piece of sun-tanned cuticle 
 hanging on a nail near where the stairs forked, which 
 on being spread out was found to exactly fit an open 
 place on the back of Mr. Wigglesworth's neck. So it 
 is believed he must have passed down that way. 
 
 " Hark ! " said the minister who had rung the bell 
 in the course of his parish calls and was being smil- 
 ingly admitted by Mrs. Wigglesworth ; " what is that 
 dreadful noise ? " 
 
 It was Mr. Wigglesworth, struggling to his feet 
 and making use of the first word that came to hand. 
 Then he poked the end of the screen door over the 
 bannister rail. 
 
 "What ye doing down there? "he yelled to his 
 wife ; " think I 'm going to give up my whole noon 
 rest digging out screen doors for you ? " 
 
 " Don't try to come down the stairs alone with it, 
 I beg of you, Ellery," cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 clasping her hands; "you'll scratch the wood-work 
 and " 
 
 Giving utterance to a blood-curdling laugh, Mr. 
 Wigglesworth and the screen door appeared to launch 
 themselves into the air simultaneously, like that 
 
 25
 
 Put on the Screen Door 
 
 mythological god of something that the minister re- 
 membered speaking about in one of his sermons, but 
 whose name for the moment escaped him. Mr. 
 Wigglesworth's arms appeared to be fastened at the 
 elbows with the hoopskirt that clustered about his 
 back, somewhat fettering his existence, and his new 
 spring coat was quite lost sight of for the feathers. 
 Then he suddenly put both of his legs through the 
 screen door and the next instant the whole procession 
 arrived in the hall with a crash that sounded like the 
 collapse of an early presidential boom. 
 
 " My darling Ellery ! " sobbed Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 rushing forward. 
 
 "Screen doors put up I" shrieked Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth in a thick voice ; " I 'm Ellery Wigglesworth, 
 the celebrated screen doorist. I 'm Ellery W. Wig- 
 glesworth, the well-known philanthropist who goes 
 around putting up screen doors for the poor. 
 I'm " 
 
 But then they saw that his mind wandered and 
 they unthreaded his legs from the wires with all the 
 tenderness they were capable of.
 
 Chapter II 
 
 Haw Wigglesxvorth 
 Played an April 
 Fool Joke
 
 /A*. 
 
 And the hired girl bothered us a good deal.'" Page 33.
 
 CHAPTER 11. How Wigglesworth Played 
 an April Fool Joke 
 
 H 
 
 E! he! he!" snickered Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, as she bent over her work. 
 
 "What ye laughing at?" asked 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, without looking 
 up from his paper. 
 
 " I was thinking," answered his wife, shaking her 
 head and smiling. 
 
 "Well, don't let it occur again!" retorted Mr. 
 Wigglesworth. " How's anybody going to know what 
 to look for when Mrs. Wigglesworth gets to think- 
 ing?" 
 
 " I was thinking about April Fool's Day," said 
 Mrs Wigglesworth, unheeding her husband's pleas- 
 antry. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth stared over the top of his paper, 
 and broke into a grin. 
 
 "That's natural enough, though," he said, with a 
 loud chuckle, and then he nodded to himself in the 
 glass. 
 
 "What a strange custom it is," Mrs. Wiggleworth 
 continued, reflectively, "this playing of jokes upon 
 people. I suppose it dates back ever so many years. 
 Did you ever have any jokes played on you, Ellery ? " 
 
 "Well, I guess I didn't," said Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 blowing out his lips ; " but I Ve played enough of 'em 
 
 29
 
 Ho<w Wigglesworth 
 
 on other people," he added, reminiscently. " Me and 
 the Dodley twins used to be the greatest fellers for 
 April fooling you ever saw, when we were boys." 
 
 "What did you do?" asked Mrs. Wiggles worth. 
 
 "Do?" echoed her husband; "why everything; 
 what ye s'pose? Used to fool people, of course. 
 Aleck Dodley used to get up the greatest tricks you 
 ever heard of. But they couldn't none of 'em get 
 anything onto Aleck and me," concluded Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth ; " we was too smart for *em." 
 
 " I 'm sure you were," said his wife, knotting her 
 thread. 
 
 "I don't suppose," said Mr. Wigglesworth, "that 
 I 've had a joke played on me since I was ten years old." 
 
 "I don't believe anybody could fool me either," 
 said Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "Huh!" said her husband, as he turned to his 
 paper, and then in a flash, as such things always 
 come, was born within him a mighty suggestion. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth retired still further into the paper, 
 to hide the grin which this suggestion engendered. 
 
 By and by Mrs. Wigglesworth laid down her work 
 and vanished into the kitchen with some instructions 
 for Imogene connected with bread mixing. Mr. 
 Wigglesworth hastily blew out the lights, knowing 
 from her custom that his wife would go up to bed by 
 way of the kitchen stairs. Then he dashed noise- 
 lessly up the front way. 
 
 "Can't fool you, eh?" he chuckled, as he stole to 
 the top of the back stairs. 
 
 3
 
 Played an cApril Fool Joke 
 
 Here he quickly arranged, through the medium of 
 a chair, a pitcher of water and an ingeniously adjusted 
 bit of cord, such a practical joke as the Dodley twins 
 themselves, in their most twinly moments, might 
 have looked upon with envy. 
 
 Mr. Wiggles worth's face purpled with suppressed 
 laughter. 
 
 "Oh, no, we can't fool you !" he giggled, slapping 
 his leg. Then he removed the light, and the am- 
 bushed water pitcher felt a shudder creep through its 
 handle, as the horror of the situation was made evident. 
 
 "Emma!" bawled Mr. Wigglesworth down the 
 stairs; "ain't ye coming to bed?" Then he winked 
 to himself in the darkness. 
 
 " Oh, are you up there, Ellery ? " answered his 
 wife, putting her head in at the gloomy stairway ; 
 " I 've been looking for you everywhere. Run to the 
 front door, quick 1 Somebody's been ringing the bell 
 for five minutes, and I can't go because my hands 
 are all flour." 
 
 It was Mr. Wetherbee, who had come over to 
 borrow Mr. Wigglesworth's gun. 
 
 "Going to try the rabbits in the morning," he said. 
 
 "Come right in!" said Mr. Wigglesworth, drag- 
 ging at his neighbor cordially. 
 
 Mr. Wetherbee being an endorser on his note, Mr. 
 Wigglesworth was anxious to show him every consid- 
 eration. He soon had the lamps alight likewise a 
 couple of cigars, and for half an hour conversation 
 flowed merrily. 
 
 31
 
 How Wiggtes c worth 
 
 "I'll get the gun for you," then remarked Mr. 
 Wigglesvvorth. 
 
 It was n't in the back hall, where he distinctly re- 
 membered leaving it, nor could he find it in the shed, 
 where he knew it ought to be, and where he next 
 sought for it, muttering. 
 
 " What ye done with that gun ? " he called quer- 
 luously, to his wife ; " why can't ye leave things 
 where I put 'em ? Where ye hid it ? " 
 
 " It's on the attic stairs," Mrs. Wigglesworth re- 
 plied, her hands in the bread ; " you left it there last 
 week, you know." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know," snapped Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 dashing for the back stairs ; " I know I left it in the 
 shed. That's what I know," and he vanished up the 
 stairway. 
 
 The unthinking person, who is not in the habit of 
 thinking for himself, will be likely to affirm with un- 
 due haste that here is a situation invented by the 
 novelist, and yet may we not, with our hands upon 
 our respective hearts, candidly acknowledge that it 
 was the most natural thing in the world, in the con- 
 fusion consequent upon the advent of Mr. Wetherbee, 
 and the exasperating search for the gun, for Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth to slip some of the cogs that operated his 
 organ of recollection ? 
 
 And meantime, while we are doing this, Mr. 
 Wigglesworth is rushing up those stairs in the 
 dark. 
 
 Zipl 
 
 32
 
 Played an April Fool Joke 
 
 That was the cord, tied ingeniously across the stair- 
 way. 
 
 Crash I 
 
 That was Mr. Wigglesworth, r as his head dashed 
 through the rounds of the chair. 
 
 Bang! 
 
 That was the general round-up, as the water pitcher 
 turned its contents down Mr. Wiggles worth's neck 
 and the whole procession, debouching in fine order, 
 took up its line of march for the kitchen. 
 
 " I didn't know him at first," said Mr. Wetherbee, 
 in explaining it afterward to his wife. " It was the 
 most terrific noise you ever heard. I got there in 
 two seconds, but Wigglesworth beat me, with hours 
 to spare. By that time he had got his head clean 
 through the chair, the rope had tied him from head to 
 foot as he rolled down, and he 'd stuck one leg so far 
 into the pitcher that we had to break it to get 
 it off." 
 
 " Break the " interrupted his wife anxiously. 
 
 "The pitcher," replied Mr. Wetherbee. "And 
 the hired girl bothered us a good deal." 
 
 " What did she do ? " wondered Mrs. Wetherbee. 
 
 "That's it," explained her husband; "you see, she 
 couldn't do anything, having fainted very early, and 
 buried her face so deep in the pan of batter that I 
 thought at first she never again would break a royal 
 Worcester saucer." 
 
 " But what was- it all about ? " inquired Mrs. Weth- 
 erbee. 
 
 33
 
 Played an April Fool Joke. 
 
 Mr. Wetherbee carefully unbuttoned his collar and 
 laid it on the bureau. 
 
 " Wigglesworth," he said slowly, " was making an 
 April fool of of his wife " 
 
 34
 
 Chapter III 
 
 Wiggles c worth 
 Beat the Carpet
 
 " While his wife * * * fell forward with redoubled vij 
 and was enabled to smite her husband six or seven times in raj 
 succession." Page 44.
 
 CHAPTER III. How Wigglesworth Beat 
 the Carpet 
 
 "^W "W" "TELL, what's the matter now?" Mr. 
 
 ^ /m / Wigglesworth wanted to know in his 
 ^y ^y strong tone of masculine sympathy, 
 as he sat down to the dinner table. 
 
 "Matter enough," his wife replied, her forehead 
 wrinkled with care ; " here I Ve been waiting and 
 waiting all the forenoon for the man to come and 
 take up the parlor carpet and clean it. He promised 
 faithfully he 'd do it, and I 've got the parlor all torn 
 up, but no man." 
 
 " That 's right," Mr. Wigglesworth commented, as 
 he looked across at his wife, "put three lumps of 
 sugar in my coffee that '11 even things up in great 
 shape. Never saw anybody like you for striking an 
 average. Think I 'm a monthly balance sheet, don't 
 ye ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth apologized. "But you've no 
 idea how annoying it is," she said, her voice quaver- 
 ing. 
 
 "Poohl" returned her husband; "I never saw 
 such a thing as a woman is to let little matters upset 
 her. Where is this carpet?" he cried grandly; "let 
 me get at it, if you want to see the fur fly 1 " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth with considerable trepidation 
 followed him into the parlor. A woman rightly dis- 
 trusts her husband under such circumstances. 
 
 37
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 " Be careful ! " she fluttered, as Mr. Wigglesworth 
 backed up against a group of statuary and set it 
 rocking. 
 
 "Why, cert!" Mr. Wigglesworth jocularly re- 
 sponded ; " that 's the way that 's the way to clean 
 a carpet man ought to put on woolen gloves and 
 not get too near for fear of touching it I Come out 
 of that 1 " he continued smartly, seizing a loose corner 
 and ripping out a whole course of tacks ; " better send 
 out and get another man 1 What 's the matter with 
 waiting till spring planting is over ? Why not adver- 
 tise for the unemployed at highest wages ? " 
 
 The delivery of these sentences, in Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's choicest vein, was accompanied with such a 
 ripping out of tacks, as the street never before had 
 witnessed. True, little pieces of the carpet also 
 ripped out here and there and mingled with Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth's regrets, but in a period of time that 
 was surprising for its brevity her husband had scram- 
 bled the breadths of that carpeting into a heap at the 
 middle of the floor, and she jcould see him through 
 the dust mopping off his forehead. 
 
 "Don't s'pose you like the methods of Wiggles- 
 worth ? " he called ; " 'druther pay a man three dollars, 
 would n't ye ? " 
 
 "But but the hard work comes in in the beat- 
 ing," Mrs. Wigglesworth explained. Imogene and I 
 could get out the tacks ; what I wanted the man for 
 was to beat out the dust." 
 
 "Two dollars more that's what that means," re- 
 
 38
 
 Beat the Carpet 
 
 torted her husband. " I '11 show ye how to save 
 money instead of spending it like water," he added, 
 whereupon he grabbed the carpet and dragged it out 
 to the lawn, trailing it through two other rooms, to 
 the detriment of several articles of bric-a-brac. 
 
 " Where ye going to hang the thing ? " he said, after 
 vainly peering up into the heavens and off across the 
 country ; " think I 'm going to hold it up with one 
 hand and slap it with the other ? " 
 
 "There's a piece of rope in the cellar," Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth volunteered, and her husband, mutter- 
 ing, went and got it. One end he tied to a tree and 
 the other with much difficulty and standing on a 
 barrel he made fast to a water-spout at the side of 
 the house. 
 
 "There!" he triumphantly cried, as he stepped 
 down from the barrel, " how 's that for three dollars a 
 day ? " 
 
 " How are you going to get the carpet over it ? " 
 his wife ventured. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth turned an eye up at the rope, 
 which was eight feet above sea-level. 
 
 "Why didn't ye tell me I was putting the thing 
 up too high?" he snapped; "what's the use to be a 
 fool in your own front yard ? " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth noticed that the neighbors in 
 three adjacent houses were looking out of window at 
 him, and he had to keep his voice down on that ac- 
 count. Probably nothing in the world makes a man 
 so unhappy as to have to curb his voice when his 
 
 39
 
 H&w Wiggle&worth 
 
 emotions are all tending in the opposite direction, and 
 Mr. Wigglesworth showed 'that he felt that way as 
 he laboriously remounted the barrel and lowered the 
 rope. Then with infinite pains he dragged the carpet 
 over it it was a stiff, unyielding carpet with huge 
 red roses blowing luxuriantly upon a purple ground 
 and he was not in the least mollified at discovering 
 that, this done, half of the carpet yet trailed upon 
 the soggy lawn. 
 
 "What ye grinning at?" he said in a voice that 
 hissed through his clenched teeth. 
 
 "I I was n't grinning 1 " stammered Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 " Yes ye was too 1 " he snarled. " You think it 
 smart to stand there sucking in your lips and looking 
 knowing, with all these freckle-faced neighbors gawk- 
 ing out at us, but I '11 show ye that the whole kit and 
 boodle of ye can 't put me down 1 Why don't ye go 
 fetch that clothes-pole?" he shouted, his voice slip- 
 ping away from him ; " think I can stay away from the 
 office all day just to save money for you ? Why don't 
 ye prance round and do something if you expect me 
 to help you out ! " 
 
 So Mrs. Wigglesworth got the clothes pole and her 
 husband braced it under one end of the line, which 
 promptly sent the carpet slipping to the other end. 
 
 "Don't talk like that!" pleaded Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth as her husband grabbed the carpet and snatched 
 it back ; " suppose the minister should be going by 1 " 
 
 "Where's that hired girl!" called Mr. Wiggles- 
 40
 
 Beat the Carpet 
 
 worth, not heeding his wife's injunction ; " what ye 
 done with that female consolidation of household 
 errors? Why ain't she out here doing some good 
 instead of staying there in the kitchen putting her 
 thumb through valuable dishes?" 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth brought forth Imogene, wiping 
 her hands on the under side of her apron. 
 
 " Here you ! " Mr. Wigglesworth said in an author- 
 itative tone, " take this rake and pry up this end of 
 the rope with it. Not that way 1 " he shouted as 
 Imogene with great earnestness seized the rake and 
 gave it a mighty hoist ; " you don't have to hitch it 
 over the corner of Jupiter. Just hold it straight, 
 that 's all you've got to do." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth then grasped a bean-pole and 
 smote the carpet a blow. The hired girl, being new 
 to the business, found the rake suddenly knocked out 
 of her hand, and the huge carpet slipping down upon 
 her. Mr. Wigglesworth danced right up in the 
 air. 
 
 " Where 'd ye get this imported aggregation of 
 imbecility?" he snorted, pulling the carpet off the 
 girl, whom Mrs. Wigglesworth assisted to her feet ; 
 "can't she boost a simple wooden rake into the air 
 without introducing her foreign numheadedness into 
 the performance ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth said some encouraging things 
 to the girl, who resumed the rake, while Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, growling uninterruptedly, picked up his bean- 
 pole. 
 
 41
 
 H&w Wiggles'worth 
 
 " Shan't I help you ? " his wife asked, desirous of 
 showing her interest. 
 
 "Lots of help you'd be!" grumbled Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, but he consented, and his wife fetched a stick 
 from the shed. 
 
 " Don't hit it too hard," warned her husband, grin- 
 ning, as he saw the stick ; " don't strike it under the 
 guard and mash in its ribs." Soothed in a measure 
 by these humorous sallies Mr. Wigglesworth raised 
 his pole and caught the red roses a number of re- 
 sounding thwacks. The hired girl surged forward 
 and back with the wobblings of the rake, but main- 
 tained her ground valiantly. Great clouds of dust 
 writhed out of the carpet's folds and enveloped Mr. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 "What ye doing that for ? " he shouted, coughing 
 and spluttering and stamping about the lawn ; " what 
 ye want to pound all that dirt into my face for ? " 
 
 "I I didn't do it," replied his wife; "I hadn't 
 begun yet." 
 
 "Hadn't begun!" echoed Mr. Wigglesworth in his 
 angriest tone, as he wiped his eyes ; " why had n't ye ? 
 What ye standing round here for, making me do all 
 the work ? Ain't you just as well able to hit this car- 
 pet as I am ? Now lay on, and strike for all you 're 
 worth, and see'f you can't do something." 
 
 Animated by this heroic injunction Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth accompanied her husband into the conflict. 
 The carpet was between them, and as Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth laid on with his bean-pole, Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 
 42
 
 Beat the Carpet 
 
 shutting both eyes, waltzed in. The neighbors, who 
 by this time had got their windows open and were 
 leaning out, said afterwards that they never believed 
 it possible one frail woman could in so short a time 
 discover such a marvelous facility for hitting at things 
 that were n't there, and one of them, a maiden lady 
 in glasses, in rehearsing the scene at the sewing 
 circle, said that even Mr. Wigglesworth's remarks 
 were quite lost sight of in the wonderment that his 
 wife's abnormal gestures awakened. 
 
 The first clip that Mrs. Wigglesworth struck fell a 
 little short of the carpet, and so swung her twice 
 around, causing her brain to reel with dizziness, but 
 stimulated by the cries of Mr. Wigglesworth, on the 
 opposite side of the carpet, she again uplifted her 
 weapon, and keeping her eyes steadfastly shut, waded 
 forward. How, being lost in her bearings, she first 
 charged up against the clothes-pole and fetched it 
 loose, is not yet clearly understood, but turning she 
 made her way back, brandishing her stick with super- 
 human energy and cleaving the empty air with 
 tremendous blows. Mr. Wigglesworth, unconscious 
 of his wife's flank movement, was pounding industri- 
 ously away, spitting out dust and quotations at every 
 stroke, and the first intimation he received that death 
 was loose and riding in his direction was a swinging 
 clap of his wife's weapon that met him at the back of 
 the neck, doubling him into the carpet with incredible 
 swiftness and temporarily unhinging his reason. His 
 unexpected weight projected upon the carpet utterly 
 
 43
 
 'Beat the Carpet 
 
 bore down the tottering Imogene, whose rake, claw- 
 ing along the line, buried its teeth out of sight in the 
 scant hair of Mr. Wigglesworth ; while his wife, feel- 
 ing for the first time an opposition to her blows, and 
 conceiving it to be the work cut out for her, fell 
 forward with redoubled vigor and was able to smite 
 her husband six or seven times in rapid succession 
 before that gentleman's well-known voice and style of 
 diction enabled her to open her eyes and discover 
 whither she was drifting. 
 
 " Don't talk to me 1 " shrieked Mr. Wigglesworth 
 as he struggled up and drove his bean-pole, point first, 
 through the heart of the largest rose ; " stay up there 
 on that banking doing up your back hair and looking 
 like an idiot for these neighbors to stare at serves 
 you right and serves me right, too I " he yelled, 
 smearing the blood from his nose with one hand ; 
 "serves me right for marrying into a family whose 
 ancestors used to be court fools to the English kings 
 and have kept up the blood for forty generations 
 without a flaw I " 
 
 But the three-dollar man finished the carpet. 
 
 44
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 How Mrs. Wiggles- 
 ( worth Gave a 
 Surprise Party
 
 " But it was some moments before Mr. Wetherbee and the 
 minister could get the man with the red whiskers and Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth separated." Page 32.
 
 CHAPTER IV. Hcyw Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 Gave a Surprise Party 
 
 iA ND you'll promise not to breathe a word 
 /% of it?" 
 
 / ^k Mrs. Wigglesworth put her head in- 
 
 -^" -^- sinuatingly on one side and held a 
 ringer archly toward the ceiling. 
 
 The minister's wife promised. 
 
 " Well, then," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, with an air, 
 "I'm getting up a surprise party for Ellery. To- 
 morrow is his birthday, you know, and I just thought 
 it would be the most fun to invite in a houseful of 
 friends and give him the greatest surprise he ever had 
 in his life." 
 
 The minister's wife said she thought it would be 
 cute, and undertook for herself and husband to be 
 present. 
 
 "Now, hush!" warned Mrs. Wigglesworth on 
 going away ; '* not a word, for if it should get to 
 Ellery it would ruin everything." 
 
 It is doubtful if any human being ever went about 
 under a heavier weight of importance than Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth exhibited all through the day. The 
 air of mystery that throned her countenance, the 
 warning looks cast upon Willie, the guilty startings 
 when Mr. Wigglesworth uttered the most innocent 
 remarks, were enough to have given warning to the 
 
 47
 
 Ho<w cMrs. Wigglesworth 
 
 dullest perception that something special was im- 
 pending. 
 
 " What ails ye, anyway ? " grumbled Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, staring across the table at his wife ; " what ye 
 trying to act out with all them fool faces ? Think 
 you 're a graven image operated by clockwork, don't 
 ye ? " 
 
 " I was only only thinking," faltered Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, lamely. 
 
 " Huh 1 " commented her husband ; " can 't ye think 
 without working your face ? People who are used to 
 thinking do it on the inside of their heads. Why 
 don't ye try it that way ? " 
 
 " I was thinking," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, with 
 great innocence, " that I 'd ask you to go down street 
 after supper and get me two dozen er eggs." 
 
 " What for ? " grumbled Mr. Wigglesworth, spear- 
 ing another biscuit ; " what ye want with eggs all of a 
 sudden that ye can 't order 'em of the market boy in 
 the morning?" 
 
 "Why, you see," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, plaiting 
 the tablecloth, "I'm all out and and I really 
 need a few for for breakfast, you know," she con- 
 cluded, with a frozen smile. She 'd no idea it was 
 such a difficult matter to get a man down street after 
 supper. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth munched on in silence, while 
 his wife's heart sank lower and lower. After all, she 
 thought, with a sickening sensation, were her plans 
 to utterly miscarry ? 
 
 48
 
 Gave a Surprise Party 
 
 " Do go, Ellery," she said coaxingly. 
 
 Never in the world would Mr. Wigglesworth have 
 done it on her solicitation, but, discovering that his 
 box of cigars was burned out, he concluded that a 
 little run down town would do him good. It was a 
 close call. Ten minutes later the first guests arrived. 
 
 "Hush!" whispered Mrs. Wigglesworth, as she 
 ushered them into the darkened hall. "Oh, such a 
 time as I have had to get rid of Ellery ! Put your 
 things right in the dining-room, so he won't notice 
 them when he comes back." 
 
 " I trust Brother Wigglesworth has no premonition 
 of the charming event which you have er con- 
 cocted ? " said the minister, as he stepped through a 
 hat belonging to a deacon of another denomination. 
 "Dear me!" he exclaimed, "I fear I have deeply 
 injured somebody's head covering. It was quite an 
 accident, I assure you." 
 
 " Why don't ye look where ye 're stepping ? " re- 
 turned the deacon, a little warmly. 
 
 " You should n't have deposited it upon the floor," 
 protested the minister. 
 
 The difficulty in carrying on this altercation in a 
 suppressed voice imparted a purple cast to the coun- 
 tenances of the speakers, which in the dim light of 
 the subdued gas jets took on an awful expression. 
 
 " Hush ! " cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, looking in 
 from the parlor, "you'll have to come this way, 
 please. And don't say another word, will you ? for I 
 expect Ellery at any moment." 
 
 49
 
 H&w Mrs. Wiggles<worth 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth's spirits rose to the occasion. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wetherbee were there, also the woman 
 who lived next door, and whose husband's long red 
 whiskers presented a phosphorescent appearance in 
 the ghostly gloom. Then there were Mr. and Mrs. 
 Tacker, the Misses Sloot, young Mr. Tadley, Deacon 
 Fodder, Mr. and Mrs. Raggles and a number of 
 others. 
 
 " Hush ! " aspirated the minister. " I hear Brother 
 Wigglesworth approaching the gate. Let us turn 
 out the lights entirely, and when he advances into 
 the middle of the apartment, suddenly re-ignite the 
 gas and unitedly jump around him with merry shouts, 
 wishing him many happy returns of the occasion." 
 
 In the stillness that ensued the noise of a fumbled 
 lock was heard, also the swashing of the spring rain, 
 which in the past half hour had grown from a mild 
 drizzle to an April downpour, and through which Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, burdened with the eggs and some 
 other commissions, had found his way soakingly 
 home, without an umbrella. How numb his fingers 
 had grown I Would the lock never yield ? 
 
 Then the door flung open with a crash and Mr. 
 Wigglesworth slid three-quarters across the polished 
 floor. 
 
 " Emma 1 " he called in a loud voice. 
 
 Naught answered to his cry. In the next room 
 the guests cowered in corners, the man with the red 
 whiskers nursing himself into an incipient apoplexy 
 with suppression of breathing. 
 
 SO
 
 Gave a. Surprise Party 
 
 " Emma 1 " bawled Mr. Wigglesworth again, a little 
 more angrily, " where ye got to now ? What ye got 
 the house so dark for, anyway ? Think I 'm a cathode 
 ray, don't ye ? Fetch out a light there." 
 
 There was no response to this, and the guests, 
 bursting with repressed laughter, could hear Mr. 
 Wigglesworth poking about the hall and muttering. 
 
 " Emma ! " he yelled, as his head found one of the 
 metal knobs of the hat tree, "where's my dry under- 
 shirt? I'm soaked to the skin, I tell ye, tramping 
 around after your blamed old eggs. Hurry down 
 here, can't ye ? " 
 
 Now Mr. Wigglesworth had felt his way into the 
 parlor. 
 
 " Oh, that 's the way," he sneered aloud in a bitter 
 tone, " that 's all the thanks a man gets after soaking 
 through the rain after a mess of gashflummuxed old 
 addled eggs. Where's them matches?" he added, 
 waving his arms around in the dark ; " prob'ly she 's 
 hid them, also, after blowing out the lights. Emma 1 " 
 he yelled again, and then listened. "Oh, no no 
 need to call her," he snorted, " prob'ly gone over to 
 see that old hen next door and borrow some lard 
 either that or else pranced up to that chuckle- 
 headed minister's to see about sending some more 
 clothing to the missionaries, and me without a dry 
 shirt to my back wow I " 
 
 By this time Mr. Wigglesworth had worked over 
 to the bay window, the egg basket still on his arm 
 and his hands circling about in search of rescue, as a 
 
 51
 
 a Surprise Party 
 
 man in the dark will, and the yell that he let off in 
 the foregoing paragraph was occasioned by his hand 
 closing around the red whiskers of the man who 
 lived next door. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth got the gas lighted as soon as 
 her nervous haste would permit. But it was some 
 time before Mr. Wetherbee and the minister could 
 get the man with the red whiskers and Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth separated so that each might go on in his 
 respective capacity. 
 
 " I 'm an old hen, am I ? " spat the woman next 
 door as she seized the red-whiskered man by the arm 
 and dragged him toward the exit. 
 
 And really her husband had rolled over so many 
 times with the basket of eggs, and was so covered 
 with them from head to foot, resembling nothing so 
 much as a movable Italian sunset, that even young 
 Mr. Tadley could see how natural was the suggestion.
 
 Chapter V 
 
 HCKV Wigglesworth 
 Hung the Wall 
 Paper
 
 " The paper letting go its hold and transferring its affec- 
 tions to the falling fortunes of the house of Wigglesworth." 
 Page 61.
 
 CHAPTER V. How Wigglesworth Hung the 
 Wall Paper 
 
 AT the first step Mr. Wigglesworth made 
 into the front hall his foot rested upon 
 a moist cake of soap, and in another 
 instant he was over by the dining-room 
 door with his arms around the hat-tree and some 
 language trailing on behind that left a coppery taste 
 in the atmosphere as it slowly curled up the front 
 stairway. 
 
 " Who left that sloap on the f oor ? " he yelled, soon 
 as he could unhook himself from the hat-tree. 
 
 "Why I I guess Imogene must," stammered 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, who had rushed in from the 
 kitchen with a potato masher in her hand. " We 
 we are cleaning house, you know." 
 
 "Cleaning house!" repeated her husband, "well, 
 s'pose ye are? You needn't think you're going to 
 use me to flop up your moors with." The sudden- 
 ness of Mr. Wigglesworth's entrance had temporarily 
 unhinged his tongue. "Think you've seen me adver- 
 tised in the back end of the magazine, don't ye?" 
 he continued, "warranted to save labor or money 
 refunded 1 Reckon I 'm to be had of all grocers, I 
 s'pose, or sent prepaid on receipt of price 1 " 
 
 These retorts were so keen that through their 
 exercise Mr. Wigglesworth found his good nature 
 coming back, and he ate dinner without grumbling 
 
 55
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 more than a husband has to do ordinarily. When he 
 went into the sitting room he found the carpet up 
 and there was a bundle of wall-paper in a chair. 
 
 " What 's this ? " he sniffed, suspiciously. 
 
 " It 's wall paper," his wife responded ; " I got it at 
 a great bargain down to Root & Gilder's closing 
 out of new spring goods, just received, at less than 
 cost." 
 
 " Huh 1 " grunted her husband, unrolling a package 
 and holding it wrong side up. " Looks like a case of 
 delirious trimmings." 
 
 "Yes," fluttered Mrs. Wigglesworth, "it is the 
 new art, the man said after Aubrey Beardsley." 
 
 " Who 's Aubrey Beardsley ? " coldly returned Mr. 
 Wigglesworth with a falling inflection. 
 
 "He he is the the man that has got up so 
 many new ideas of of art," Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 explained; "they went quite crazy over him, you 
 know, so the man said." 
 
 " Well, if they 're any crazier than Beardsley I pity 
 *em," growled her husband, dropping the roll in dis- 
 gust. "Who's going to hoist this nightmare onto 
 our walls ? " he added. 
 
 "I I want you to step in and speak to the paper- 
 hanger on your way down," his wife returned. 
 
 "Oh, yes, that's it!" Mr. Wigglesworth snorted, 
 " feller with a blackboard on his shoulder and a hinge 
 
 in the middle and four dollars a day " and then 
 
 an idea shot into Mr. Wigglesworth's active brain. 
 "B'george!" he cried, firing with it, "I'll hang this 
 
 56
 
 Hung the Wall Paper 
 
 paper myself!" and he began peeling off his coat. 
 
 " But, Ellery," his wife said in mild expostulation, 
 "you haven't had any experience." 
 
 " Experience nothing ! " retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 'what's experience got to do with a handy man? 
 Four dollars a day 's experience enough for me, and I 
 must be a chump if I can 't smear some moist flour 
 over the rear end of a few sheets of paper and slap 
 'em up against a smooth wall ! " 
 
 When Mr. Wigglesworth made up his mind to a 
 thing, it was like the French Revolution, it had to go. 
 In brief time Imogene was boiling some paste and 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth had tied one of her aprons about 
 her husband's neck, much to his disgust. Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth declared when all nature was vocal 
 with the melody of spring, when birds were fluting 
 their first glad notes and a thousand streams made 
 music in their journey toward the sea, she didn't pro- 
 pose to have her husband going through the street 
 with flour paste daubed all over his new spring garments. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth opened one of the rolls of paper, 
 spread it out on the dining-room table and " taking a 
 sight " at the altitude of the room, cut off a strip that 
 appeared to be the proper length. Utilizing a crumb- 
 brush he spread on a copious quantity of paste and 
 then lifted the paper by one end. He put his arms 
 up to their full length but the other end of the paper 
 still lingered on the table. 
 
 " Why don't ye take hold of it ? " he said testily to 
 his wife, who stood dubiously looking on. 
 
 57
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 So Mrs. Wigglesworth upraised the other end and 
 her husband stood in a chair. He reached for the 
 border line of the wall, but fell short of it. 
 
 "Why don't ye go fetch a table?" he roared. 
 " That 's right ! " he shouted as Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 dropped her end of the paper and the pasty side trailed 
 over the back of the chair and clung about his knees. 
 
 " You told me to get the table," Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 protested, considerably abashed. 
 
 " Oh, of course I " Mr. Wigglesworth retorted ; "lay 
 it all onto me. 'F I 'd told ye to jump through a 
 hoop I s'pose you 'd done it ! Well ! " he yelled, as 
 his arms began to draw out of their sockets, "what 
 ye standing there all day on one foot for ? Think my 
 arms are bamboo fish poles with german silver joints, 
 don't ye ? Why don't ye go get the table, if you 're 
 going to, 'fore I stiffen out here like a blamed old 
 mummy and have to go into a private collection 
 under Exhibit A 1 " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth got back as soon as possible, 
 but not before her husband's arms had pulled out and 
 he had dashed the paper on the floor and was stamp- 
 ing on it. Nothing relieves a man like stamping, so 
 when they had arranged the table a mahogany 
 table with a shiny top beside the wall, and put a 
 little hassock on top of it, Mr. Wigglesworth felt 
 sufficiently mollified to snip off another length of the 
 Beardsley pattern and apply some more paste to its 
 posterior surface, maintaining a steady current of 
 growling at his wife, on general principles. 
 
 58
 
 Hung the Wall Paper 
 
 " Now don't be a fool, this time," he said, encour- 
 agingly, as they picked up the paper and he labori- 
 ously climbed to the polished surface of the table 
 with it. Then he stepped cautiously upon the has- 
 sock and stood there an instant, his knees wobbling 
 painfully. 
 
 " Can you reach ? " his wife called from below. 
 She was busy keeping her part of the paste away 
 from the mahogany table. 
 
 " Reach ? " echoed Mr. Wigglesworth, in a concen- 
 trated voice; "what ye s'pose I'm up here for any- 
 way ? Think I 'm addressing the county convention ? 
 Want me to move an amendment in favor of woman's 
 suffrage, don't ye?" Then the hassock turned 
 slightly, as the worm is said to do, and in catching 
 his breath and balance Mr. Wigglesworth jerked the 
 paper out of his wife's tentative grasp. The paper 
 turned a smart corner and flapped up against the 
 wall, to which it clung in a clammy and tenacious 
 embrace. 
 
 "What ye do that for?" shouted Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth as loud as the uncertain hassock would permit. 
 
 "I I did n't go to," returned his frightened wife, 
 and with what alacrity she was mistress of she un- 
 peelecl the cold and deathlike sheet. 
 
 "Now you let it alone, d'ye hear?" warned her 
 husband, and acting upon his direction Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth retired to the far side of the room, and looked 
 on in fascination. This is the tragedy that swiftly 
 unfolded itself. 
 
 59
 
 H&w Wigglcyworth 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, feeling more and more the 
 treacherous character of the hassock, held his knees 
 at that angle which gives to even the strongest man 
 an appearance of weakness. His arms were thrust 
 out to their full capacity, and though at a distance, 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth could feel the dreadful ache that 
 pervaded them. First her husband pressed his end 
 of the strip close up to the border; the lower end 
 caught on also at the same instant, but in quite an- 
 other part of the room, and by the time Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth had reached painfully downward and fetched it 
 loose, at the same moment muttering something that 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth tried hard to hear, but couldn't, 
 distinctly, the upper end came away and flapped 
 down over Mr. Wigglesworth's forehead, leaving more 
 paste there than his wife had thought could be left 
 on one forehead in a single afternoon. Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's comments upon this transaction, as he fren- 
 ziedly snatched at the paper, were not only clearly 
 audible to his wife, but even penetrated to Imogene, 
 who promptly opened the kitchen door to see if she 
 might not be able to hear still plainer. Then Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, with an earnestness that nobody could 
 avoid noticing, spanked the moist side of that paper 
 against the wall and slapped it with both hands till 
 the creations of Aubrey Beardsley's fancy ran all into 
 each other. 
 
 "Now fix the lower end," chirped Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth from the distance. 
 
 This was one of those things that were better left 
 
 60
 
 Hung the Wall Paper 
 
 unsaid. Mr. WigglesNvorth had stood on that uncer- 
 tain hassock till his knees appeared permanently fixed 
 at half-cock, his arms were stretched clean out of 
 their legitimate precincts, his head was bursting with 
 the upper stratum of hot air and perspiration fashioned 
 his garments so close to him that he appeared to have 
 been born that way. When this gratuitous direction 
 burst cooingly from his wife's lips, he fetched a mad 
 snatch at the end of the paper, and on the instant 
 the hassock, with a low, fiendish chuckle, turned over 
 on its other side. Mr. Wigglesworth had only time 
 for one yell, and then vaulted into the air, the paper 
 letting go its hold and transferred its affections to the 
 falling fortunes of the house of Wigglesworth, and as 
 that gentleman went sailing through the atmosphere, 
 the paper wound itself in sinuous folds about him, till 
 a stranger looking in at the window would have said 
 that Mr. Wigglesworth was an admirable picture 
 reproduced from a yellow poster. 
 
 " That' s right," he yelled, soon as he could get to 
 his feet and kick the hassock through the door, 
 "stand over there with your thumb in your mouth 
 and toeing in that's all you're good for. Wh ? d' 
 ye let go that paper for ? " he continued, shaking his 
 fist toward the ceiling. "Why didn't ye steady the 
 table, same's I told ye? You make me out the 
 blamedest old fool in Knox county, always trying to 
 help you with your economizing, but I want you to 
 understand that the next time you get me to chor^ 
 around at house-cleaning my name won't be Wiggles- 
 
 61
 
 Hung the Wall Paper 
 
 worth ! " and he rushed up to the bath room to clean 
 himself. 
 
 " I felt awfully about it," said Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 to the minister's wife, who called soon afterwards to 
 ask her to bake a cake for the church sociable, "but 
 if you never saw a man fall off a mahogany table with 
 a calico cooking apron tied round his neck you never 
 can realize how dreadfully Ellery looked at that 
 moment." 
 
 62
 
 Chapter VI 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Ran Through
 
 " With a mighty up gathering of strength, Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth started forward." Page 77.
 
 CHAPTER VI. How Wigglesworth Ran 
 Through 
 
 WHEN Mr. Wigglesworth found that the 
 man with the subscription book had 
 detained him at the office till after his 
 supper hour, which fact, however, he 
 did not ascertain until the man hard secured his name 
 for the thirty parts of a publication nobody ever 
 heard of, illustrated by views of places that never 
 had been seen, he was mad, and he burst into the 
 house with more than his usual vigor. 
 
 " Come, now ! " he cried in a threatening tone as 
 he jumped through the front hall, "s'pose ye mean 
 to keep me waiting all night, don't ye ? Hired girl 
 wants another hour to boil them four-minute eggs, I 
 s'pose ? Tired to death, too, that 's what I am, and 
 you women folks loafing around here at home with 
 nothing to do ! " 
 
 But the supper table was immaculately spread and 
 everything waited in readiness. Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 called attention to this fact, with a little purring air 
 of triumph. But that wasn't the way to smooth 
 Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " he grumbled, jerking his napkin out of 
 the ring, " you think it 's mighty funny to contradict 
 your own husband, and him tired and sick working 
 for you. Awful knowing, you are. Been reading 
 the Encyclopedia Britannica, ain't ye ? Which volume 
 
 65
 
 Haw Wiggles e worth 
 
 ye working through now ? Must be prowling round in 
 the index by this time. Take your arms off the 
 table ! " This concluding injunction was delivered to 
 Master Willie Wigglesworth, which young man it 
 brought bolt upright in his chair, with a suddenness 
 that made his spinal column give forth a sharp 
 metallic click. 
 
 "What's all that rubbish across the street ?" Mr. 
 Wigglesworth growled out, after the meal had pro- 
 ceeded for some moments in silence, and with that 
 gentleman's gaze fastened steadily upon his plate. 
 
 "It it's a a bonfire," piped Willie, after swal- 
 lowing a number of times to make way for his thin, 
 scared voice. 
 
 "Whatl" exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth, with an 
 awful glare ; " there ain't no fire about it 1 Don't let 
 me catch you telling any lies to your own father, 
 young man ! " 
 
 " He means," explained Mrs. Wigglesworth, " that 
 it 's going to be a bonfire. After dark, you know. 
 That 's what Willie meant to say." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you understand it," said Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, smartly ; " you 're the woman that goes round 
 explaining things that never happened. Send you a 
 lock of red hair by mail and you '11 tell anybody how 
 to get over things that never ailed 'em. That 's what 
 you '11 do. Pass the butter 1 " 
 
 Thus we see how wide-reaching is influence. Even 
 the persistence of a book canvasser may operate to 
 direct the tea table talk of celebrated individuals. 
 
 66
 
 Ran Through 
 
 Book canvassers ought to think of this before it is 
 too late. 
 
 But there was something in the hurry and excite- 
 ment of the scene in the lot across the way that 
 fired Mr. Wigglesworth's interest, as he stood after 
 supper morosely gazing through the sitting-room 
 window. Boys of all sizes and conditions were indus- 
 triously rushing to and fro, staggering under piles of 
 spruce boughs brought from neighboring flower 
 gardens, and depositing them upon the hugejnound 
 reared in the center of the inclosure. 
 
 " B' george ! " he said, rubbing one foot on top of 
 the other, "that reminds me of the Dodley twins. 
 What bonfires we did use to have 1 Why, me and 
 Alexander Dodley Aleck, we used to call him 
 What ye doing, you fool, you ? " he shouted. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth sprang half out of her chair. 
 
 "Wha did you say?" she stammered, pulling 
 the needle out of her thumb. 
 
 "Not you, "her husband answered, testily, "the 
 other one that lunk-headed boy, out there hi! 
 youl" he called, rapping on the window, "don't start 
 it that way ! " 
 
 The boy had put a bit of paper in at the apex of 
 the brush-heap, and was vainly striving to set it alight. 
 
 " Let me show 'em, " muttered Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 breaking for the door. 
 
 " Don't, Ellery, I beg of you, " his wife pleaded ; 
 " you 're tired to death, and the ground's wet, and 
 your slippers " 
 
 67
 
 How Wiggles'worth 
 
 But with a snarl, Mr. Wigglesworth was out fn the 
 yard and dashing across the street. 
 
 " Gimme that match, " he bawled in a voice of 
 authority as he pranced into the lot. "You boys 
 don't know enough to eat piel Wish't I had the 
 Dodley twins here, we'd show ye how to run a bon- 
 fire that would make your eyes bug out I " 
 
 The boys gave back in awe of Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 personality, and that gentleman, going down on his 
 knees, tucked a crumpled newspaper under a corner 
 of the brush and struck a match to it. There was a 
 little flicker of light, a fortune of smoke, and Mr. 
 Wigglesworth filled his lungs quite full of it. 
 
 "What you boys all standing around here for?" 
 he yelled, coughing and stamping and batting his 
 reddened eyes ; " trying to keep the wind off, ain't 
 ye?" Saying which he aimed a blow at the nearest 
 boy, but missed him, and then he walked aimlessly 
 around in a little circle, spluttering and heaving, with 
 the smoke persistently wrapping him about. 
 
 "You started her on the wrong side!*' shrieked 
 the boy with two front teeth missing. This was 
 true, but Mr. Wigglesworth never would have ac- 
 knowledged it had not the little fire finally smouldered 
 itself to death. 
 
 " Now you boys stand out of the way, " he growled 
 as he got down on his damp knees again ; "I'd had it 
 going long ago if 't hadn't been for you. " 
 
 Assisted by a little breeze the kindled paper flared 
 up, caught the resinous boughs and leaped into life. 
 
 68
 
 Ran Through 
 
 " Hooray ! " screamed the boys, dancing madly up 
 and down, their shadows making grotesque motions 
 on the adjacent house walls. 
 
 "That's the stuff 1" Mr. Wigglesworth said, stand- 
 ing back and looking like Nero when he had ordered 
 Rome kindled, only more important. "Aleck Dodley 
 always said I knew more about a bonfire than the 
 whole town, and so did his brother. They were both 
 twins and they knew what they were talking about, I 
 tell ye!" 
 
 The blaze, setting the neighborhood alight, attracted 
 great groups of spectators. Adjacent windows went 
 up and filled with eager heads. Neighbors came for- 
 ward with the refuse of house cleaning, and offered up 
 old boots, and bottles, battered furniture and antique 
 hoopskirts as tribute to the flames. Many years have 
 gone by since hoopskirts made woman's life a burden, 
 yet the attics of our homes continue to give forth 
 from some mysterious corner their annual contribu- 
 tions of this antiquated finery. 
 
 During the momentary lull in the violence of the 
 flames, while the smoke billowed forth in illuminated 
 clouds, the boys began "running through." This 
 game consisted of a short, quick run, ending in a fly- 
 ing leap straight over the burning pile. The on- 
 lookers saw the boy vault into the air and disappear 
 amid the smoke, whence he almost instantly reap- 
 peared upon the opposite side, sans eyebrows, cough- 
 ing and wiping his eyes and smelling horribly. There 
 was a dash and excitement to the sport, particularly 
 
 69
 
 H&w Wiggles<worth 
 
 when the smoke grew so dense and the interior flames 
 so fierce that only the more adventuresome boys dared 
 essay it. Then, as the flames spurted more fiercely 
 aloft, even they were awed. 
 
 " Stump anybody to foller me ! " screamed the boy 
 with two front teeth missing, an awful look upon his 
 black, smooched face. But the flames, fastening upon 
 an old pair of pointed shoes, flung their naked arms 
 aloft and roared in savage glee, appalling the stoutest- 
 hearted. Mr. Wigglesworth shook his head. 
 
 " I wish the Dodley twins were here," he muttered, 
 glowering at the boy with two front teeth missing. 
 " Me and them used to jump through fires twice as 
 big as this." 
 
 " You try it, pa I " screeched Willie Wigglesworth. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth shook his head again, but at this 
 the crowd of spectators caught up the cry : 
 
 " Wigglesworth ! Wigglesworth 1 " they shouted in 
 chorus; "hoo-roar for Wigglesworth." 
 
 It was the noise of battle to the war horse when he 
 snuffeth from afar off and remarks to himself, 
 " Aha 1 " Mr. Wigglesworth's heart mounted, and 
 for a second the blood swam before his eyes. Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth could see from the window that some- 
 thing was impending. 
 
 " Don't you do it 1 " she screamed, throwing open 
 the window and leaning far out. " Oh, Ellery, don't 
 don't, I beg of you 1 "she wailed, as that gentleman 
 spat on his hands ; " don't run through that fire with 
 your new trousers on, and your others not yet 
 mended, and me " 
 
 70
 
 Ran Through 
 
 It only required these expostulatory words of his 
 wife. 
 
 " Stand back there ! " he shouted, " and I '11 show 
 ye how to skate ! " 
 
 With a mighty up-gathering of strength, Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth started forward. He ran heavily, for he 
 was somewhat older than when he first set out in life, 
 and the soggy ground yielded considerably to his 
 slippers. Halfway up to the fire both slippers pulled 
 off, but uplifted on the shouts of the populace, the 
 valiant Wigglesworth pressed steadily forward. He 
 realized, when too late, that he had taken too long a 
 start, and his wind was leaving him, but with a 
 superhuman effort he made a final dash, and just 
 then one of the hoopskirts which had either writhed 
 out of the fire or been cunningly laid in the path by 
 the boy with two front teeth missing, threw itself 
 about Mr. Wigglesworth's flying feet, and, uttering 
 a merry cry, climbed rapidly up both his legs and 
 remained there. 
 
 Under the broad glare of the footlights the spec- 
 tators instantly discerned this transformation scene, 
 and thought that Mr. Wigglesworth designed it as a 
 special costumed act of ground and lofty tumbling, 
 and their applause tore a ragged hole in the heavens. 
 It is said by persons who have tried it, and failed, 
 that when a man is drowning for the first time, 
 thoughts that he never before has had brought to his 
 attention flash upon his mind with incredible swift- 
 ness, and it was the same way with Mr. Wiggles-
 
 Ran Through. 
 
 worth. He felt the hoopskirt's shining coils about his 
 tired legs, he felt its hot breath hissing in his ears, 
 he saw the mocking flames ahead of him, and then 
 with a mighty whoop he was projected into the air 
 and went shrieking and plowing across the blazing 
 crater of Vesuvius. 
 
 "Oh, is he dead is he dead!" sobbed Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, as they led her husband across the 
 street, the hoopskirt still clinging to him in spots and 
 one side of his face entirely dewhiskered : " oh, 
 Ellery, speak and tell me " 
 
 " You get out of that window I " her husband 
 screamed, waving his scorched arms in the air and 
 his countenance distorted with streaks of soot: 
 " what ye balancing up and down there for, with me 
 perishing here in the street ? I told ye you'd make a 
 fool of yourself 'fore the day ended, and you Ve 
 done it, getting me to act the monkey with your old 
 brush fires 1 Open that door d'ye hear? 'fore I 
 come up there and twitch ye through that window 
 and knock some sense into that holler place other 
 people keep their brains in 1 " 
 
 And the neighbors, who stood outside listening, 
 said that it was more than an hour, before the sound 
 of rumbling thunder died away inside the house.
 
 Chapter VII 
 
 HCKV Mrs. Wiggles- 
 <worth Drove Some 
 Neat Bargains
 
 "The first zip of water caught the fat man in the neck. 
 Page 80.
 
 CHAPTER VII. How Mrs. Wtgglesworth 
 Drove Some Neat Bargains. 
 
 ' f >| O right away," warned Mrs. Wiggles- 
 m worth in a falsetto voice. " I don't 
 
 ^ '... want them, and I won't have you track- 
 
 ^ ^ ing mud all over my clean steps ! " 
 And she slammed the door. 
 
 "There!" she said, triumphantly, coming back to 
 the sitting-room, " I've got rid of him, I hope." 
 
 "Who's that?" Mr. Wigglesworth inquired over 
 the top of his paper. 
 
 "One of those horrid old peddlers," his wife re- 
 turned, "selling things out of a basket, and then 
 when your back is turned snatching an overcoat off 
 the rack and running away. But I sent him flying, 
 you better believe 1" she concluded, with an air of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Humph ! " growled Mr. Wigglesworth, rattling his 
 paper, " I s'pose ye think that's smart ? " 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth," his wife retorted, " do you 
 want a tall man with whiskers to come right in here 
 and sell me eight yards of Irish lace, and while I am 
 gone upstairs for the money have him steal a pair of 
 real Wedgewood vases off " 
 
 "What's the use of acting paralyzed?" Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth broke in. " You women folks are all alike. 
 Don't you s'pose these men who go around peddling 
 have to work hard for a living ? I never saw such 
 
 75
 
 Ho e w Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 
 heartlessness," he continued, his voice mounting until 
 it took on quite a declamatory flavor, that gave him a 
 great sense of satisfaction. "These men are poor, 
 maybe have large families to support, health gone, 
 likely, and when they come to your doors, begging a 
 little trade to save them from the poorhouse, you 
 womenfolks set the dogs on 'em 1 I say its scan- 
 dalous ! " 
 
 By this time Mr. Wigglesworth had worked himself 
 into a fine passion of eloquence, and he wished the 
 kitchen door was open, so that Imogene might get the 
 full effect of it. 
 
 "Why I'm sure "Mrs. Wigglesworth began. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you're sure," bullied her husband, 
 " you 're the surest one on the street, you are. Come 
 in bottles, you do, one dollar each, or six for five, and 
 warranted, or money refunded. By cutting a coupon 
 out of your wrapper anybody can guess on the weight 
 of the Washington Monument. That's what you 
 are 1 " Mr. Wigglesworth thought he rarely had 
 known himself to be in such a keen flow of argument 
 and he hated to let up with it, but it was office time, 
 and his wife had sunk upon the lounge, silenced 
 and abashed by the flashing of his trenchant humor. 
 
 Two days later, it will be remembered, the ther- 
 mometer suddenly rushed upstairs, and with a loud 
 snort blew a vent-hole through its upper story. At 
 the noon hour Mr. Wigglesworth plunged into the 
 front hall, mopping his red face with a handkerchief. 
 
 " What ails ye ? " he yelled, rushing into the parlor 
 76
 
 Drove Some Neat Bargains 
 
 and throwing up a window; "trying to make a 
 vacuum, ain't ye, to take the place of that head of 
 yours ? " 
 
 " I beg of you, Ellery," pleaded his wife, " not to let 
 all the dust in on this clean carpet." 
 
 " Carpet nothing ! " puffed Mr. Wiggleswprth, 
 shoving up the other window ; " s'pose I want to be 
 fried to death in my own house? Hottest day in 
 eight years, I tell ye, and me sasshaying round here 
 in my winter flannels, just to oblige you!" Saying 
 this, he shot up the front stairs. 
 
 " Where's my summer clothes ? " he shouted, as he 
 hurried out of the room. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth said to the minister's wife after- 
 ward that at those words she felt herself to be glued 
 to the lounge. There was a great noise overhead of 
 trampling feet, doors slammed, chairs appeared to tip 
 over with loud reports, and presently a dark purple 
 streak of remarks peculiar to Mr. Wigglesworth began 
 to find its way down the stairs and float out at the 
 open window. People on their way to dinner stopped 
 to listen, and a fat man in his shirt sleeves started up 
 the steps as though to offer assistance. 
 
 "Ain't ye coming up here today?" bellowed Mr. 
 Wigglesworth to his wife ; " think I Ve got nothing 
 to do but paw around in trunks with their lids off ? 
 Where's that gray suit ? " 
 
 Weak and tottery as she was, Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 had to mount the stairs, tightly clutching the bannis- 
 ter rail. 
 
 77
 
 How Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 
 "Where's that white vest of mine?" her husband 
 called, as soon as she rose to the surface ; " what 's got 
 into ye, hiding my things this way ? Don't tell me I 
 didn't hang up a gray suit in this closet last Fall, 
 'cause I know better. Where Ve ye stuffed that white 
 vest ? " 
 
 The rooms and closets of the second floor were 
 burst open like a paper bag of flour dropped from the 
 roof of a shot tower. Only those familiar with the 
 grand energy of Mr. Wiggles worth's character can 
 understand how in so short a time that gentleman 
 could upset so many trunks and boxes and pull the 
 knobs off thirteen bureau drawers. 
 
 " What 's the matter with ye ? " he cried, glaring at 
 his wife, who gazed on the ruins with a look of dis- 
 may. " Can 't ye answer a civil question ? Got any 
 fixed reason for not telling what's become of them 
 flannel pants ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth gave a mighty swallow. 
 
 "I sold them," she said in a faint voice. 
 
 " You what ? " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, his face 
 turning rigid. 
 
 "To a peddler man, you know," his wife ex- 
 plained in a weak voice ; " he came along, you know, 
 after we had had talked it over don't you 
 remember ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I remember," Mr. Wigglesworth made 
 reply, in a voice of unnatural calmness. " I recall it 
 perfectly. Wha 'd ye get for them flannel pants ? " 
 
 "A beautiful little statuette," Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 answered; "of of Psyche, I think." 
 
 78
 
 Drove Some Neat Bargains 
 
 "Ah, indeed!" her husband said, in an excess of 
 affected pleasure. " And that elegant summer vest 
 for that you received " 
 
 "The most exquisite matchsafe," Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth replied with enthusiasm. "The man said him- 
 self it was worth twice as much as the vest." 
 
 "Oh, of course," Mr. Wigglesworth assented, "he 
 knew. Anybody that 's a judge of matchsafes knows 
 they 're out of sight 'longside any old vests belonging 
 to Wigglesworth. And what about the gray suit? 
 Let 's hear about the great commercial transaction of 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth in gray suits. Tremendous bar- 
 gains in gray suits at Mrs. Wiggles worth's. Gray 
 suits marked down to make room for new spring 
 goods. Call on Mrs. Wigglesworth before going else- 
 where." 
 
 "Why " Mrs. Wigglesworth began twin- 
 ing her fingers, "it it was an old suit, you know 
 you'd worn it two summers, Ellery." 
 
 "Yes I know," her husband allowed, nodding 
 his head confidentially at the bureau, as his wife 
 hesitated. 
 
 "And so you see," she went on, "it being old, 
 and so worn, and the man saying the style had 
 changed, you know and all that I I threw 
 it in." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth nodded again at the bureau. 
 He nodded several times. 
 
 "She threw it in," he repeated to the bureau. 
 " Mrs. Wigglesworth, my wife, threw it in." 
 
 79
 
 Drove Some Neat bargains 
 
 Then he turned and walked out of the room. 
 There was a fixed look of calmness on his counte- 
 nance such as people wear just before they go crazy. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth walked down the stairs. For 
 fifteen minutes the fat man in shirt sleeves had stood 
 at the front door, violently ringing the bell. Mr. 
 Wigglesworth flung the door open. 
 
 " Beg pardon," the fat man said in a husky voice, 
 "but hearing a loud noise inside, we thought there 
 might be trouble, so I made bold to " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth pushed past the fat man, caught 
 up the lawn hose and turned on a full head. The 
 first zip of water caught the fat man in the neck, just 
 as he was boosting himself sidewise down the top 
 step, and as he fetched a whoop and slid to the fence 
 on his back, pawing the air madly, Mr. Wigglesworth 
 was able to soak his clothes so full of water that it 
 took four of the stoutest bystanders to hoist the fat 
 man to his feet. 
 
 Bo
 
 Chapter VIII 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Took Off the 
 Outside Window
 
 "She dashed after the barrel and falling upon it with a 
 hysterical cry rolled completely over it." Page 88.
 
 CHAPTER Vlll. How Wigglesworth Took 
 off the Outside Window 
 
 " ~T| > LLERY, " said Mrs. Wigglesworth, mildly, 
 
 SL^j " do you realize that this is the last of 
 . June and we haven't got our storm 
 -* ** windows off yet?" 
 
 "Well, why ain't we?" retorted Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, sawing at his steak. 
 
 " I Ve spoken to you ever so many times about it, 
 you know, " pursued his wife, " and you always put 
 me off." 
 
 " Huh ! returned Mr. Wigglesworth, " you talk as 
 if you were a suit of winter flannels. " 
 
 " I wish they could be taken down, " sighed his 
 wife; "all the neighbors are laughing at us. Only 
 yesterday Mrs. Todley asked me if we were going to 
 use them this summer instead of screens. " 
 
 " Ya-a-a-h-h ! " sneered Mr. Wigglesworth, flinging 
 down the napkin without folding it, as a man will 
 when mad, "what ye s'pose I care about your 
 meddling old neighbors? Todley better pay that $25 
 he owes me for last year's coal bill before his wife 
 goes to putting on so many airs. I hate such 
 people. " 
 
 As his voice rose into a high tone of indignation 
 Mr. Wigglesworth accompanied it out of the room. 
 
 "I don't see any outside windows, " he called back 
 
 83
 
 How Wiggles < worth 
 
 from the sitting room. "What ails ye, anyway? 
 What ye fussing so about ? " 
 
 "Why, that's just it, " fluttered his wife, appearing 
 in the door ; " the inside ones are so dirty you can't 
 see through them. That's why I want the outside 
 ones down, so I can get cleaned up before Aunt 
 Emmeline comes. " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth received the reference to Aunt 
 Emmeline with a sour countenance. 
 
 " Where's the screw driver ? " he abruptly de- 
 manded. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth laid a finger reflectively to her 
 lip and put her head a trifle on one side. 
 
 " Let me see, " she said, slowly, " the last time I 
 saw it you were driving that nail in the no, that 
 wasn't it, of course, " she hastily added, " for you had 
 the hammer that time and knocked your thumbnail 
 off don't you remember, Ellery when the minister 
 and his wife came in at the very moment you were 
 screaming those dreadful words just like the circus 
 men use, Ellery you remember." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth gave an impatient roll to his head. 
 
 "What ye talking about now?" he cried ; "what 
 ye running on like that for? Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 the Human Phonograph. Drop a nickel and hear a 
 piece spoke. Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight by 
 special request." 
 
 " Oh, I know where it is ! " cried that lady, clapping 
 her hands ; " Imogene had it last night shelling those 
 lobsters. That 's where it is." 
 
 8 4
 
 Took off the Outside Window 
 
 It was a screw driver such as innocent neighbors 
 are apt to borrow and bring back the next day with 
 several of their knuckles missing. The rusty blade 
 was blunted at the point and where it was let into 
 the handle there was a brass band gone, so that the 
 thing would unjoint when you least expected it and 
 write its autograph on the back of your hand. Hired 
 girls had been known to attack a tomato can with 
 that screw driver and shortly afterwards come scream- 
 ing into the front room with both wrists done up and 
 a demand for their back wages. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth regarded it with intense disgust. 
 
 "Ain't that a daisy of a screw driver!" he ejacu 
 lated, as he flung it out of doors. 
 
 " Gimme a barrel here, can't ye ? " he said, calling 
 to his wife. " Can't ye help out a little instead of 
 standing up on that verandah trying to look wise? 
 How ye s'pose I 'm going to unscrew these windows 
 from the ground ? Think I 'm an extension fire 
 ladder, don't ye ? Wigglesworth, the world-renowned 
 giraffe man. That 's what you probably think." 
 
 Accelerated by this flowing tide of sarcasm Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth hastened to fetch from the shed the 
 last emptied flour barrel. 
 
 " It 's awfully heavy, Ellery," she panted, for the 
 sun shone blithely and there was very little air astir. 
 
 " Poh ! " returned her husband, " don't find so 
 much fault at having to do a little work. Can't any- 
 body ask you to do the least bit of a job but 
 you grumble and try to get out of it. Hold on 
 
 85
 
 Ho<w Wiggles'worth 
 
 there, can't ye ? " he yelled, as he essayed to climb 
 onto the barrel and that important member of society 
 began to buck ominously. 
 
 "What shall I do?" asked Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Do ? " shouted her husband, who was crouched at 
 the top of the barrel in a very unpoetic attitude, " do 
 anything but stand there in the sun with your mouth 
 open letting your teeth warp. What ye s'pose I 
 want ye to do, jump through a hoop ? Catch hold of 
 the barrel and steady it, that 's what you do, 'fore I 
 fall over and mash my brains on the sidewalk." 
 
 The sun, after resting a few minutes behind a re- 
 freshing cloud, now came forward and attached Mr. 
 Wigglesworth's garments permanently to that gentle- 
 man. Noting that it had caught Mr. Wigglesworth 
 on the most favorable side of the house it laughed 
 softly and bored him through with some of its most 
 insinuating rays. Large, circular globules of perspira- 
 tion appeared upon Mr. Wigglesworth's forehead, 
 glittered there for an instant with the iridescence of 
 the sun, and then fell to the ground with a low, sizzling 
 sound. 
 
 Hereupon the woman next door put up her window 
 and leaned far out of it, like Barbara Frietchie. 
 
 " What is Mr. Wigglesworth doing ? " she called in 
 her sweetest tone. 
 
 It was at the very moment that the screw driver, 
 again slipping out of the rusty screw, had carried away 
 the knuckle of Mr. Wigglesworth's thumb. 
 
 86
 
 Took off the Outside Window 
 
 " Tell her none of her business ! " he answered, 
 thickly, with his thumb in his mouth. 
 
 "He's taking down the outside windows," Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth cried back, raising her voice. 
 
 " I thought it was about time," commented the 
 woman next door. "You seem to be having hard 
 work. Shan't I come over and help you ? " 
 
 " If she does I'll knock a hatchet into her," hoarsely 
 muttered Mr. Wigglesworth with a malevolence that 
 made his wife's flesh creep. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth toiled on, his blood mounting to 
 a point that hospital doctors consider dangerous. 
 " Ah ! ha ! " said the sun peering down on him, and 
 stirring up its fires anew. " Oh ho ! " it said, shaking 
 its sides, " a merry fellow this, who leaves his outside 
 windows on till after I have returned from my winter 
 visit in Florida ! Truly a mad wag he ! " and it smote 
 Mr. Wigglesworth in the back with some of the rays 
 that Zuni Indians are said to cook meat with. 
 
 Mr. Wiggles worth's rage mounted with his blood. 
 
 " Gosh-flummux the blamed old rusty screws 1 " he 
 would scream, pausing a moment to nurse his bleed- 
 ing hands, while the shudders of Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 shook the very barrel on which he stood, with knees 
 bent at a painful angle, and from over the fence came 
 wafting the still, small voice of the woman next door, 
 fraught with advice, and at which Mr. Wigglesworth 
 would give utterance to other things that he had not 
 previously intended for publication. 
 
 But now the window hung by its last tottering 
 
 87
 
 Haw Wiggles e a>orth 
 
 screw and Mr. Wigglesworth yanked at it viciously. 
 
 "What ails the gash-flummuxed old thing?" he 
 shrieked as it still clung fondly to its winter home. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth confessed afterwards to the 
 minister that he had forgotten the barrel, else he 
 wouldn't have stamped upon it so savagely. Probably 
 one hundred thousand men at different times in the 
 world's history have stood up on barrels and had the 
 head sink out from under them, but doubtless, none 
 ever did it with more suddenness than Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, or while balancing a fifty-pound outside window 
 in the air. 
 
 Down the driveway the barrel rolled, and at every 
 jolt there were nails that stuck still deeper into Mr. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 " Take it off I Let me up ! " he roared, lashing out 
 wildly with his legs and arms, whereat the barrel 
 rolled the faster and inserted its nails into Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth with deeper emphasis. 
 
 "Stop the barrel 1 " screamed the woman next 
 door. 
 
 Then Mrs. Wigglesworth aroused from her'state of 
 paralysis. Uttering a shrill feminine scream, with 
 out-stretched arms, she dashed after the barrel, and 
 falling upon it with an hysterical cry rolled completely 
 over it, while the barrel, giving vent to a loud note of 
 triumph, passed relentlessly on and ground her pros- 
 trate figure into the soft mud of the driveway. 
 
 First the neighbors got Mrs. Wigglesworth on her 
 feet and found both her sidecombs. 
 
 88
 
 Took off the Outside Window 
 
 "Oh, where is my darling Ellery?" she wailed, 
 wringing her hands. 
 
 They discovered him after a time, wandering aim- 
 lessly about behind the stable, hunting for a screw- 
 driver and muttering incoherently. He still wore the 
 barrel, and when a sympathizing carpenter offered to 
 take it off, Mr. Wigglesworth burst into tears and 
 refused to let anybody touch him. 
 
 They then saw how intense the rays of the sun had 
 been. 
 
 89
 
 Chapter IX 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Rode Horseback
 
 " At every third bound of the horse, a bound shorter and 
 more skippy than the other two, the rider would go into the 
 air.'' Page 97.
 
 CHAPTER iX H<yw Wiggles<worth Rode 
 Horseback 
 
 f~ ~"^HE minister's wife was here this after- 
 noon," said Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 " Humph, " grunted Mr. Wiggles- 
 
 - worth, " what kind of a show is she 
 
 getting up now to help raise her husband's salary ? " 
 
 "They're going on a little family picnic to Pine 
 Hill tomorrow, " said Mrs. Wigglesworth, hesitatingly, 
 " and want us to go with them. I told them I would 
 ask you, but I didn't think you'd care to go. " 
 
 "That's it I " cried her husband, jabbing his knife 
 savagely into a biscuit, " try to keep me out of all 
 the fun you can. Keep Wigglesworth tied up in the 
 office earning money so you can swell around in 
 society, wearing clothes that's the way. I hate 
 such selfishness. " 
 
 " She said, " Mrs. Wigglesworth went on, " that I 
 could ride in the carryall with them, and that they 
 would borrow Mr. Bimley's horse for you to ride 
 if if you thought you could, " she added, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " Thought I could ? " echoed Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 scornfully. " Why not ? Ain't I as well able to ride 
 a horse as any of your family? It may be some 
 time since I was on a saddle, but I don't have to 
 have none of you nor your stiff-necked ministers to 
 show me how. " 
 
 93
 
 Ho e w Wiggles e worth 
 
 The woman next door looking out of window the 
 following morning, saw Mrs. Wigglesworth loading 
 into the carriage, along with the minister and his 
 wife, three baskets, four children and other concomi- 
 tants of a family picnic. 
 
 " Rejoiced to see you, Brother Wigglesworth, " ex- 
 claimed the minister, heartily, as Mr. Wigglesworth 
 came down the walk. "Nature is unusually pro- 
 pitious for our little outing and our hearts should 
 sing with gladness. " 
 
 "That's so," Mr. Wigglesworth acknowledged. 
 " Where 's my horse ? " 
 
 At that instant a boy appeared, towing a long, 
 gaunt animal, once white in color, with a mere wisp 
 of a mane and a tail of bobbish character. He was 
 a horse who held up his head and regarded the world 
 with suspicion. 
 
 " Whoa 1 " yelled Mr. Wigglesworth, as the horse 
 tried to step on him. "What ye trying to do?" he 
 said to the boy, threateningly. " Why don't ye hold 
 on to that bridle, same's you're hired to? Whoa, 
 hossy, whoa!" he said in a soothing tone. "Now, 
 then, stand still and I '11 get on." 
 
 But when Mr. Wigglesworth took hold of the 
 saddle and raised a foot to the stirrup the gaunt 
 horse gave a little jump to one side and breathed 
 heavily. 
 
 "Whoa!" shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, as loudly 
 as he cared to with the minister present. "Why 
 don't ye hold the horse still ? " he said savagely to 
 the boy at the end of the bridle. 
 
 94
 
 Rode Horseback 
 
 "How kin I hold her still?" retorted the boy, 
 about whom the horse now went revolving, closely 
 followed by Mr. Wigglesworth. "Git on her back 
 an' she '11 stand still." 
 
 " Don't ye give me none of your sarse," threatened 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, glaring at the boy, " or I '11 take 
 and knock the head off'n you. Whoa whoa, good 
 hossy I " 
 
 Several times Mr. Wigglesworth got a toe in the 
 stirrup, but the instant he essayed to lift himself, the 
 horse would flaunt her little bud of a tail and waltz 
 skittishly away, while Mr. Wigglesworth would come 
 heavily to the ground and the boy at the end of the 
 reins would feel his arms yank out of their sockets. 
 When this performance had been repeated for the 
 twentieth time they gave heed to the advice which 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth had for several minutes earnestly 
 been promulgating. 
 
 "Fetch Ellery one of the kitchen chairs," she 
 called, and the minister, solicitous for the success of 
 the picnic dinner, went and got it. 
 
 " Now," he suggested, " perhaps I can assist you, 
 Brother Wigglesworth. If you will stand in the 
 chair, the boy and I will push the horse up to you, 
 and, doubtless, you can then mount with celerity." 
 
 It wasn't a very horsemanlike proceeding, but the 
 forenoon was wasting and Mr. Wigglesworth, with a 
 hot, red face, angrily agreed to it. 
 
 " I '11 take it out of him when I get him on the 
 road," he muttered with an awful air of revenge, as 
 he stood up in the chair. 
 
 95
 
 Ho e w Wiggles c worth 
 
 It was a successful manoeuvre. Flanking the 
 gaunt steed the minister pushed him gently toward 
 the waiting Wigglesworth, who slipped a leg over the 
 saddle before the astonished animal realized the confi- 
 dence game that was being played upon him. Just at 
 that instant Mrs. Wigglesworth had climbed out of 
 the carriage in an earnest desire to lend assistance. 
 Flinging his head around with a little gust of disap- 
 pointment, the horse saw her close upon him, waving 
 her parasol, and with a loud snort he waltzed across 
 to the opposite sidewalk, Mr. Wigglesworth clutching 
 wildly at the scanty mane and poking his feet madly 
 about in vain search of the stirrups. 
 
 "What ye doing?" he yelled, as the horse fluttered 
 nervously against the fence ; " what kind of a fool you 
 trying to act out this time ? " 
 
 " I did n't mean to do anything," answered Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, abashed and frightened ; " I was only 
 going to help, and the horse saw me and and 
 jumped." 
 
 " Well, what ye expect ? " cried Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 angrily. " What ye s'pose he 'd do when he saw you ? 
 Wonder he had n't dashed my lungs out on a telephone 
 pole get out 1 keep away, can't ye ? " he yelled, as 
 his wife came nearer, uttering some coaxing phrases, 
 and putting out a hand to soothe the agitated beast. 
 
 " Whoa, good little hossy," she said in sugary tones. 
 
 " Get away ! " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, as the 
 horse, unwon by these blandishments, ground his 
 rider's leg against a fence post. " What ye doing with 
 that blamed old red umbrella put it up, can't ye?" 
 
 96
 
 Rode Horseback 
 
 There are many inscrutable things in this life, and 
 Mr. Wigglesworth always has maintained that his 
 wife is one of them. When he shouted for her to 
 put up the red sunshade that she was nervously 
 fluttering in her hand, she put it up, only she did it 
 the other way. As its circular form flamed forth with 
 a crackling noise, the gaunt steed, already over- 
 wrought with the confusion and loud shouting, 
 gathered his feet under him and bolted around the 
 corner. 
 
 Summer visitors out for a morning stroll were sur- 
 prised to see a long, bony horse flashing by, wearing 
 a rider who, apparently, was unaccustomed to that 
 style of locomotion. The rider's feet were thrust 
 through the stirrups to their ankles and his trousers 
 were worked up nearly to the knee. At every third 
 bound of the horse, a bound shorter and more skippy 
 than the other two, the rider would go into the air, so 
 that persons of quick vision, standing behind, could 
 look under him and catch a glimpse of the town 
 clock. Then he would come down again, sometimes 
 on the horse's neck and sometimes on the pommel of 
 the saddle. 
 
 After this section of the parade had gone by, and 
 quiet was settling down, the by-standers were again 
 startled with an apparition of a large, old-fashioned 
 carryall, filled with white-faced children, lunch baskets 
 and three grown persons. A clerical-looking gentle- 
 man in spectacles, and without a hat, was urging for- 
 ward the astonished-looking horse, spurring him on 
 
 97
 
 Rode Horseback 
 
 with loud words of encouragement, and staring stead- 
 fastly ahead with a countenance upon which horror 
 sat, while a fainty-looking woman clung on the rear 
 seat and aimlessly branished a red umbrella. 
 
 98
 
 Chapter X 
 
 H&w Wiggle&worth 
 Played Croquet
 
 " At every blow, struck with terrific violence, a wire w'cket 
 would go sailing through the air." Page /oj.
 
 CHAPTER X. Hov> Wigglesworth Played 
 Croquet 
 
 f ~"^ELL ye what it is," Mr. Wigglesworth 
 puffed as he labored buttoning his vest, 
 " I'm getting too stout. What I need's 
 exercise." 
 
 "Why, I don't think you're any too stout," his 
 wife returned through a mouthful of shell hairpins ; 
 " I think you look nice." 
 
 "Course," sniffed Mr. Wigglesworth, "that's the 
 way a woman looks at it. Want me to swell up with 
 apoplexy, don 't ye, and have an effusion on the brain ? 
 Be fun, you think, to have a doctor come and let out 
 two quarts of blood on the carpet, and then charge 
 eighty dollars for showing me how to get it 
 back again. That's the way Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 economizes." 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth, toiling up 
 the steps at noon and setting down a long flat box ; 
 "there's something that s got life in it." 
 
 " Why, Ellery, what is it ? " said his wife, giving a 
 little scream and backing away. 
 
 " Don 't shy," grinned Mr. Wigglesworth ; " t won 't 
 bite. It's a croquet set," he added triumphantly, 
 throwing open the lid and disclosing the brightly 
 painted balls and mallets. 
 
 " O-o-o-o-h-h ! " cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, clapping 
 her hands, " how nice 1 And will we play with it ? "
 
 How Wiggtesworth 
 
 " Play with it 1 " mimicked Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 "wha'd ye think we'd do; hang it on the parlor 
 wall ? Might wear it to the Governor's reception, I 
 s 'pose. Or mebbe the hired girl would like to stuff 
 a turkey with it she's tried most everything else." 
 
 Finishing his dinner to the accompaniment of this 
 style of comment, Mr. Wigglesworth went out on the 
 lawn and adjusted the wire hoops according to 
 diagram. 
 
 " Best exercise in the world," he boasted, waving a 
 mallet in the air. " Old Wetherbee told me he re- 
 duced his weight nine pounds in two weeks. Come 
 down here 1 " he called to his wife, " and let 's have a 
 game." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth under her husband's direction, 
 adjusted the ball. 
 
 " Do I knock it through this first wicket first ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Course, " answered Mr. Wigglesworth ; "think ye 
 had to knock it through the last one first ? Might 
 try to get it through the seventh one fourth, I s'pose. 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth's new rules for croquet, got up 
 by herself. " 
 
 Putting her tongue between her teeth Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth struck smartly at the ball and dug a hole in 
 the lawn. Quickly recovering, she dealt a second 
 stroke, avoided the ball and tore the wicket out of 
 the ground. 
 
 " That's the way, " howled Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 "That's the way to go through the wickets." 
 
 102
 
 Played Croquet 
 
 He plucked the bent wire from his wife's mallet 
 and thrust it back in the ground. 
 
 " Lemme show ye, " he said in a tone of import- 
 ance, while Mrs. Wigglesworth stood back and ad- 
 justed her hair. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth sent his ball through the first 
 wicket, and nearly got it through the second, and 
 probably would have done so anyway if the minister 
 hadn't leaned over the fence at that moment and dis- 
 concerted his aim. 
 
 " Delightful game, " commented the minister in a 
 kindly tone. " Full of life, requiring the exercise of 
 skill and an admirable discipline for the temper. I 
 am very fond of it. " 
 
 Encouraged by this favorable opinion Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth bunted her ball under the wire arch and struck 
 the ball of her opponent. 
 
 "Bravo!" cried the minister, gleefully clapping 
 his hands ; " an exceedingly clever stroke. Now, you 
 can croquet his ball out of your way." 
 
 The minister ostentatiously explained how this 
 could be done, and under his instruction Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth sent her husband's ball merrily bounding 
 to the far extremity of the lawn, slowly followed by 
 the husband himself. The minister was a finished 
 performer and with his intelligent assistance Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth discovered, a skill that nobody could 
 have believed her capable of. Smoothly she glided 
 through the wickets, tapped pleasantly against the 
 turning stake, and then set her sails for the return 
 
 103
 
 HCKV Wiggles e worth 
 
 home, while anon she would pounce upon her hus- 
 band's opposing forces and rout them out of the 
 county. 
 
 "You think yourself mighty smart, don't ye?" 
 Mr. Wigglesworth growled between his gritted teeth 
 to his wife, when the minister's back was turned. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth suffered a little smile of 
 triumph to momentarily flicker into her face, and at 
 that the blood of Wigglesworth boiled over. 
 
 " Who 's playing this game, anyway ? " he snorted, 
 glaring at the minister. 
 
 "Why, Ellery!" expostulated Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "I can beat the whole box and dice of yel" 
 ejaculated her husband angrily, as, with a lucky 
 stroke, the balls collided. The full knowledge of the 
 indignities heaped upon him in the game surged 
 through his recollection, and he trod the balls into 
 close conjunction. 
 
 " Look out, there 1 " he warned, waving the minister 
 to one side. 
 
 Then he put his foot on the ball, lifted his mallet 
 aloft and smote with a strength born of long-bottled- 
 up anger. The mallet shrieked through its circle, 
 there was a momentary agitation of the atmosphere, 
 and Mr. Wigglesworth was rolling among the wickets 
 with his foot in both hands and a connected stream 
 of yells issuing from his lips, such as the minister 
 said afterward he could never have believed the 
 human lungs were equal to producing. 
 
 " Wow wow wow ! " howled Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 
 104
 
 Played Croquet 
 
 curling about the home stake and thrusting one leg 
 up towards the heavens while he still gripped the 
 other foot affectionately. 
 
 " Let me help you, " suggested the minister, lean- 
 ing over him with a \ook of sympathy in his counte- 
 nance. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth straightened out like a cracked 
 spring. 
 
 "You get out of this yard!" he yelled; "don't 
 you think because I go to your church and drop an 
 envelope in the contribution box that you can come 
 around here putting on airs and trying to make my 
 wife think she's the head of the family 1 I want you 
 to understand that I can run this ranch without 
 any " 
 
 With a face frozen in horror the minister already 
 had dashed up the street, and Mr. Wigglesworth 
 turned the battery on his wife. But that lady had 
 discreetly vanished. 
 
 The woman next door saw a man prancing wildly 
 about the lawn, waving above his head a painted 
 mallet. At every blow, struck with terrific violence, 
 a wire wicket would go sailing through the air and 
 rattle the stable roof far distant. The man limped 
 dreadfully, the woman next door declared, and ac- 
 companied each limp with a groan and some remarks 
 that were more than adequate to the occasion. So 
 there can be no doubt that it was Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 
 105
 
 Chapter XI 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Celebrated the 
 Fourth
 
 " ' Me and the Dodley twins used to stay out all night firing 
 guns and making more noise than a horse could haul.'" 
 Page no.
 
 CHAPTER XI. How Wigglesworth Cele- 
 bated the Fourth. 
 
 BOOM ! said the cannon. 
 Jangle rangle crash 1 went the 
 church bells crazily. 
 Fitz crackle b-r-r-r-r bang ! that 
 was the small boy with the giant cracker. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth lifted an inflamed face from the 
 pillow and glared about the apartment. The hair 
 that by day he wore carefully brushed up over his 
 bald place hung in a limp and dish-rag condition. 
 
 " Oh, dear 1 " wailed Mrs. Wigglesworth, " I have n't 
 slept a wink since twelve o'clock." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth dashed his fists savagely into the 
 pillow. 
 
 "If I had them boys here," he cried in a hoarse 
 scream, "I'd take and knock their heads off! " 
 
 Everybody feels that way during the pale morning 
 hours of Independence Day, but with the arrival of 
 breakfast and the momentary cessation of hostilities 
 softer sentiments are apt to prevail. Even Mr. 
 Wigglesworth felt the asperity of his nature soften- 
 ing as Imogene brought in the eggs. 
 
 "After all, boys have to be boys," he allowed, 
 wiping the egg from his cuff. 
 
 " I don't see why," complained Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 "and my head aching fit to split." 
 
 " Poh 1 " returned her husband, " what 's the use to 
 109
 
 How Wiggles e worth 
 
 complain of a little thing like that ? Ain't ye willing 
 the boys should have some fun once a year without 
 your getting out a headache and trying to break it all 
 up ? What ye want to be so selfish for ? " 
 
 "They didn't act that way when I was young," 
 sighed Mrs. Wiggles worth. Mr. Wigglesworth looked 
 at his wife sternly. 
 
 " When you was young ? " he repeated with great 
 sarcasm ; " pro 'bly not. Impossible to recall what 
 were the manners and customs when Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth was young. Boys went to Sunday School 
 picnics, pro'bly, and drank lemonade out of tin dip- 
 pers. But that wa'n't the way with me," Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth boastfully added ; " me and the Dodley 
 twins used to stay out all night, firing guns and 
 making more noise than a horse could haul." 
 
 " It must have been dreadful," shuddered his wife. 
 
 " Dreadful nothing," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 "it was fun. Aleck Dodley used to cut up the 
 greatest pranks in the world and he had the loudest 
 gun you ever heard." 
 
 " I 'm glad I don't have to hear it now," said Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 "Y-a-a-h-h?" cried her husband, pushing away 
 from the table, " I hate such selfishness. Where 'd 
 this country be, I'd like to know, if King George 
 had had his way ? " 
 
 With which unanswerable bit of logic Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth repaired to the hammock and enjoyed the 
 luxury of a morning holiday cigar. Backward over 
 
 no
 
 Celebrated the Fourth 
 
 the years his thoughts went trailing, and he was a 
 boy again, wandering the country lanes with the 
 mighty Aleck Dodley, splitting the heavens with the 
 loud discharges of their guns, and being brought 
 home in the early morning hours with a large quantity 
 of powder suddenly inserted into his countenance. 
 
 "Boys don't have such times, these days," mut- 
 tered Mr. Wigglesworth to himself; "they're slow. 
 Me and the Dodley twins were smarter than a whole 
 trainload of 'em." 
 
 Pursuing this train of thought it was natural for 
 Mr. Wigglesworth at length to be seized with a 
 mighty suggestion. 
 
 "I'll do it!" he exclaimed, smiting his leg; "I'll 
 show these people how to wind up a Fourth, if they 
 don't know how to open it." 
 
 Shortly afterwards he rushed into the fireworks 
 store and gave an order that caused the proprietor to 
 rub his hands. 
 
 " Shall we send up a man this evening to operate 
 them ? " he asked. 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mr. Wigglesworth a little 
 tartly; "I reckon I can poke off a few fireworks 
 without having to be shown how." 
 
 It was a surprisingly large box that the expressman 
 later unloaded on the lawn. Mr. Wigglesworth 
 walked around it admiringly with his hands in his 
 pockets. 
 
 "Ellery Wigglesworth!" called his wife sternly 
 iron? the parlor window, "you don't mean to tell me 
 
 in
 
 Wiggles t worth 
 
 that those are the fireworks you are going to have ? " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth kept on whistling. 
 
 "If you've any friends that want to see the 
 biggest exhibition in town," he said presently, "you 
 better trot 'em around." 
 
 The blazing sun in due season sank down the 
 west and night brought out "the stars, also a large 
 quantity of boys who roosted on the Wigglesworth 
 fence and prepared for any emergency, while the 
 verandah became a bower of lovely women in 
 beautiful summer evening dress. 
 
 " Rejoiced to see you, Brother Wigglesworth, " 
 said the minister, arriving at that moment with his 
 wife ; " we received your invitation and hastened 
 hither with much alacrity. It is eminently fitting, " 
 added the minister, surveying the scene and practicing 
 a gesture for the following Sunday, " that we should 
 in this manner testify to the bravery of our fore- 
 fathers in in throwing off England's er gall- 
 ing er er galling " 
 
 " Yoke, " suggested his wife. 
 
 "Precisely," said the minister, "yoke the very 
 word I was about to employ certainly. " 
 
 " We'll open the show, " called Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 striding out upon the lawn with a becoming air of 
 importance, "with a sky rocket. She's going to rise 
 more 'n a mile, so keep your eye on her. " 
 
 He stood the rocket up and laid a match to it. 
 Then another match. Then another. 
 
 " What ails these miserable matches ? " snapped 
 
 112
 
 Celebrated the Fourth 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, as he scratched yet another, 
 which also burned itself out in harmless contact with 
 the rocket. Mr. Wigglesworth flung it to the 
 ground. 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth ! " cried his wife from the 
 verandah, "you ought to be ashamed to say such 
 things, with all these people here ! " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth mashed the rocket with a kick. 
 
 " Now see if you will go up 1 " he said, grinding it 
 into the lawn. 
 
 Then he picked another rocket from the box and 
 made a second attempt. 
 
 " Ellery, " called Mrs. Wigglesworth with a tone of 
 wisdom, " Mr. Wetherbee says you 're trying to light 
 it at the wrong end. " 
 
 Under the phosphorescence of the burning match 
 the glaring countenance that Mr. Wigglesworth 
 turned toward the verandah was positively awful. 
 
 "Whose fireworks are these, I'd like to know?" 
 he growled savagely. 
 
 But when he put the next match to the rocket's 
 under side it promptly spirted a stream of hot sparks 
 on his trousers, and rising with a siren scream dashed 
 itself with great violence against the neighboring 
 house, painting a huge picture of misery on its pure 
 white side. 
 
 " Don't you send any more of those fireworks over 
 here ! " screamed the woman next door, putting her 
 head still farther out of the window. " You'll have 
 to pay for this, and don't you think you won't 1 " 
 
 "3
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 "Ellery," called Mrs. Wigglesworth, in the tone 
 that women love to assume when correcting their 
 husbands before company, "Mr Wetherbee says if 
 you want him to he'll come down there and show you 
 how." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth at that moment was doing some- 
 thing with a roman candle. He had been for some 
 time holding a match to its reluctant fuse, and at last 
 to encourage it had blown upon it vigorously, so that 
 the fuse, in waking to sudden action, had singed off 
 Mr. Wigglesworth's eyebrows and partially cooked 
 the whole front of his face. Now he was hopping 
 about the lawn in an eccentric way, trying to avoid 
 the showering sparks, while the balls began to shoot 
 out of the candle, the first one ploughing off the back 
 hah* of the woman next door, who thereupon fetched 
 such a scream that the window fell down on her, 
 pinning her there with her body out in the night, 
 and the second one setting fire to the minister's wife, 
 who had come out for the first time of the season in 
 a white lawn dress with patriotic red and blue ribbons 
 all over it, and who promptly threw her arms about 
 her husband with a yell that nearly ruptured the ear- 
 drums of that kind-hearted gentleman. 
 
 Then Mr. Wigglesworth's gyrations brought the 
 showering candle into contact with the open box of 
 fireworks and here the pen of the historian stumbles. 
 
 The whole neighborhood was instantly lit up with a 
 blaze of glory, through which appeared the revolving 
 form of Mr. Wigglesworth in the guise of a pyrotech-
 
 Celebrated the Fourth 
 
 nic Liberty enlightening the whole world. Huge sky 
 rockets, that ordinarily would require some ingenuity 
 to arouse into life, went off with instant precipitation, 
 taking the skirts of Mr. Wiggles worth's coat with 
 them. Roman candles of every conceivable color and 
 price blew their contents into the air with drunken 
 screams of mirth, while several miles of pin wheels, 
 uncoiling themselves like the spring of a Waterbury 
 watch, clustered in wreaths of fiery serpents about 
 the proud exhibitor's form and furnished the minister 
 with a realistic text on Sodom and Gomorrah. 
 
 " My darling Ellery ! " screamed Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, tottering forward when the smoke of conflict 
 had rolled away. 
 
 But the legs of his trousers were so chopped off to 
 the knee, his hands were blistered so, an exploding 
 mine had introduced such an amount of Greek fire 
 into his face, and a playful giant cracker had carried 
 away so large a quantity of his Prince Albert whiskers, 
 that it is doubtful if even the Dodley twins could have 
 recognized him.
 
 Chapter XII 
 
 How Wiggles e worth 
 Went Sailing
 
 " ' O-o-h-h, Ellery,' she moaned." Page 123.
 
 CHAPTER XII. Ho<w Wigglesworth Went 
 Sailing 
 
 1 
 
 Presbyterian Sunday-school had settled 
 on a water excursion for its annual 
 Summer outing, and Willie Wiggles- 
 worth came home filled with it. 
 
 "Will I go?" said Mr. Wigglesworth grandly ; "of 
 course I '11 go. And I '11 show ye how to take a day 
 off and enjoy yourself, too. If your mother wants to 
 hang around the house here and be a mummy, she 
 can ; but I don't propose to dry up that way." 
 
 The day was bright and a royal breeze from the 
 northwest filled the air with invigorating life and 
 made the waves of the harbor to dance merrily. The 
 steamboat Daniel Webster, gay in bunting, lay at the 
 wharf while the children swarmed on board and fell 
 over things that were apparently made for land people 
 to fall over. The Wigglesworth party arrived just as 
 the lines were casting off and the paddles entering 
 upon their preliminary churning. Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 had the basket in one hand and Willie in the other, 
 and her face was very red with haste. 
 
 "Hold on there!" called Mr. Wigglesworth, in a 
 voice of authority ; " why don't ye wait till people are 
 aboard?" 
 
 "Why don't you get round the same day?" called 
 back the captain ; " everybody else 's been aboard half 
 an hour." 
 
 119
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 With much shouting and pulling, and some language 
 on the part of the deck hands that did n't accord with 
 the character of the picnic, but seemed in a measure 
 justified, Mrs. Wigglesworth and Willie were hoisted 
 over the rail and Mr. Wigglesworth followed, trailing 
 his white duck trousers over a rope that appeared to 
 have been newly tarred for that purpose. 
 
 "Rejoiced to see you here," said the minister, 
 cordially shaking Mr. Wigglesworth's hand and get- 
 ting some of the tar off it. 
 
 " Yes, I thought I 'd come," responded that gentle- 
 man, gloomily contemplating his trousers. 
 
 " Delightful ? " the minister said with enthusiasm. 
 " We are a large party, and it gladdens my heart to 
 behold the little folks in their fresh young life and 
 exhuberance of spirits." 
 
 "That's so," assented Mr. Wigglesworth, some- 
 what mollified as the salt breeze began playing 
 through his whiskers. 
 
 Gathering speed, the Daniel Webster clave the 
 dancing waters, the flags flaunted bravely, a brass 
 band on the upper deck crashed into the measures of 
 "A Life on the Ocean Wave," and boys of remarkable 
 smallness began to implore their mothers for cake. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, cocking his wide-brimmed straw 
 hat rakishly to one side, started for a stroll about the 
 deck. 
 
 " Don't leave me, Ellery," pleaded his wife, " I beg 
 of you." 
 
 "What's the matter?" querulously replied Mr. 
 
 120
 
 Went Sailing 
 
 Wigglesworth ; " think we 're going to strike on the 
 rocks and go down with all hands? with tar on 
 'em," he added, glowering at his own. 
 
 "These boats are never safe," Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 hinted. 
 
 "I guess this one is," retorted her husband; 
 " they 've got her tied with a rope. What ye 'fraid 
 of, anyway ? Think somebody's going to bore a hole 
 in her and sink her so 's to drown the whole of us 
 and get our life insurance ? " 
 
 "But but suppose it should tip over?" suggested 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, clutching nervously at her hus- 
 band's arm. 
 
 ' Yah 1 " exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth, shaking off 
 her grasp, " what ye think it is, a lamp ? Puts ye in 
 mind of a centre table with a vase on it, prob'ly. 
 Why can't ye act rational, now ye've got me out 
 here ? What's the use coming on an excursion if ye 
 can't enter into the thing and enjoy yourself, same's 
 I do." 
 
 " But I begin to feel sick, Ellery, " expostulated 
 his wife. 
 
 " That's it ! " Mr. Wigglesworth cried ; "that's the 
 way to have a good time. Come out here for fun 
 and then call for a doctor's certificate the first thing. 
 Why didn't ye stay to home ? What's the use break- 
 ing out into society that way and spoiling the whole 
 thing ? " 
 
 Under the soft side of an island, near the mouth 
 of the harbor, the Daniel Webster lay to, while the 
 
 121
 
 Haw Wigglesworth 
 
 excursionists, with merry hearts, opened their baskets 
 and had dinner. Men and women of high character, 
 but low digestive faculties,- flung themselves into a 
 perfect abandon of hard-boiled eggs and pie, while 
 the minister, a special favorite, had something from 
 every basket. Children with jam on their fingers 
 came and took hold of pure white dresses belonging 
 to their maiden aunts and begged for more Washing- 
 ton pie, and got it. Young men in the first faint 
 flush of early moustaches took their third and fourth 
 cream tart, and smearing some of the cream over 
 the moustaches, left it there, and thus established to 
 the eyes of the world what they were striving to 
 accomplish. Maidens, giddy with excitement, spilled 
 uncounted glasses of lemonade into the laps of their 
 lawn dresses and laughed aloud. Even Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, under the excitement of the moment forgot 
 his dyspepsia, and loaded himself to the muzzle. 
 
 Then the Daniel Webster turned prow for home. 
 The local papers have explained how the wind had 
 unexpectedly whipped around to the southeast and 
 gone to prying up the lower waters, over whose 
 crested and yeasty tops the Daniel Webster now 
 went rockily careering, but none of their columns has 
 been equal to adequately setting forth the scenes that 
 the decks of the steamer speedily presented. Nor 
 does the present historian consider himself equal to 
 the emergency. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, his hat blown overboard, and 
 smears of jelly mingled with the tar on his white duck 
 
 122
 
 Went Sailing 
 
 trousers, staggered aft along the deck. Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth saw him coming and tottered forward. 
 
 "O-o-h-h, Ellery!" she moaned, falling limply 
 about his neck. 
 
 " Get out 1 " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, his pale 
 face twitching in passion ; " what ye trying to act out 
 now?" 
 
 "Oh, I feel so so sick! " groaned his wife. 
 
 " Sick ! " snorted Mr. Wigglesworth, struggling to 
 get free, " what 's that got to do with it ? Wha 'd ye 
 s 'pose when ye came out here ? Did n't I tell ye how 
 'twould be ? Ever know me to miss it ? Le 'go my 
 neck ! " 
 
 Saying this, he wrenched himself loose and his wife 
 fell in a huddle on the deck, while the impetus shot 
 Mr. Wigglesworth under a seat, where he curled up 
 against a pile of life preservers, and stayed there, giv- 
 ing utterance to a variety of groans that nobody in 
 the whole ship's company could equal, though every- 
 body tried, and some of them claiming afterwards, 
 out of a spirit of church loyalty, that the minister 
 came quite near it. 
 
 " You 're a nice hand," growled Mr. Wigglesworth 
 as they were being drawn home in a hack, "to go 
 round getting up picnics, aint ye ? " 
 
 "I I hadn't any idea it would be so rough," 
 moaned his wife. " But I thought you were sick, too." 
 
 " Hoh ! " sniffed Mr. Wigglesworth ; " there was n't 
 anything much the matter with me. ' F I had n't 
 eaten that second piece of lemon pie I 'd been as 
 kinky as the best of 'em." 
 
 123
 
 Chapter XIII 
 
 How Wiggles t worth 
 Mowed the Lawn
 
 " ' Get out of the way, then,' snapped Mr. Wtgglesworth." 
 - Page 129.
 
 T| *\ 
 ^ 
 . 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. Hcnv Wigglesworth Mowed 
 the La f wn 
 
 LLERY," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, with a 
 little air of timidity. 
 
 " Umphhmmm ? " grunted Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth, being engrossed in his paper, 
 as a husband usually is. 
 
 " I wish you 'd send up a man to mow the lawn," 
 said Mrs. Wigglesworth, toying nervously with the 
 leaves of her magazine. 
 
 " Oh, of course," replied her husband, deep in an 
 article on the financial question, " send up a man 
 that 's the way. That 's Mrs. Wigglesworth the great 
 political economist. How to support the unemployed 
 out of your husband's pocket-book, by Mrs. E. Wig- 
 glesworth, the celebrated free silver agitatress, eight 
 cents a copy or three copies for twenty-five cents." 
 
 " I know these things cost lots of money," returned 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, tapping her teeth with the paper 
 cutter, "and I want to save every cent possible of 
 course I do. Can't you mow it, Ellery? You can 
 borrow Mr. Wetherbee's lawn mower and 
 
 "That 's it, that 's the way," broke in Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, with a bitter laugh; that's Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth's idea of economy," he added, nodding sarcas- 
 tically to the lamp; "le's save on the two-dollar 
 laborer, says Mrs. Wigglesworth, but never mind how 
 much we pile onto the old man oh, no, never mind 
 
 127
 
 Wigglesworth 
 
 old Wiggles worth. Sock it to Wiggles worth all you 
 can, that 's her idea. Never mind how sick and tired 
 Wigglesworth gets, slaving at the office all day to 
 support my extravagances, I '11 pile the stuff onto 
 him when he gets home, says Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 That 's what she says. I despise such selfishness ? " 
 cried Mr. Wigglesworth, pausing to violently wipe off 
 his heated countenance. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth found herself too dizzy to com- 
 bat the rotary character of her husband's eloquence, 
 so she wisely refrained from saying anything. Some- 
 times a man's wife will do that way. 
 
 The grass on the lawn was certainly very high. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth noticed this fact again as he 
 started for the office next morning. No mortal man, 
 he reflected, could push a lawn mower through such 
 a sturdy growth. 
 
 "A scythe is what you need, " muttered Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, apostrophizing the grass. 
 
 Two hours later a large, fat lady fell over a box of 
 shoes standing on the curbing, thereby permanently 
 injuring several domestic eggs that she was carrying 
 home in a paper sack, while a number of leading 
 citizens removed nearly two gallons of fresh paint 
 from an adjacent fence in their haste to get on top of 
 it. 
 
 In another moment Mr. Wigglesworth, bearing a 
 new scythe in his grasp, went skimming by. 
 
 He had bought the scythe at a store where they 
 keep such things to sell. He told the man that he'd 
 
 128
 
 Mowed the La e wn 
 
 probably mowed thousands of acres of grass when 
 he. was a boy. City men who were originally born 
 on a farm often give way to that hallucination. So 
 the store keeper had let him have the scythe, but 
 when he saw Mr. Wigglesworth stop outside the door 
 and essay to hang the two parts of the scythe to- 
 gether, the storekeeper turned pale and hastily tele- 
 phoned the emergency hospital. 
 
 The scythe blade was a Turkish crescent sort of 
 affair on an enlarged scale and it had a wooden 
 handle that cockscrewed like the career of a success- 
 ful politician. 
 
 " Get out of the way, then ! " snapped Mr. Wig. 
 glesworth, as a long, yellow dog turned with a loud 
 gesture and regarded the piece of bleeding tail that 
 the scythe had deposited on the sidewalk. 
 
 Ten minutes after this Mr. Wigglesworth had the 
 scythe entangled in his front gate and was yanking 
 at it viciously. 
 
 " Gash-flummux the old thing!" he yelled, aiming 
 a kick at the sinuous handle, "what ye think this 
 is a Chinese puzzle?" and then he tore out the 
 bottom of a trouser's leg on it. 
 
 "Why, Ellery, " cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, appear- 
 ing on the front stoop, hastily rolling up her apron, 
 " what have you got there ? " 
 
 "Got there?" sneered Mr. Wigglesworth, grabbing 
 up a piece of plank and knocking at the handle 
 savagely, "what ye s'pose? Looks like an upright 
 cook stove, don't it ? Think it's a gavel made from 
 
 129
 
 How Wiggles e worth 
 
 the birthplace of Roger Williams, don't ye ? " and 
 then the handle for no ostensible reason suddenly un- 
 threading itself from the pickets, Mr. Wigglesworth 
 shot half-way up the front walk with it, neatly mow- 
 ing off half a dozen gladiolus (G. -psit tacinus) before 
 the career of the scythe could be arrested. 
 
 "Oh, dear, dear, dear!" moaned Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, wringing the apron, "look at my beautiful 
 gladiolus. " 
 
 "What ye s 'pose I care," shouted her husband, 
 giving the prostrate implement another kick ; " if 
 you hadn't gone and shut that gate in my face I 
 wouldn't had such trouble getting inhere." 
 
 " But what are you going to do with that scythe ? " 
 mildly inquired Mrs. Wigglesworth, after offering a 
 tribute of tears to the gladiolus. 
 
 " Do with it ? " retorted her husband, throwing off 
 his coat with an air of importance, " mow the lawn 
 with it, of course. What ye s 'pose ? Thought I 
 was going to wash the windows with it didn't ye? 
 Pro 'bly reckoned I was going to bore an artesian well." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth took a comprehensive survey of 
 the tall grass and lifting the scythe from the ground 
 balanced it on his hands. There was something 
 wrong about it, he couldn't say just where, but it 
 twisted itself so drunkenly, and the blade stood off 
 at such a doubtful angle, that Mr. Wigglesworth 
 questioned in his own heart if his first sweep would 
 take out a row of pickets or cut a long gash down 
 the parlor window screen. 
 
 130
 
 M&wed the La ( wn 
 
 "Ah, Brother Wigglesworth, " called the familiar 
 voice of the minister, " mowing this morning ? " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth regarded the good man with a 
 frown. 
 
 " No," he replied, in a tone of sarcasm, " I'm 
 sewing a button on my vest," and he looked again 
 at his scythe. 
 
 " Ha-ha-ha ! " laughed the minister, " very good, 
 indeed. Positively, I must repeat that to my wife 
 sewing a button on your vest ha-ha-ha very 
 good! But you ought to turn the blade around, 
 Brother Wigglesworth. You will observe, by care- 
 ful analysis, that you have it pointing in an opposite 
 direction, utterly inconsistent with adequate ease of 
 manipulation." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, acting on this suggestion, re- 
 hung the blade on the handle, and assuming an at- 
 titude that he recalled from his boyhood, gave the 
 scythe a jaunty swing and snipped off the top of his 
 wife's favorite weigelia ( W. Variegala.) 
 
 " You should point the blade a little lower," sug- 
 gested the minister, who was leaning over the fence. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth brought back the scythe and 
 gave a mighty stroke that buried the point into the 
 ground and nearly poked out two of his floating ribs 
 with the handle. 
 
 " Wow ! " he yelled, dropping the scythe and tak- 
 ing his bruised ribs into an affectionate grasp ; "oh, 
 I 've smashed my whole side in 1 I 've splintered every 
 rib in my body ! "
 
 Ho*w Wigglesworth 
 
 After Mr. Wiggles worth had limped about the 
 yard for some moments he felt his anger mounting. 
 
 "Gimme that scythe!" he said in a condensed 
 voice, and there was a wild gleam in his eye that 
 made the minister shudder, while Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 looking on from the parlor window, held her breath 
 for several minutes without noticing it. 
 
 It is remarkable how many things a man used to 
 know when a boy that have now slipped his recollec- 
 tion, or become sadly altered by the lapse of time. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, as he lunged into the grass, 
 thought of this. A man can think of a vast number 
 of things while a scythe, missing its aim, is engaged 
 in swinging him twice around without halting. So 
 instantaneous is thought. 
 
 " That 's it ? " cried Mr. Wigglesworth, recovering 
 his poise and aiming another blow at the atmosphere, 
 " that 's the way to mow 1 That 's the way to make 
 hay while the sun shines," he shouted, clawing the 
 scythe loose from a flower-bed and raking a whole 
 battalion of Sweet Williams (Dtanthus barbatus) off 
 at the ankles ; " Wigglesworth, the patent mowing 
 machine with gilt spokes in the wheels ! " and he 
 dug the point into a line fence and split an inch board 
 with it ; " fields mowed to order and satisfaction 
 guaranteed or hay refunded 1 " he yelled, pulling the 
 scythe out and neatly felling a young green ash tree 
 (F. juglandiflora) that he had been nursing with 
 great 'assiduity. "I'm the great North American 
 hayist 1 " he shrieked, purple in the face ; " baled hay 
 
 152
 
 Mo<wed the La e wn 
 
 constantly on hand or sent postpaid on receipt of 
 price 1 " and then the scythe, mercifully catching it- 
 self on the limb of a rock maple (A. saccharinum) 
 tore itself from his benumbed hands, and after deal- 
 ing him a blow on the head with its handle that raised 
 an entirely new kind of phrenological organ, passed 
 out into the street and came near to decapitating a 
 poor but freckled boy who was the only support of 
 his widowed mother and eleven small children. 
 
 As the minister gently took him by the hand and 
 led him toward the house, Mr. Wigglesworth shook 
 his fist at his wife through the window. 
 
 " I'll have a divorce for this ! " he shouted, laying 
 a blistered hand to his poor, aching head. 
 
 But under the soothing influence of the minister 
 softer sentiments prevailed, and instead he got an axe 
 and chopped at the scythe till its own maker would n't 
 have recognized it. 
 
 133
 
 Chapter XIV 
 
 Ho e w Wigglesworth 
 Rode a Bicycle
 
 Hold her up there I ' he cried." Pagt 739.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. How Wigglesworth Rode 
 a Bicycle 
 
 AT frequent intervals during supper Mr. 
 Wigglesworth would stay the motion 
 of his jaws, and incline a listening ear 
 toward the back door. The look of 
 mysterious importance that enveloped his counte- 
 nance cast Mrs. Wigglesworth into a flutter of spirits, 
 and when at last her husband broke for the door, she 
 followed him, thinking with a little tremor of delight, 
 that he had a surprise for her. And so he had. 
 
 The expressman was just going away, leaving a 
 glistening bicycle, which Mr. Wigglesworth, his 
 hands in his pockets, was walking around admiringly. 
 
 " O-o-h-h-h 1 " exclaimed Mrs. Wigglesworth, clap- 
 ping her hands, " is it for me ? " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth threw upon her a look of 
 hauteur. 
 
 " But who can it be for ? " Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 wondered, seeing that the card hadn't turned up to 
 her. 
 
 " Why, who 'd ye s 'pose ? " retorted her husband, 
 rubbing his fingers over the shiny handles ; " think I 
 got it for the hired girl, don't ye) What's the matter 
 with my giving it to the minister, so he can waltz up 
 and down the aisle and take his own collections? 
 Don't s'pose it could occur to ye that Wigglesworth 
 wanted it for himself ? "
 
 Ho<w Wtggtesworth 
 
 " Why I didn't " Mrs. Wigglesworth stam- 
 mered. 
 
 " Oh, of course not," her husband snorted ; " I 
 might go around all summer with my liver hanging 
 over on one side, and you'd never mention it. Don't 
 ye s'pose I like to have as many lungs as anybody ? 
 Think I'm going to have my whole system clog up 
 and burst, like a dam ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth gave a scream. 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth," she said sternly, "you 
 ought to be ashamed to use such language right here 
 on your own back porch I " 
 
 A short time later the woman next door, going out 
 to shake a tablecloth, saw such things coming to pass 
 over in the Wigglesworth driveway as put all thoughts 
 of tablecloths out of mind. It is to this neighborly 
 lady that the ladies' afternoon whist conversazione 
 became indebted for the clearest account of the per- 
 formance that has yet been made public. 
 
 " What ails ye ? " Mr. Wigglesworth was yelling to 
 Imogene, "can't ye walk along here ten seconds 
 without putting your foreign feet under the wheels ? 
 Who asked you to trig the thing ? " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, his coat off and his long hair 
 disarranged from his bald top, sat on the little leather 
 saddle, his hands deathlessly gripping the polished 
 handles and his body bent forward at the most pain- 
 ful angle known to geometry. Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 and Imogene, on either side of the machine, spent 
 their strength in keeping it erect, while Mr. Wiggles- 
 
 138
 
 Rode a Bicycle 
 
 worth felt around in the air with his feet for the 
 pedals and then when he found one, pushed at it 
 savagely, while his foot and his temper slipped off, 
 the former tearing a hole in Imogene's apron and 
 the latter in the shape of a remark curling and crisp- 
 ing the young leaves on the trees. 
 
 " Hold her up there ! " he cried, as the world 
 fetched a heavy list to starboard and Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth tottered and was like to go down. " What 's 
 the matter," he puffed, making some more aimless 
 circles with his left foot ; " can't ye boost up one side 
 of a simple thing like this ? " 
 
 " It's awfully heavy," gasped his wife, with her 
 tongue between her teeth. 
 
 " Heavy 1 " bullied Mr. Wigglesworth, in as loud a 
 voice as the machine would permit, " course it's 
 heavy. That's what I've been telling ye all winter. 
 Doctor says 'f I don't get exercise 'm liable to get 
 fatty degeneration and and degenerate. Don't do 
 that 1 " he shouted, as the weight suddenly shifted to 
 Imogene, buckling that red-faced young lady into a 
 S ; " ain't ye got sense enough to hold her even ? 
 Them sudden jerks is what snaps my neck so. What 
 ye doing that for?" he yelled as Imogene, stimulated 
 by his cries, straightened out of the letter S and im- 
 parted a wobbling motion to the procession that al- 
 most flung Mr. Wigglesworth over the fence ; " think 
 you're washing our best dishes, don't ye ? Don't act 
 so strong." 
 
 Then the celebration moved painfully onward, the
 
 H&W Wiggtesworth 
 
 heavy topped machine penduluming from Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth to Imogene and back again, while Mr. 
 Wigglesworth put his eyes still further out of his 
 head and scarred his shins on the eccentric pedals, 
 and muttered things that were not clearly intelligible 
 to the woman next door, the wind being unfavorable, 
 though she listened carefully. 
 
 So came they at last to the place where the drive- 
 way makes a turn into the stable. Either you make 
 the turn at the same time the driveway does, or you 
 keep on down a little hill into the clothes-dryer. 
 
 "Turn the thing round?" shouted Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, catching a momentary glimpse of the situa- 
 tion ; " steer her round, can't ye ? Want to poke me 
 into the ocean ? " 
 
 "You you ought to be doing the steering?" his 
 wife answered, with the suggestion of a sob in her 
 overworked system. 
 
 " So I am," screamed the wretched Wigglesworth, a 
 fear of disaster clutching at his heart, " but the blamed 
 old thing won't twist. Push Why don't ye push 1 " 
 
 That's what they were doing, to their utmost, Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth one way and Imogene the other, so 
 that the machine, tossed in the storm that these con- 
 flicting passions aroused, raged back and forth and 
 then passed off the graveled way and took a hasty 
 course toward Europe. All the horrors of the situa- 
 tion loomed swiftly to the goggling eyes of Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth. 
 
 " Hold her hold her back ! " he shrieked, tearing 
 
 140
 
 Rode a Bicycle 
 
 madly at the handles and waving his legs about in* 
 the atmosphere. 
 
 The women strove to do this, with their utmost, 
 but that were small matter now that the machine, 
 tearing itself from their grasp and kicking up its hind 
 wheel in an excess of youthful spirits, realized what 
 an opportunity was afforded it. Down the steep bank 
 it charged, Mr. Wigglesworth still knit to its handles 
 and looking, the woman next door said, like an al- 
 legory of something that in the confusion of the 
 moment she could n't recall the name of, but which 
 could be easily ascertained by referring to the rear 
 end of the dictionary, and then, obeying at last, the 
 wild plucking at its handles, swerving just enough to 
 accompany its daring rider into the thickest ranks of 
 the dryer full of clothes. There was a shrill scream 
 from the women on the bank and a hoarse roar from 
 the whirling Wigglesworth, and in another moment he 
 had shot out on the opposite side, both wheels of the 
 machine curled about his legs like a wire puzzle, and 
 hanging from his neck a red and yellow calico gown 
 that belonged to Imogene. 
 
 "That's what comes of being a home-made fool!" 
 Mr. Wigglesworth screamed as they untwisted his 
 legs from the wire spokes ; " that's what I get for 
 trying to follow your idiotic advice to take some ex- 
 ercise. Who put this thing round my neck?" he 
 yelled still louder, twitching at the calico gown; 
 "git it off git it off, d'ye hear? and give that 
 hired girl notice ! This is the third time she's tried 
 to take my life, and I tell ye she's dangerous I " 
 
 141
 
 Chapter XV 
 
 Ho e w 
 
 Caught the 
 Burglar
 
 " 'See anything,' he whispered." Page 147.
 
 ~1| *\ 
 M J 
 i j 
 
 CHAPTER XV. How Wigglesworth Caught 
 the Burglar 
 
 LLERY 1 " hoarsely whispered Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth. 
 
 " Ellery 1 " she repeated, shaking him 
 by the shoulder. 
 
 " Whatyewan ? " muttered Mr. Wigglesworth in one 
 word. Then he pushed his head further into the 
 pillow and trilled a little snore. 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth ! " exclaimed his wife, using 
 a never-failing elbow, " do you want to lie there asleep 
 and see us both murdered in our own house ? I tell 
 you I hear somebody down stairs ! " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth came bolt upright in an instant. 
 
 " Sh ! " he hissed loudly. " Don't ye know any 
 better than to stick a sharp elbow into my back and 
 make me yell ? He might have heard me I " 
 
 "Who might?" Mrs. Wigglesworth wailed. "Oh, 
 Ellery, you don't mean to tell me there's a burglar in 
 the house ? " 
 
 " I tell ye ? " echoed Mr. Wigglesworth wrathfully ; 
 " didn't you wake me up and say there was ? Don't ye 
 go laying the blame on my shoulders." 
 
 There was something blood-chilling in this whis- 
 pered conversation, carried on under cover of the 
 darkness, with ears strained to catch some sound and 
 every nerve wrought to highest tension. Then time, 
 which for a season had seemed to stand still, re- 
 sumed its onward flight. 
 
 145
 
 H<yw Wigglesworth 
 
 " I guess it wasn't anything," Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 concluded. 
 
 "Dry up, can't yel" commanded her husband; 
 " what 's the use bellering round so till ye find out ? 
 Want to see me shot down defending my own house, 
 don't ye?" 
 
 " Hark 1 " interrupted Mrs. Wigglesworth, straining 
 her eyes into the blackness. " I know I heard some- 
 thing then. Oh, do get up, Ellery, and go see." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth blew a loud blast through his 
 nostrils. 
 
 "What ye want?" he whispered savagely, glaring 
 at his wife through the gloom ; " think I 'm going 
 out there and have my lungs cut open with a knife ? 
 Reckon I 'm Napoleon at the bridge of Arcola, 
 don't ye?" 
 
 There could be no disguising the fact that some- 
 body was moving stealthily about in the lower 
 part of the house. The noises were muffled, with 
 now and then a subdued clinking sound. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth got cautiously out of bed, made 
 two faltering steps and put his feet on his wife's 
 slippers. No married man ever got out of bed and 
 took a step in the dark with any other result. 
 
 " There they are again ! " he howled as loudly as 
 he dared, kicking the slippers viciously. 
 
 " Don't let them stab you I " cried Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, hysterically, putting her head under the quilt. 
 
 But her husband's mutterings as he stumbled 
 about the room brought her forth again. 
 
 146
 
 Caught the Burglar 
 
 " Do hurry up and light the lamp," she pleaded. 
 
 " That 's it," returned Mr. Wigglesworth. " You 
 know the thing to do in an emergency. Want to 
 illuminate, don't ye, so anybody can shoot through 
 the keyhole and break the looking-glass." 
 
 In the closet was a heavy cane, which Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth succeeded in laying hold of. With that his 
 spirits mounted a little. 
 
 " Why don't ye come out of that bed ? " he directed ; 
 " think they 're after you ? " 
 
 "Don't do anything rash, I beg of you, Ellery," 
 said Mrs. Wigglesworth agitatedly, as she found a 
 skirt and put it over her shoulders. 
 
 " You go ahead there and open the door," said Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, " and if any of 'em show their heads 
 I '11 take and knock a hole in 'em ! " 
 
 "I I don't dare ! " Mrs. Wigglesworth whimpered. 
 
 "What's the use to be a snivelling coward?" 
 argued her husband. " Ain 't I here to protect ye?" 
 
 "You you go ahead," suggested Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 " What kind of a way would that be ? " blustered 
 her husband. " S 'pose they 'd jab a hatchet into me 
 first thing, what would become of you, I'd like to 
 know?" 
 
 Stimulated by these encouraging arguments, Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth softly turned the knob and stole into 
 the hall. Mr. Wigglesworth peered through the door 
 and watched her dimly moving toward the stairway. 
 
 "See anything?" he whispered.
 
 How Wiggles e worth 
 
 "There's a light in the pantry," returned his wife, 
 her teeth chattering. 
 
 " Go down the stairs," advised Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 partially closing the door. 
 
 It is a dreadful thing to be left alone in your room, 
 the darkness intense, with creepy sensations going up 
 your back, and only one poor cane between you and 
 death death at the desperate hand of a burglar. 
 The weight of the situation pressed cruelly upon Mr. 
 Wigglesworth. Would his wife never come back? 
 He cautiously opened the door. Had she in a sud- 
 den accession of feminine courage gone down the 
 stairs and been chloroformed perhaps been ? 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth 's heart turned over, and his hair 
 made a sudden gesture as though it would stand on 
 end. Slowly and fearfully he also stole down the 
 stairs. 
 
 " I must know the worst," he muttered hoarsely, 
 with an in-catching of his breath. 
 
 If he could make the back hall it would be pos- 
 sible to investigate the pantry, whence a light shone 
 dimly, and also escape out of doors if need were. 
 Silently Mr. Wigglesworth accomplished this feat, 
 and then a figure came darkly through the other door 
 and collided with him. 
 
 Night workmen going early home from their toil 
 heard the yell that Mr. Wigglesworth let loose as he 
 grappled with the figure, which likewise sent forth a 
 companion shriek. There was for an instant a dread- 
 ful scuffle, then a crash, and Mr. Wigglesworth was 
 
 148
 
 Caught the Burglar 
 
 down on the floor, lashing out with the cane and bawl- 
 ing ceaselessly. Then Mrs. Wigglesworth ran in 
 with a light. 
 
 " Wow ! " screamed Mr. Wigglesworth ; " where's 
 he gone?" 
 
 " Where 's who gone ? " cried Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "The burglar there's half a dozen of 'em!" 
 howled Mr. Wigglesworth. " I tackled 'em all single- 
 handed. I 'm wallowing in blood ! " 
 
 " No you ain't ! " earnestly protested his wife, hold- 
 ing the light nearer ; " that 's my new tomato pickle. 
 You 're covered with it ! " 
 
 Which was true. 
 
 "You see," continued Mrs. Wigglesworth in ex- 
 planation and pattering on behind as her husbarid 
 stalked savagely up stairs, " Imogene's tooth ached so 
 bad she could n't sleep, so she thought she would get 
 up and put away the pickles I worked all day bottling, 
 and she was scared enough when I came in on her 
 but the funniest thing, Ellery, was when she ran into 
 you, with the last bottle in her hand, and you both 
 were scared, and the bottle broke and you thought it 
 was blood, and oh, Ellery tee-he-he-he" 
 
 " Tee-he-he-he 1" mimicked Mr. Wigglesworth, as 
 he threw himself into bed ; "why don't you act like a 
 gash-flummuxed fool and be done with it ? " 
 
 149
 
 Chapter XVI 
 
 Wiggles<worth 
 Showed Them 
 Secrets of Haying
 
 " ' Ketch hold of her,' screamed Mr. Wigglesworth, sawing 
 wildly at the reins." Page 757.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. How Wigglesworth Showed 
 them Secrets of Haying 
 
 SWEET blew the scents from the hayfield, 
 and the sharp click of the horse mowers 
 made music that filled the air and im- 
 parted a pleasant stir to the unusually 
 quiet country. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wigglesworth, up from town for a 
 week's outing at Uncle Chesterfield's, stood on the 
 kitchen verandah and admired the scene. 
 
 "How poetic it is," gushed Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 pressing her hands together in an ecstacy. " Don't 
 you think it is delightfully pastoral, Ellery, and and 
 all that you know ? " 
 
 "T ain't half bad," acknowledged Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, with an approving nod. " I 'd like to get at 
 one of them mowing machines, he added, shifting his 
 feet ; " I 'd show 'em how to rip down an acre of 
 grass. They're altogether too slow, these country 
 ducks. What they need is a little of our city snap." 
 
 Over in an adjacent lot Uncle Chesterfield, the sun 
 smiting at his leathery countenance, soberly guided 
 the mower into the upright ranks of grass, while the 
 hired man, with a fiery face out of all character with 
 his deliberate gestures, amused himself with a rake 
 that he now and then combed through the fallen 
 grass with a slow and dignified manner. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth stepped off the verandah.
 
 Hcnv Wiggle&worth 
 
 "What are you going to do?" asked his wife. 
 
 " I 'm going over and take a hand in that hay- 
 making," replied Mr. Wigglesworth. "They won't 
 get it done this summer at that rate." 
 
 "I wouldn't interfere if I were you," advised his 
 wife. 
 
 " Oh, of course not," sneered Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 "you 'd have me set up here with my feet in my lap 
 all summer, drinking buttermilk out of a dipper. 
 That 's the kind of a vacation you 'd get up. Mrs 
 Wigglesworth's fresh air fund, for sending people 
 away from the city so they can't have any pleasure. 
 That 's your way." 
 
 "It's all so new, you know," murmured Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 "New?" sniffed her husband, turning on her 
 fiercely, "who said it was new? Wasn't I brought 
 up on a farm, I 'd like to know ? Have n't I made 
 more hay than a steam engine could haul ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth followed her husband across 
 to the hay field, shaking her head dubiously. 
 
 " Hullo 1 " called Mr. Wigglesworth as he climbed 
 the fence. 
 
 Uncle Chesterfield pulled up his horses and the 
 hired man seized the opportunity to transfer his 
 weight to the other foot. 
 
 "Howdy do?" said Uncle Chesterfield, good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 "Getting on kinder slow, ain't ye?" asked Mr. 
 Wigglesworth 
 
 154
 
 Sh&wed them Secrets of Haying 
 
 " Doin' perty well, I reckon," replied Uncle Ches- 
 terfield, wiping his face. 
 
 " We used to rush things faster when I was a boy," 
 said Mr. Wigglesworth, "and we didn't have any 
 machines either. ' F ye don't mind I '11 take hold a 
 bit and show ye how we used to push things along." 
 
 "Why, cert'nly cert'nly," assented Uncle Ches- 
 terfield cordially. "Take right holt. Glad to hev 
 ye." 
 
 At that moment a hay tedder, attached to a tall, 
 bony horse, was driven into the field by a boy whose 
 face had begun to freckle quite early in life and grad- 
 ually increased in efficiency. Mr. Wigglesworth flung 
 off his coat. 
 
 "Drive around this way!" he called to the boy 
 with the home-made freckles. 
 
 The tedder was a machine hung between two wheels 
 with a seat for the driver above. It was fraught 
 with a number of wooden legs caught to some sort of 
 gearing which, with the revolution of the wheels, 
 kicked the legs out behind with a grasshopperlike 
 action, flinging the prostrate hay about in all direc- 
 tions and opening it to the curing processes of the 
 sun. Mr. Wigglesworth climbed into the seat and 
 took the reins. 
 
 " Whoa ! " he said, yanking at the reins to indicate 
 to the bony horse that" Wiggles worth was now in 
 command, whereat the bony horse, uttering a loud 
 snort, stood up on his two after feet and nearly brained 
 the hired man with the others.
 
 Wiggles<worth 
 
 "What ye trying to do?" cried the hired man, 
 startled into unwonted action. 
 
 " Whoa stand still 1 " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth 
 as the bony horse exhibited an inclination to put his 
 hind feet into Mr. Wigglesworth 's lungs. " Get hold 
 of his head, there, can't ye?" he yelled to the hired 
 man ; " what ye want to stand around there for like a fool, 
 brandishing that pitchfork ? No wonder he's scared." 
 
 With the exercise of some blandishments on the 
 part of the hired man and the boy with the instanta- 
 neous freckles the bony horse was quieted and the 
 performance went on. 
 
 There was something exhilarating in the exercise. 
 The tedder rolled smoothly over the clear-reaped 
 ground, kicking out with a spasmodic action, and 
 filling the air full of the odoriferous hay. Turning 
 the corner at the far end of the field Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth waved his hat to his wife who was watching 
 him from the distant fence top. 
 
 " Wonder what she thinks of this ! " he said to 
 himself complacently, and he flung out his chest in 
 an excess of pride. 
 
 " Get up, there 1 " he remarked prodding the bony 
 horse with his pointed shoe. 
 
 Everybody knows that it is a mistake to hitch 
 Pegasus to the plow, the operation usually resulting 
 in dimming the ambition of Pegasus, but with the 
 bony horse it was different. He had never been 
 prodded behind before with a five dollar shoe, and his 
 haughty nature resented it. 
 
 156
 
 Showed them Secrets of Haying 
 
 Looking up from his reverie the hired man was 
 startled to see the bony horse tearing across the 
 sward and the hay tedder gesticulating with the 
 rapidity of an elocutionist. With the exercise of re- 
 markable agility the hired man took one step and the 
 flying tedder missed him by a hair. 
 
 "Ketch hold of her!" screamed Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, sawing madly at the reins. 
 
 His hat was gone, his whiskers floated behind him 
 with a loud, purring noise and his eyes, strained from 
 their orbits with the energy of his manner, looked 
 stonily ahead with an expression that foretold disaster. 
 The hired man noted this and shuddered. 
 
 "Stop sawin' on the reins!" roared Uncle Chester- 
 field, as the procession went past the judge's stand, 
 but Mr. Wigglesworth was instantly hull down on the 
 horizon and the advice went out in air. 
 
 Round the field tore the bony horse, the legs of 
 the tedder twinkling hi the summer sun, filling the 
 heavens with flying grass and the freckled face of the 
 boy with wonder. 
 
 "Why don't ye do something?" shrieked Mr. 
 Wigglesworth to the hired man as they once more 
 came down the home stretch together, the bony horse 
 leading and Mr. Wigglesworth a close second ; "get 
 an axe, can't ye, and jab into her?" but the hired 
 man was already far behind and Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 shriek spent itself in the neighboring county. 
 
 The momentary paralysis that had enveloped the 
 joints and muscles of Mrs. Wigglesworth now sud-
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 denly released its hold. With horror clutching at her 
 heart she had noted the wild bolting of the bony 
 horse and the deadly peril that instantly enveloped 
 her beloved Ellery. Just as quickly as she could do 
 so she got down from the fence and tottered over the 
 stubble. 
 
 Somewhere she had read that a wild animal, startled 
 by something unexpected, can be shocked into 
 docility. Filled with this great thought Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, uttering a shrill scream, rushed fearlessly 
 in front of the flying horse and suddenly opened her 
 red parasol. 
 
 " Shoo I " screamed Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 The effect on the bony horse was electrical. 
 There was no doubt of that. Standing up on his 
 hind legs with great suddenness he gave utterance to 
 a half human scream and executed a dance movement 
 with incredible swiftness. With an auxiliary gesture 
 he then smashed in the straw hat of the hired man 
 before that deliberate gentleman could get his head 
 out from under it. 
 
 The hay tedder made a remarkable exhibition as it 
 followed the bony horse across the meadows, its 
 eccentric legs prodding the air with a swiftness that 
 never had been equalled. It would have been a sight 
 to fascinate one had not Mrs. Wigglesworth suddenly 
 discovered that the driver's seat was empty. 
 
 " Oh, where is Ellery ? " she screamed, wildly 
 brandishing the red umbrella. 
 
 And they discovered afterwards that the tedder 
 158
 
 Showed them Secrets of Haying 
 
 had him, holding him down with one leg and kicking 
 him at rapid intervals with all the others. 
 
 " I hope you 're satisfied, now," he hissed as they 
 got him into bed with what tenderness they were 
 capable of ; " get me to make a fool of myself in the 
 hay field just to amuse you, and then you rush out 
 and try to take my life with that gash-flummuxed old 
 red umbrella. You 're a darling wife, you are 1 " 
 
 But, really, Mrs. Wigglesworth said afterwards to 
 the minister's wife, she was so glad that none of his 
 legs were broken that she didn't care much what 
 Ellery said to her. 
 
 And neither did he. 
 
 159
 
 Chapter XVII 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Enjoyed the 
 Eclipse
 
 "'Oh, yes,' cried Mr. Wigglesworth, glaring across the 
 table, ' that's it.' " Page 163.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. How Wigglesworth En- 
 joyed the Eclipse 
 
 MRS. Wetherbee was in, this afternoon," 
 said Mrs. Wigglesworth at supper. 
 "Well," growled her husband, 
 who had had an uncomfortable day 
 at the coal office, " what did she want to borrow ? " 
 
 "She said," rejoined Mrs. Wigglesworth, unheed- 
 ing the sarcasm, "that there was going to be an 
 eclipse of the moon tonight" 
 
 "Yah?" broke in Mr. Wigglesworth, "don't she 
 s'pose I know that ? Think I 've got to have every 
 fat woman in town with a mole on her chin running 
 round to tell me things like them ? I saw more than 
 a hundred eclipses 'fore old Wetherbee and his wife 
 were born." 
 
 " She came to ask us," Mrs. Wigglesworth resumed 
 when her husband's mouth was filled with toast, "if 
 we didn't want to come over to their house and 
 watch it?" 
 
 " Watch what the house ? " 
 
 "No, the eclipse. You know, they have a large 
 telescope, and she thought " 
 
 " Oh, yes," cried Mr. Wigglesworth, glaring across 
 the table, "that's it. Ever since them Wetherbees 
 had a little money left 'em they put on airs till they 
 make me sick. Think they 're the only ones who are 
 going to have an eclipse, don't they? Wetherbee's 
 
 163
 
 How Wiggles ( worth 
 
 special line of eclipses. Don't take any eclipses 
 until you've seen Wetherbee's. Patronize Weth- 
 erbee ; his eclipses are out of sight. I hate such 
 stuck-up people. What I can't seem to understand," 
 he snarled in conclusion, and with sudden change of 
 front, " is how that hired girl of yours always man- 
 ages to give us such a stone-cold cup of tea with the 
 same fire that she burns the toast up with ! " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth divined by this time that it had 
 been a poor day for business, so she said nothing 
 further, while her husband went out to nail a picket 
 on the fence, and in the gathering twilight contrived 
 to strike a nail with every blow of the hammer. 
 
 "Ain't ye ready yet?" he shouted as he rattled 
 into the house, by and by, nursing his thumb. 
 
 " Ready for what ? " asked his wife in a mild voice 
 as she got him the arnica. 
 
 "Ready for what?" snapped Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 taking his thumb out of his mouth so as to give his 
 voice free sway, "why, for the eclipse, of course. 
 Didn't ye say the Wetherbees wanted us to come 
 over there? What ye trying to act out, anyway? 
 Don't ye know what common politeness is when folks 
 give ye an invitation ? " 
 
 Somewhat dizzy with the powerful veerings of her 
 husband's mental compass Mrs. Wigglesworth hurried 
 on her wrap. 
 
 "So glad to see you!" cooed Mrs. Wetherbee, 
 shaking hands. 
 
 "Yes step right up on the verandah," Mr. 
 164
 
 Enjoyed the Eclipse 
 
 Wetherbee said, pulling forward some uncomfortable 
 summer chairs. 
 
 "Nice night," said Mr. Wigglesworth wiping his 
 forehead. 
 
 " Yes, I was saying to Ellery on the way over," 
 chirped Mrs. Wigglesworth, "that I thought it one 
 of the nicest nights for an eclipse that I ever saw, 
 especially of the moon. Do you know if it is to be 
 a total eclipse, Mr. Wetherbee?" 
 
 " The whole box and dice," asserted Mr. Wetherbee. 
 
 " How perfectly lovely," exclaimed Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth ; " these er partial eclipses are so sort of 
 unsatisfying, and all that, don't you think, Mrs. 
 Wetherbee ? " 
 
 "Step up on the roof and have a look at the 
 telescope," suggested their host. 
 
 " Cost two hundred and fifty dollars," he explained, 
 as they stood about the long brass cylinder, and felt 
 of the glass with their moist hands. " It 's a dandy, 
 so the man said I got it of." 
 
 " Does it make things seem awfully near to ? " Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth asked. 
 
 "What's the use to ask such numb questions as 
 that?" muttered her husband, who hadn't found 
 opportunity to put in a word all the evening ; " think 
 they got it to conceal bank defalcations, don't ye? " 
 
 It wanting an hour of the advertised time of the 
 eclipse, Mr. Wetherbee suggested that they go below 
 and have a cigar, and while he entertained Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth with a long and circumstantial account of 
 
 165
 
 H&w Wiggles<worth 
 
 an operation in stocks, wherein the Wetherbee 
 shrewdness was admirably set forth by the lips of 
 Wetherbee, Mrs. Wigglesworth gave, for the benefit 
 of Mrs. Wetherbee, a full and unabridged description 
 of the difficulty which Willie, when a baby, had ex- 
 perienced in cutting his own teeth himself for the first 
 time. Then when the hour had flown sufficiently 
 they returned to the roof. 
 
 " You may look first," said Mr. Wetherbee, train- 
 ing the telescope towards the moon. 
 
 " I can't see anything," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Oh, I forgot to open the slide," apologized the 
 exhibitor. "Now try it." 
 
 " But it 's just as dark as before," protested Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 " You're shutting up both eyes," derided her hus- 
 band; "better open one of 'em." 
 
 " O-o-h-h 1 " gurgled Mrs. Wigglesworth, acting on 
 this hint, " how perfectly lovely 1 I never saw such a 
 bright moon in my life ! Look at it, Ellery." 
 
 They all looked at it, by turns, and admired the 
 dark places which Mrs. Wetherbee said she believed 
 were burned-out volcanoes, and quite deep, when you 
 came to measure them. 
 
 " But I don't seem to see where the eclipse comes 
 in," observed Wetherbee after another long look. 
 " She seems to be sailing along in full regalia. And 
 it's half an hour after time." 
 
 " Perhaps something is out of fix and has delayed 
 166
 
 Enjoyed the Eclipse 
 
 it a little while," suggested Mrs. Wigglesworth. " You 
 know how it was with the fireworks at Central Park 
 that time, Ellery ? " 
 
 " Hark ! " said Mrs. Wetherbee, raising a warning 
 hand. " I thought I heard somebody calling." 
 
 " Hullo, up there ! " came a voice from the front 
 yard. 
 
 " It 's the minister's voice," said Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "What are you doing?" asked the minister, when 
 greetings had been exchanged. 
 
 " We 're watching the eclipse," responded Mr. 
 Wetherbee ; " or at least waiting for it," he hastened 
 to add. 
 
 " But the eclipse does n't come off till tomorrow," 
 said the minister, earnestly. 
 
 " What 's the reason it don't " retorted Wetherbee, 
 in a nettled manner. 
 
 "Because," explained the minister, "an eclipse can 
 only occur at the full of the moon, and the moon 
 doesn't full this month until Tuesday, and this is 
 only Monday, you know. You must have made a 
 mistake in the date." 
 
 " My wife did that," Wetherbee proudly returned. 
 " She got her information out of a Sunday paper," he 
 added, raising his voice above the horrified pleadings 
 of his wife, while the minister walked away, shaking 
 his head. 
 
 " I hope you '11 get enough of your Wetherbees," 
 hissed Mr. Wigglesworth, after they had walked 
 toward home for some moments in moody silence; 
 
 167
 
 Enjoyed the Eclipse 
 
 " ever since that old rip of an uncle died and left them 
 a few dollars, you 've done nothing but run your feet 
 off prancing around after 'em, and I Ve had 'em with 
 my meals till I'm worn out. We'd 'a' been perched 
 up on that tarred roof till the sun rose, with that 
 second-hand brass microscope poked into the heavens, 
 looking like idiots, if it hadn't been for the minister." 
 
 Mrs. Wiggleworth's heart swelled with church 
 pride. 
 
 "Ain't he the smartest minister you ever saw!" 
 she cried, in excess of admiration. " He knew the 
 minute he saw us up there that it was the wrong 
 night. I declare, I never saw such a man did you, 
 Ellery?" 
 
 " Y-a-a-h-h ! " snorted Mr. Wigglesworth, as he 
 kicked open the front door. 
 
 168
 
 Chapter -XVIII 
 
 How WiggtesFWorih 
 Set Up the 
 Stove
 
 "'Where's that hired girl ?' snarled Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 pausing to wipe his face." Page 173.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. How Wigglesworth Set 
 Up the Stove 
 
 -R-R-R-R ! " shuddered Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth as he came in from the-office ; " this 
 house is cold's a barn ! " 
 
 " I know it/ said Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 pulling a shawl more closely about her. " I sent 
 Willie down to the store for a man to come and set 
 up the little parlor stove, but he was too busy today." 
 
 "What ye want to rush into expense like that for ? " 
 demanded Mr. Wigglesworth virtuously ; " ain't they 
 crowd enough of us, I'd like to know, to set up an 
 eighty-pound stove, without paying a man two dollars 
 to come and leave an impression of his smutty hand 
 on the parlor paper ? " 
 
 "But it ain't blacked," said Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "Well, why ain't it?" said Mr. Wigglesworth; 
 "what's that hired girl doing, I'd like to ask, that she 
 can't find time to smear a little blacking around where 
 it 's needed ? Been putting a full library binding on 
 one of those fireproof pies, I s'pose, or arranging a loaf 
 of her impervious cake. Where is that stove? " 
 
 He charged out into the shed, where the stove was 
 discovered, after a considerable search, buried under 
 a wealth of debris such as the North American shed 
 knows so well how to accumulate. 
 
 " You 're a dandy housekeeper, ain't ye ? " growled 
 Mr. Wigglesworth as he fought his way toward the 
 stove, while his wife stood on a box and volunteered 
 
 171
 
 Haw WigglesHvorth 
 
 advice. " Always have things handy, you do ! ' Hints 
 On Housekeeping,' by Mrs. Wiggles worth, in two 
 volumes, with full glossary and key. Specially recom- 
 mended for young people who have their own house 
 and want to keep it themselves. That 's what you 
 are." 
 
 To this running accompaniment Mr. Wigglesworth 
 carved his way through the debris, pausing now and 
 then, when he encountered an ambushed nail, to put 
 his fingers into his mouth, and imparting thereby a 
 weird tone to the howl that he gave vent to. 
 
 " Who nailed the thing down ? " he angrily called, 
 as he finally got in where his hands could grip the 
 stove. He was bent over in the most painful manner, 
 which afforded him but little breath to spare. Every- 
 body knows how mad that makes a man. 
 
 "I think," Mrs. Wigglesworth timidly ventured, 
 " that it's heavier than you thought." 
 
 " Oh, yes," growled Mr. Wigglesworth, " you 're a 
 great thinker, you are. You 're the woman that 
 stands around on one foot thinking up things for the 
 heathen. I've read about you in the literary 
 reviews. 'Thoughts That Mrs. Wigglesworth Has 
 Thought Of.' Particularly designed for people who 
 have to have their thinking done elsewhere. Why 
 don't ye come and catch hold here ? " he yelled. 
 
 " Mercy I " ejaculated Mrs. Wigglesworth, startled 
 from her perch by the intensity of her husband's com- 
 mand ; " I did n't know you wanted me to help 1 " 
 
 "What's the reason ye didn't?" returned Mr 
 
 172
 
 Set up the Stove 
 
 Wigglesworth. " Think I 've got the only back in 
 the family that needs breaking? Want me to pull 
 my arms out to double length, don't ye, so's you can 
 use me to feel around on the top shelves of closets 
 and find things ? That's what you want." 
 
 " It's it's awful heavy," complained Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth as she bent over and fastened her grasp on the 
 iron edge. 
 
 "Pohl" sniffed her husband, "there ye go first 
 thing, finding fault. Why don't ye lift, and not stop 
 to growl so much ? " 
 
 The setting sun, looking negligently in at the cob- 
 webbed window, imparted an almost unearthly radiance 
 to the distorted countenance of Mr. Wigglesworth as 
 he strained at the refractory stove, and so set a 
 noble example to his wife, which that worthy woman 
 so ably emulated as to burst both back seams of her 
 waist. 
 
 " Where's that hired girl ! " snarled Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, pausing to wipe his face and so ornamenting 
 himself with some artistic smooches of soot. "What 
 ye got her concealed for just the time we need her 
 most ? Thinks she 's too good to lift on a parlor 
 stove, prob'ly. Has to save her strength for the 
 dance to-morrow night." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth called to Imogene, who came 
 out, wiping her hands on the cup towel. 
 
 "Here!" directed Mr. Wigglesworth, "you two 
 women take hold of the top and I'll snatch out the 
 lower end, see?" 
 
 173
 
 Ho e w Wigglesworth 
 
 Whether Imogene possessed a strength hitherto 
 undreamed of, or the earlier efforts had disengaged 
 the cumbering kindlings and other impedimenta from 
 about the stove legs, it remains a fact that the very 
 first boost sent the whole procession careering rockily 
 across the shed floor, the stove surging and toppling 
 and Mr. Wigglesworth's vertebrae sending forth a 
 creaking noise that was ominous. 
 
 "Put it down!" he grunted, as loud as his bent 
 position would admit. " What ye trying to do, any- 
 way ? " he blustered as he straightened up and glared 
 at his assistants ; " want to snap me in two ? " 
 
 " It seemed to come itself," panted Mrs. Wigglec- 
 worth, looking at the stove. 
 
 " Course it did," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth scorn- 
 fully ; " leave it alone and it would waltz clean into 
 the parlor, prob'ly, stick its pipe into the chimney and 
 go to smoking. Great stove, that 1 " he added, and 
 then stopped a few minutes to grin over the unex- 
 pected joke he'd made. 
 
 "Now ketch hold again," he ordered, and this time 
 he took the lighter end himself, while Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth and Imogene tugged with freshened zeal at the 
 opposite extremity. 
 
 Across the cluttered shed floor they went slowly 
 shuffling, their heels occasionally catching against 
 things and threatening disaster, while Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, whose tender hands were lacerating, dropped 
 hot tears from her bulging eyes and occasionally 
 hoisted up a sob.
 
 Set up the Stove 
 
 "What ye bellering at 1 " puffed Mr. Wiggles worh ; 
 " don't ye know any better than to cry all over a cast 
 iron stove and rust it ? Great household economizer, 
 you arel" 
 
 Then they came to the step that rises from the 
 shed to the kitchen door, and Mr. Wigglesworth, by 
 virtue of bearing the lighter end, essayed to take this 
 backward. 
 
 " Careful, now 1 " he shouted, as Imogene, in proof 
 that she was not exhausted, gave an energetic shove ; 
 "you ain't washing dishes this time; be a little 
 easier 1 " 
 
 Then he stepped gingerly upward and his female 
 coadjutors trailed behind. 
 
 "Lift! why don't ye lift?" he shouted, as the 
 effort of stepping upward communicated unexpected 
 weight to his burden ; " think I 'm going to do it all 
 wow!" 
 
 The concluding remark was forced out of him sud- 
 denly, as the bung leaves a fermented beer keg, by 
 the unexpected enthusiasm of Imogene, who, giving a 
 shoulder grandly, sent the stove full into Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's stomach and pinned that gentleman against 
 the kitchen door, just as the woman who lived next 
 door opened it. She had come in to borrow an un- 
 used egg, and hearing voices in the shed came out to 
 to investigate. From her account, the neighbors 
 learned how, when the door fell open, Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth shot suddenly into the back entry and plunged 
 his shoulders under the refrigerator, while the parlor
 
 Set up the Stove 
 
 stove following closely after, sat itself cosily down 
 upon his legs and so kept him from kicking holes in 
 the plastering. 
 
 " But it was dreadful," shuddered the woman who 
 lived next door, " to stand there and hear the things 
 that Mr. Wigglesworth was saying, though you 
 could n't exactly hear them, either, for his head was 
 under the refrigerator, and all the sounds were 
 muffled as they came through the zinc lining. I don't 
 know what we would have done if the iceman had n't 
 come in just then and pulled the stove off Mr. 
 Wigglesworth." 
 
 And shaking her head she passed through the 
 crowd of neighbors, bearing the borrowed egg care- 
 fully in her hand. 
 
 176
 
 Chapter XIX 
 
 Ho e w Wigglesivorth 
 Revived His 
 Shooting
 
 "'Sh!' hissed Mr. Wigglesworth with an angry whisper, 
 ' Can't ye keep quiet? She's on the point.' " Page 181.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. How Wigglesworth Revived 
 His Shooting 
 
 1 
 
 crisp October air, the brilliant foliage 
 blazing athwart the woods, the distant 
 hills floating in a languorous purple haze, 
 served to arouse all the enthusiasm with 
 which the nature of Mr. Wigglesworth is so liberally 
 endowed. He came home that evening laden with a 
 gunning outfit, borrowed of a sporting friend, and 
 towing a lank, red dog, whose tail persistently clung 
 inside his hindmost legs. 
 
 " Oh ! " screamed Mrs. Wigglesworth, as she caught 
 sight of the gun, and clapping her hands to her ears, 
 "what have you got there ? " 
 
 "What ye s'pose it is?" answered Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, yanking the refractory dog through the door ; 
 "looks like a pound of corned beef, don't it." 
 
 "Why, of course, I know it is a gun," said Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, "but do be careful of it, Ellery. 
 Ain't it loaded?" 
 
 "Loaded?" sneered Mr. Wigglesworth, kicking the 
 dog from under the lounge, "what ye think it is, a 
 freight car? Think it's been out with the boys, 
 don't ye ? Come out of that ! " he growled, snatching 
 the lank dog from the lounge whence he instantly 
 took refuge under the piano. 
 
 "He's scared," said Mrs. Wigglesworth. "Poo' 
 'ittle doggie pmsp, pmsp come here that's a 
 
 179
 
 How Wtggles e worth 
 
 nice 'ittle doggie," she coaxed, whereupon the dog 
 waltzed suddenly from his piano retreat and sprang 
 into Mrs. Wigglesworth's lap. 
 
 They got the animal tied up in the shed finally, 
 and Mr. Wigglesworth explained, as they had supper, 
 his plans for a day in the woods. 
 
 " I did n't know you could shoot," said his wife, as 
 she served the sauce. 
 
 " Shoot ? " returned Mr. Wigglesworth, " what's the 
 reason you did n't ? I was one of the greatest shots 
 in town when we lived on a farm. None of the boys 
 could get ahead of me, except the Dodley twins." 
 
 " But ain't you afraid ? " persisted Mrs Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 " Ain't that like a woman ? " retorted Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, taking the sideboard into his confidence. 
 " What ye going to be afraid of ? " 
 
 "Why, suppose," conjectured Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 " suppose your gun should go off when you were n't 
 looking, and you should get in front of it, and it 
 should shoot a hole in your neck then what would 
 you do I'd like to know?" 
 
 " What would I do ? " retorted Mr. Wigglesworth 
 with his finest sarcasm, "what ye s'pose? Breathe 
 through it, of course. That's what holes in the neck 
 are for. What d'ye think I'd do, tie a yellow ribbon 
 in it and go to a dedication ball ? Thought I'd speak 
 a piece through it, did n't ye ? " 
 
 With which airy persiflage Mr. Wigglesworth 
 regaled the table, meantime perfecting plans for the 
 
 180
 
 Revived his Shooting 
 
 morrow, agreeing, at their earnest solicitation, to take 
 his wife and Willie along, and arranging finally for an 
 early start. The early start was easy, for Mr. Wig- 
 gles worth was awake nearly all the night in a fruitless 
 attempt to stifle, by discharging things at the roof of 
 the shed, the lank dog's awful and unremitting howls. 
 
 They got over the line fence and found themselves 
 in a fair bit of meadowland with some trees and 
 bushes at the far side. Tramping across the crisp, 
 brown grass the blood in Mr. Wigglesworth's veins 
 tingled with enthusiasm. 
 
 "Oh, my!" exclaimed Mrs. Wigglesworth, "what 
 is the matter with the dog? " 
 
 " 'Sh ! " hissed Mr. Wigglesworth, with an angry 
 whisper, "can't ye keep quiet? He's on a point. 
 Don't ye know anything ? " 
 
 "What kind of a point is it, Ellery?" said Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, earnestly. 
 
 " Keep back ! " hoarsely aspirated her husband ; 
 "have some sense, can't ye? I'll nail a bird in a 
 minute. " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth crouched in the background 
 and observed the singular actions of the lank dog, 
 who stood with his head rigidly fixed and his tail 
 quivering emotionally. Mr. Wigglesworth assumed, 
 for some moments, a contorted attitude of expecta- 
 tion, and then an old hen came chuckling out of the 
 grass and the dog greeted her effusively. 
 
 "What is it, Ellery?" called Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 excitedly ; " why don't you shoot ? " 
 
 181
 
 H<yw Wigglesworth 
 
 " Why don't you keep yelling all the time ? " 
 snapped Mr. Wigglesworth ; "think I brought you 
 along to enjoy your conversation, don't ye? What ails 
 ye, you old fool 1 " he added angrily, aiming a kick at 
 the dog ; " don't ye know a hen when you see her ? " 
 
 Then they moved on. 
 
 " Now stop your yap," directed Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 " 'cause we 're right onto the birds. Steady, there, 
 steady ! " he said to the dog, who was growing stiff 
 again. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth and Willie hadn't yet got past 
 the fence. The former was crawling carefully through 
 the rails, while Willie, with boyish spirit essayed to 
 go over them, and the top rail broke at exactly the 
 right moment to let that interesting young man 
 down on his mother's back, evoking from her a 
 frightened yell that was heard by a man painting a 
 barn over behind the mountain. 
 
 Two beautiful brown partridge, startled by this 
 unwonted noise, beat the long roll on their muffled 
 drums and soared grandly away. 
 
 "There you are!" howled Mr. Wigglesworth,-danc- 
 ing up and down and brandishing his gun; "what 
 kind of a fool performance are you getting off now ? 
 Don't ye know better than to scare the game that 
 way?" 
 
 "Please help me out," pleaded Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 still fastened by the rail, and her husband did so, with 
 a suddenness that fetched her breath with it. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth moodily wiped his forehead. 
 182
 
 Revived his Shooting 
 
 " Let ' s have no more of this foolishness," he said 
 severely. " D ' ye think I came out here to act the 
 monkey for you and this boy ? " 
 
 Half an hour later it seemed an excellent day 
 for the birds, Mr. Wigglesworth thought the lank 
 dog again came to anchor on the edge of some invit- 
 ing bushes and in a moment a long-billed woodcock 
 took wing. With his old-time skill Mr. Wiggles worth's 
 gun came to shoulder, the right and left locks clicked 
 in sharp succession, and the bird, a dark brown streak, 
 vanished down the glen. 
 
 "Did you hit it?" screamed Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 from the distance. Her hands were over her ears, 
 and she had heard no report. Neither did she catch 
 her husband's answering remark. Every sportsman 
 who has thrown his gun upon a bird without previously 
 slipping in a cartridge understands that it is no moment 
 for the idle questionings of an unsympathetic woman. 
 
 " It 's awfully hot," complained Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 at the end of another hour's tramp ; " and this lunch- 
 basket 's getting heavier every minute." 
 
 So they sat down to eat. 
 
 "Why don't you shoot something?" purred Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth as they ate away. " It seems an awful 
 waste of time to walk so far and not get anything." 
 
 " You understand the whole thing, you do," growled 
 Mr. Wigglesworth. "You ought to get out another 
 book about it. 'Mrs. Wigglesworth ' s Game Birds 
 of North America, with full directions how to play 
 the game.' " 
 
 183
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 Gradually the afternoon and the high heels on 
 Mrs. Wiggles worth's shoes wore away. She never 
 knew, she said to the minister's wife, how many miles 
 they walked, because they went in large circles, but 
 it was a good many, she knew, for Ellery's shoulder 
 was all blistered, carrying the gun. The lank dog 
 times without number had gone wagging into the 
 brush, only to come back again and discouragedly sit 
 himself down and shake his head despondently. Then 
 at the last, when hope had well-nigh passed away, a 
 scent once more was struck, the dog again came 
 rigidly to point and a noble bird broke cover. 
 
 "Hit it hit itl" screamed Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth took quick aim and fired. 
 Rather, he pulled the trigger, knowing a cartridge 
 was in place, but there came no answering report. 
 With a smothered howl of rage he dashed the gun to 
 the ground. The shock produced an explosion. The 
 lank, red dog, standing expectantly in the foreground, 
 found occasion to regret that position, for the charge 
 of shot had exactly the right direction to rake a 
 channel diagonally across his back. With a shriek of 
 surprise he whirled and ran between Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's legs, upsetting that frightened gentleman, 
 and then espying Mrs. Wigglesworth sitting on a 
 rock near by, and recalling her friendly sympathy of 
 the previous evening, he precipitated himself once 
 more into that lady's lap and rolled himself rapidly 
 over and over in a vain -attempt to assuage that 
 blazing back. 
 
 184
 
 Revived his Shooting 
 
 " It will cost you $25 for shooting on my premises," 
 said a red-faced man, as the party laboredly climbed 
 the fence into the road ; and he pointed to a sign to 
 that effect. 
 
 "But I think," protested Mrs. Wigglesworth, as 
 they wended their painful way homeward, " that it 's 
 just too mean for anything to charge $25 when you 
 didn't shoot anything but just your own dog, and 
 even that was a borrowed one and, O Ellery, do 
 you suppose the man who lent you the poor dog 
 will " 
 
 "Why don't you close your head?" advised Mr. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 185
 
 Chapter XX 
 
 Ho e w Wigglesxvorth 
 
 Kept a 
 
 Horse
 
 " ' O, Ellery,' she screamed with a woman's presence of 
 mind, ' come away instantly.' " Page 192.
 
 CHAPTER XX. How Wigglesworth Kept a 
 Horse. 
 
 1 
 
 it is!" gleefully cried Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth, running to the window. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth followed in a 
 flutter. It was her birthday, and she'd 
 been hoping since morning that her husband would 
 remember it. She saw a fat, red-faced man leading a 
 tall sorrel horse into the yard. 
 
 "What what is it, Ellery?" she asked, in mild 
 wonderment. 
 
 "What is it?" echoed Mr. Wigglesworth, smartly, 
 " it's a horse, of course. Wha' d'ye s'pose it was 
 a boiled dinner ? Thought the man was leading in a 
 farm mortgage, did n't ye ? " 
 
 "And did you get it for me?" chirped Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, clapping her hands. " Oh, how good of 
 you, Ellery, to remember that it was my birthday I " 
 So she kissed her husband on his whiskers women 
 love to kiss their husbands on their whiskers and 
 putting an apron over her head she followed him out 
 of doors. The tall sorrel horse had his nose in the 
 air and was wrinkling his lips back over his forehead 
 in a peculiar fashion. Now and then he would thrust 
 one foot out toward the horizon in an impromptu 
 way, and look disappointed when the red-faced man 
 turned out to be elsewhere. 
 
 "Where'll I put 'im?" asked the red-faced man. 
 
 189
 
 H&w Wiggles t worth 
 
 He also had a hoarse voice that rumbled, and at 
 sound of which the sorrel horse would stand up in the 
 air till he felt the red-faced man's fat weight at the 
 end of the halter, and then he would come down 
 again, reaching for the red-faced man as he did so, 
 but unfortunately missing him again. After some 
 trouble the animal was got into the stall in the little 
 stable and the red-faced man went away, while Imo- 
 gene came out and gathered up the line-full of clothes 
 that had been cast down and stepped on. 
 
 " You see, it's this way," Mr. Wigglesworth ex- 
 plained in a voice of pride, as they were eating 
 supper ; " I thought it would be a good thing for 
 you to have a horse this spring, and get out of doors 
 more. So I went to a man I know and told him 
 what I wanted, and he's sent up just the thing a 
 woman's driving horse one that a child can handle. 
 Quite a surprise, wasn't it?" he added, with the 
 self-complacency that a man assumes in doing a thing 
 without consulting his wife. 
 
 " Oh, it's too delightful for anything ! " cooed Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth. " But do you think I can drive him ? 
 Doesn't he seem rather er tall ? Not so awfully 
 tall," she hastened to add, noting her husband's fall- 
 ing countenance, " but but just 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course," said Mr. Wigglesworth, hold- 
 ing his knife and fork on end and addressing the 
 sideboard, "he's too tall. I oughter thought of that. 
 Might have looked around and found one with short 
 legs, so the hired girl could go over him with the 
 
 190
 
 Kept a Horse 
 
 carpet sweeper. That's the kind of a horse for us 1 " 
 
 They talked the matter over after supper. Mr. 
 Wigglesworth said he was going to take care of the 
 animal himself, as what he needed in the spring was 
 exercise, to work the accumulated sluggishness of 
 winter out of his blood. Mrs. Wigglesworth said 
 she was going to learn to put the bridle onto 'him 
 onto the horse without standing on a chair, and 
 afternoons, she said, she would drive around by the 
 office and bring her husband home to supper, for she 
 knew how tired he must be after a hard day's work. 
 
 There was considerable pawing around in the stable 
 during the night. 
 
 " Don't you think you best take the lantern and go 
 see if everything is all right ? " Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 suggested. "Perhaps his blanket has slipped off." 
 
 "Well, it'll stay slipped off for all of me," retorted 
 her husband. " Want me to go out and get stepped 
 on, don't ye ? Think it would be a good idea to stir 
 up his pillow and put a hot water bottle to his feet, I 
 s ' pose. Guess he's used to sleeping alone. Probably 
 he's having strange dreams, first time in a new stable, 
 so. Nightmare, prob ' ly." This conceit so amused 
 Mr. Wigglesworth that he lay awake a long time 
 chuckling at it. 
 
 But early in the morning, just as the first rays of 
 dawn were slanting downward over Sawyer's barn, 
 there was a succession of tremendous noises that 
 called Mr. Wigglesworth hastily from bed, and he 
 rushed, half-dressed, toward the stable. When Mrs. 
 
 191
 
 Haw Wigglesworth 
 
 Wigglesworth soon after got there, her blood stood 
 still with horror of the sight that met her gaze. The 
 tall sorrel horse had his two front legs over the side 
 of the stall, and with his neck stretched to the farth- 
 est limits of the halter was making frantic gestures 
 toward Mr. Wigglesworth, who had climbed hastily 
 upon a feed-box in the corner and was convulsively 
 clinging to the wall, with a look on his face that his 
 wife never had seen there before. 
 
 " Oh, Ellery ! " she screamed, with a woman's ready 
 presence of mind ; " come away instantly 1 " 
 
 " Come away 1 " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, making 
 himself still flatter against the wall as the sorrel horse 
 essayed another grab and tore off one of his suspend- 
 ers, " oh, of course that ' s it that ' s all I want to 
 do just wave my hand to the conductor and get 
 aboard and ring two bells and go ahead 1 Would n' t 
 have thought of that if you hadn't wow!" and he 
 fetched another shriek as the sorrel stretched the hal- 
 ter an added inch and snorted a cupful of foam down 
 Mr. Wigglesworth' s neck. 
 
 " What ye standing there for ? " he yelled. " Don't 
 ye see I can't move without losing my life and all 
 I v'e got on ? " 
 
 "What shall I do?" wailed his wife, wringing her 
 hands. 
 
 " Do ? Why get an axe and chop his blamed old 
 head off 1 Go get a wood auger and bore a hole in 
 him somewhere and see if that won't take his atten- 
 tion? Go" 
 
 192
 
 Kept a Horse 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth was. a woman who could be 
 roused to momentous situations. She came down 
 from the stairs and waved her apron gently. 
 
 " Shoo ! " she said to the sorrel horse. 
 
 "That's it!" her husband cried, "that's the way 
 to shoo a horse ! " and ghastly as the humor seemed 
 to be he found himself smiling at it. But his wonder 
 redoubled when the sorrel horse, after looking at 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth for a moment with a surprised 
 air, slipped demurely down from the edge of the stall 
 and began scratching his neck reflectively on the 
 manger. 
 
 " There you are," said Mr. Wigglesworth, climbing 
 down from the box and cautiously approaching the 
 stall. The animal had his eyes closed, and Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth as he took hold of the halter, remembering 
 his suspender, could not forbear giving it a vicious 
 little jerk. 
 
 What followed, Mrs. Wigglesworth explained to 
 the doctors. The tall sorrel, she said, when he felt 
 the jerk at the halter, seemed to turn and shoot a 
 hasty but astonished look at her husband. Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth's hands appeared glued to the halter, she 
 said, for when the sorrel stood up on his hind legs 
 and walked out of the stall, Mr. Wigglesworth came 
 with him, swinging back and forth like the pendulum 
 to a clock, only faster. When the sorrel got out in 
 the barn floor he looked around for Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, but failing to discover her at first, he per- 
 formed a few complicated dance movements, such as
 
 Hem) Wigglesworth 
 
 circus horses make, leaving portions of Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's clothing and cuticle upon the studding and 
 rafters of the stable as he went along. Then he put 
 his arm around that gentleman and charged out of 
 doors. Imogene had just time to look over her 
 shoulder and see the procession coming, and then 
 drop her clothes basket and crawl under the stoop. 
 When the sorrel horse came down, again missing 
 Imogene by an inch, he put his off hind foot through 
 the clothes basket and wore it away with him. 
 
 It made one of the best items of news the local 
 paper ever printed, and even got copied into a city 
 daily, with pictures. People coming out of their 
 houses would see Mr. Wigglesworth every few 
 minutes going into the air, and then coming down, 
 closely followed by the sorrel horse, with his leg 
 thrust through the basket, and accumulating mud 
 which ever and anon he would shake off upon the 
 bystanders as he went hurtling past. 
 
 Half an hour later Mr. Wigglesworth climbed 
 slowly up the stoop, a fragment of the halter, ap- 
 parently forgotten, showing in his hands. 
 
 " My darling, darling Ellery ! " sobbed his wife, 
 with a pale face, tottering forward. 
 
 " Don't ye fall on me 1 " warned Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 the passionate lines on his face growing deeper; 
 " don't ye come whining around here asking for any 
 more family horses warranted to stand without hitch- 
 ing ! The kind of a family horse you want is a gen- 
 tle, long-eared donkey, and blamed if I don't wish 
 you'd got one before you ever saw me 1 " 
 
 194
 
 Kept a. Horse 
 
 And in explaining it afterwards to the minister's 
 wife, Mrs. Wigglesworth said it did seem queer that 
 Ellery should lay it all onto her, when the horse was 
 just as much of a surprise to her as it was to any- 
 body. Especially Mr. Wigglesworth.
 
 Chapter XXI 
 
 H<yw Wiggles e worth 
 Cared for Wether- 
 bee's Oleander
 
 "Therefore they knew that the weight of the oleander had 
 temporarily unhinged his reason." Page 204.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. How Wigglesworth Cared 
 for Wetherbee's Oleander 
 
 HAT'S that?" coldly inquired Mr. 
 Wigglesworth on coming home to 
 supper. 
 
 In the corner of the room stood a 
 tall, tree-like plant that he 'd never seen before. 
 
 "It's an oleander," chirped Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 waving her arms toward the shrub with a gesture of 
 delight. 
 
 " Humph ! " grunted Mr. Wigglesworth, regarding 
 it with an unfavorable eye with two unfavorable 
 eyes, in fact. 
 
 The oleander stood six feet high, and its spread of 
 limb was surprising, disclosing branches that em- 
 bodied every variety of twist and displayed their 
 eccentricity the more that a larger part of their 
 foliage had fallen off. Moreover, it reared itself from 
 a large, round tub painted a bright blue color, and 
 over the dirt in which the roots were embedded 
 trailed a variety of spools and scraps of paper and 
 cotton cloth and charred matches and hairpins and 
 other things that indoor plants understand so well 
 how to accumulate. 
 
 "Yes," added Mrs. Wigglesworth, as they sat down 
 to supper, " it is a present from Mrs. Wetherbee. She 
 heard me saying that mother used to have an oleander 
 when I was a girl, and so she sent this one over today. 
 
 199
 
 Ho e w Wiggle&worth 
 
 You know they are going South to spend the winter, 
 Ellery, so, of course, they won't need it." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth worked the point of his knife 
 into another biscuit. 
 
 " I think it was awfully nice of Mrs. Wetherbee," 
 added Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "That's so," assented her husband; "great phil- 
 anthropists, them Wetherbees. Prob'ly wanted to 
 take it South with .'em but thinkin' you ' d be lonesome 
 with nobody but a hired girl to talk to they sent it 
 over here. That ' s the kind of neighbors the Wether- 
 bees are." 
 
 " Will will you help me with it, after supper ? " 
 ventured Mrs. Wigglesworth, timidly. 
 
 " Help ye with it ? " repeated Mr. Wigglesworth in 
 a tone of surprise. 
 
 " Yes," explained his wife, playing nervously with 
 the hem of the tablecloth, " it's it's got to go down 
 cellar, you know." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth laid his knife and fork on the 
 table and stared stonily at his wife. 
 
 "What's the matter with its taking up the east 
 half of the sitting room ? " he demanded, recovering 
 his tongue. " Can't ye find room for Wigglesworth 
 in the parlor? Put Wigglesworth out in the front 
 hall, can't ye ? " 
 
 "They always do keep them in the cellar, winters," 
 pouted Mrs. Wigglesworth, following her husband to 
 the other room. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth regarded the oleander, standing 
 
 200
 
 Cared for Wetherbee's Oleander 
 
 stiffly erect, and a look of malevolence invaded his 
 features. 
 
 "Think I'm going to saw a hole in the floor?" he 
 demanded sourly. 
 
 " Can't you carry it down stairs ? " Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth suggested. 
 
 "Perhaps I could if I were a derrick," retorted her 
 husband. "What d'ye think I am, an elevator? 
 Pull a wire rope and I'll go to the fourth floor with a 
 load of fat women, you prob'ly think." 
 
 Stooping under the lower branches of the plant, he 
 made a sudden snatch at the tub handles and tore one 
 of them away. 
 
 "That's a nice kind of a tub to send out oleanders 
 in, ain't it ? " he cried, and he kicked off some of the 
 blue paint. 
 
 " Here ' s Imogene," said Mrs. Wigglesworth ; " she'll 
 help you." 
 
 " You get under there and catch hold of the bottom 
 of the tub," ordered Mr. Wigglesworth, and the hired 
 girl did so. " Now lift her over," he added, " while I 
 grab the thing around the waist." 
 
 " Oh ! " screamed Mrs. Wigglesworth, who was hold- 
 ing open the door, " you ' re hitting the chandelier 1 " 
 
 Even as she called there was a spluttering crash, 
 the chandelier rocked violently and one of the globes 
 fell from its moorings. Inevitably it would have 
 smashed on the floor, had it not been neatly inter- 
 cepted by Mr. Wiggles worth's head, on which it 
 perched itself with notable airiness. 
 
 2OI
 
 Wiggles e worth 
 
 " Wow ! " yelled Mr. Wigglesworth, for the gas had 
 been long enough lighted to heat the globe to a lively 
 temperature. Only for a few brief seconds did it 
 hold its coign of vantage only, in short, while Mr. 
 Wigglesworth was prancing through the folding doors 
 into the parlor and back again, lashing the air with 
 his arms and screaming, and then he discovered what 
 the matter was and hurled the offending globe through 
 a window. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth put some witch hazel upon her 
 husband's bald top, around which the globe had 
 scorched a little brown nimbus. 
 
 " Be careful what you're doing, now," he growled 
 to Imogene, and they got the oleander to the top of 
 the cellar stairs, while Mrs. Wigglesworth stayed behind 
 to pick up the remains of an imitation marble statue 
 and a picture of Napoleon in the act of crossing the 
 Alps on a horse with three legs in the air at one time, 
 which the young tree had clawed from the walls in 
 passing. 
 
 " Let me get ahead there," commanded Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, and he crawled under the oleander and squeezed 
 himself into the narrow cellarway, along with Imogene 
 and the tub. "What ails the thing?" he muttered, 
 pulling at the tree, which had become wedged in the 
 door ; " why don't it come through ? " 
 
 " It ain't short enough," said the hired girl. 
 
 "Ain't short enough?" retorted Mr. Wiggleworth, 
 " what ye think it is pie crust ? Want to get a 
 chance to put in two pounds more of that thirty-cent 
 butter, don't ye ? " 
 
 202
 
 Cared for Wetherbee's Oleander 
 
 With extraordinary exercise of energy Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth rocked the tub forward and back. 
 
 "What makes the thing stick so?" he panted, 
 straining anew. "What ye doing on the other end 
 there?" he called to his wife. 
 
 "I'm holding it," Mrs. Wigglesworth answered, 
 "just as tight as I can, Ellery, so it won't slip down 
 cellar and crush you." 
 
 Earnestly desiring to do the most helpful thing in 
 the world, Mrs. Wigglesworth had grasped the end 
 of the oleander that projected into the kitchen, and 
 with her feet braced against the pantry door was hold- 
 ing on till her eyes stood out. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth fairly snorted in his wrath. 
 
 "Leggo of it!" he roared passionately. "Think 
 I ' m going to pull my lungs out in this dark cellarway 
 and step on 'em ? Get off the end of that tree ! " 
 
 When Mrs. Wigglesworth released her hold, the 
 oleander, sensible of the momentum that Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's energy had imparted to it, smiled an almost 
 human smile and did what every oleander has done 
 since Adam, as a personal favor to Eve, undertook to 
 carry the primal oleander down into their cave cellar. 
 Imogene, giving voice to a single shriek, cleared the 
 stairs at a bound and scuttled behind the furnace. 
 
 "Get out stop it take it off wowl" roared 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, but the narrow walls kept back 
 his cries from the police and there was none to help. 
 
 Imogene, peering in fright around the furnace, saw 
 a bright blue procession shoot down the stairs. Even 
 
 203
 
 Cared for Wetherbee's Oleander 
 
 as it passed, the oleander, with a light and frolicsome 
 laugh, reached up and removed from the surrounding 
 shelves and hooks such pans and kettles and crocks of 
 milk and things put by on plates to warm up for break- 
 fast as it could lay its hands upon, and with these to 
 aid and abet its flight it kept on to where a brick 
 chimney, arising near the foot of the stairs, arrested 
 its progress. 
 
 " Ellery my darling Ellery 1 " called Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, peering agonizedly down through the dust. 
 
 She^aw her husband prone upon his back, wedged 
 against the chimney. The tub had fallen squarely 
 upon him, and bursting its hoops had sifted the dirt 
 over him in a huge conical pile, out of which the 
 oleander strutted aloft, wearing upon its triumphant 
 branches a variety of things which she hadn't time to 
 enumerate. 
 
 Uttering a shriek, Mrs. Wigglesworth bolted for 
 the neighbors. 
 
 When they got back they found Mr. Wigglesworth 
 and the hired girl dodging each other around the fur- 
 nace. Mr. Wigglesworth had a jug in his hand, out 
 of which flowed a stream of molasses, and as this 
 trickled down the knees of his trousers, he laughed 
 horribly. 
 
 Therefore they knew that the weight of the oleander 
 had temporarily unhinged his reason. 
 
 204
 
 Chapter XXII 
 
 Ho e w Wiggles<worth 
 Studied Art
 
 " ' Is is that oatmeal ?' he slowly inquired." Page 210.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. How Wigglesworth Studied 
 
 Art 
 
 MRS. WIGGLESWORTH had her face 
 knit up into the expression that goes 
 along with critical admiration, and she 
 stood alternately thrusting her head 
 forward and drawing it back again, then directing a 
 side glance, then projecting a number of little nods 
 and tapping her foot gently. 
 
 "What ye acting out now?" grinned Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth from the door. 
 
 " Oh ! " said his wife, with a little scream, " is it 
 you, Ellery?" 
 
 "'Course it's me," returned Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 plucking off his coat with emphasis, for things had 
 gone ill at the office; "can't ye identify your own 
 husband? Thought it was the man with the iron 
 mask, didn't ye? What ye got there?" 
 
 "It's a pastel," cooed Mrs. Wigglesworth, coming 
 back to the object of her previous solicitations ; " I 've 
 just finished it, in our painting class, you know. Mrs. 
 Wetherbee says she thinks it is nice." 
 
 " Humph ! " commented Mr. Wigglesworth, going 
 up to the table, " what kind of a thing is it ? What 's 
 it all about ? " 
 
 "You're too near," said Mrs. Wigglesworth; "you 
 must stand at this distance if you want the particu- 
 lars to resolve themselves into their just proportions." 
 
 207
 
 Wigglesworth 
 
 " Huh ! " hooted Mr. Wigglesworth, resenting the 
 air of superiority with which his wife delivered this 
 information ; " how do you know where I want to 
 stand ? Where d 'ye get all that purple paint ? Must 
 be the expensive kind, you use so much of it." 
 
 "It's an impressionist picture," explained Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth with an air ; " the colors are laid in 
 broadly, you know." 
 
 " I sh'd say they was," sneered Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 " I sh'd think they was laid in for Winter use, with 
 the idea that it was going to be a hard Winter. What 
 d'ye call the thing, anyway ? What's that freight en- 
 gine doing out there all by itself?" 
 
 " It isn't a freight engine," answered Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth severely ; " it's an old mill. The picture is called 
 'The Old Mill by Moonlight.' It's a winter scene, 
 you know." 
 
 " I know," assented Mr. Wigglesworth, nodding his 
 head with intelligent affability. " I see it is. All that 
 purple paint is the snow, prob'ly." 
 
 " Yes," replied Mrs. Wigglesworth, glad to note 
 her husband's interest. 
 
 "What makes 'em have purple snow?" asked Mr. 
 Wigglesworth with the affected manner of the true 
 seeker after knowledge. "When I was a boy the 
 snow used to be a deep red, except when the sun got 
 warm, and then it was a dark green." 
 
 "Oh, that's the new art," replied Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth; "we we mass the colors, you understand." 
 
 "Oh, yes," said her husband, "I understand. 
 
 208
 
 Studied Art 
 
 What's that balloon doing over behind that picket 
 fence ? " 
 
 "That isn't a balloon," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, a 
 little nettled, " nor a picket fence either ; it's the moon 
 rising above a distant range of wooded hills." 
 
 "Why, that's so," acknowledged Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 standing on his other foot and shutting up one eye ; 
 "I might have known that 'cause it's painted yellow. 
 What's that orphan asylum got to do with it ? " 
 
 "Ellery Wigglesworth," said his wife sternly, while 
 her face flushed, " you know as well as I do that there 
 isn't any such thing. That's the the dam." 
 
 "Well named, too," muttered Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 grinning effusively. 
 
 "You ought to be ashamed," said Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, sternly, " to make such low remarks right be- 
 fore your own son." 
 
 "I didn't say anything," retorted Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth. " What did I say ? " he continued, appealing 
 to the chandelier. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth got out her handkerchief. 
 
 " I 'm sure," she said tearfully, " I thought you 
 would be be glad to see a a picture of mine 
 and and proud." 
 
 "Well, I am, ain't I?" said Mr. Wigglesworth; 
 " don't ye hear me trying to find out its good points ? 
 How d 'ye s'pose I 'd know what it was, coming on it 
 the first time so, all alone ? They did n't have such 
 pictures when I was a boy." 
 
 "It's only a recent thing," chirped Mrs. Wiggles- 
 
 2P9
 
 Ho e w Wiggtesworth 
 
 worth, regaining her good nature ; " you get used to 
 it after a time." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth had a newspaper rolled into a 
 tube and was peering through it fixedly. 
 
 "Is is that oatmeal?" he slowly inquired after 
 another moment of study. 
 
 " Is what ? " returned Mrs. Wigglesworth, and then 
 she bit her lips. 
 
 "That yellow stuff near what you call the the 
 dam?" said her husband. 
 
 " That's the water," replied Mrs. Wigglesworth ; 
 " don't you see it is trickling down over the old wheel, 
 and that it is frozen here and there ? " 
 
 " Is that a wheel ? " asked Mr. Wigglesworth in a 
 cordial tone ; " it looks so red I thought it must be 
 a patent farming implement of some kind that had 
 been left outdoors so as to be handy in case of an 
 early Spring. Er what kind of a wheel did you 
 say it was ? " he added, with a kindly interest. 
 
 " A mill wheel of course," snapped Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, going down after her handkerchief again , 
 " what kind of a wheel did you think it would be next 
 to a mill ? " 
 
 " How d'ye s'pose I knew ? " bristled Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, a momentary flash of his old manner taking 
 the place of the light and easy banter which he had 
 assumed ; " impossible to say what kind of a wheel 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth would put into her purple art. If 
 that's a mill wheel," he went on, coming back to his 
 role of truth seeking, " and you give me your word of 
 
 210
 
 Studied Art 
 
 honor that that yellow stuff is water and not oatmeal, 
 how d'ye come to get the water so much lower in the 
 pond than it is where it flows over the dam ? What 
 makes " 
 
 " Ellery Wiggles worth," sobbed his wife, " you 
 you know this is my first picture, and it ain't ain't 
 fair to to criticise it that way. You have to sit 
 back and look at at these im impressionist pic- 
 tures some sometimes half an hour, and then when 
 you you look and and look, it dawns upon you 
 
 all of a sudden and and the broad colors look 
 
 look beautiful and you can only make fun, when 
 I did it to surprise you, and I think it mean mean 
 of you, Ellery Wiggles worth to " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth flung out of the room. 
 
 " That 's it ; that 's the way ! " he cried, as he went 
 up stairs to comb his hair; "man works his life out 
 at the office to buy his wife clothes and purple paint 
 and stuff, and when he comes home tired to death, 
 and tries to have a little fun in his family, same as 
 the articles in scrapbooks advise, everybody pitches 
 in and spoils it." 
 
 "Great old artist you are, ain't ye?" he called, 
 raising his voice above the noise of the bath-room 
 faucet ; " I '11 bet a dollar you can't tell a chiar oscuro 
 from a tube of yellow squash. You and Aubrey 
 Beardsley better start a shop together. That 's the 
 stuff 1 Wigglesworth & Beardsley, dealers in all kinds 
 of paint, oil, glass, putty, et cetera. Signs painted 
 on fences and barns during the owner's absence. Call 
 
 211
 
 Studied Art 
 
 on Mrs. Wigglesworth when in want of pictures to 
 surprise your husbands with. N. B. Liberal reduc- 
 tion to people furnishing their own paint." 
 
 And though Mr. Wigglesworth ran on thus for a 
 considerable period, his voice mounting with the in- 
 creased fineness of its sarcasm, his wife's sobs were 
 so much louder and more closely connected that he 
 found his efforts wasted. 
 
 212
 
 Chapter XXIII 
 
 Wiggles t worth 
 Helped His Wife 
 Receive
 
 " ' Want to keep me here grinding this old crank till Christ- 
 mas, don't ye ? ' " Page 219.
 
 CHAPTER XXIILHou> Wigglesworth Helped 
 His Wife Receive 
 
 f^" ~"^HE invitations to Mrs. Wigglesworth's 
 
 afternoon reception had been out a week, 
 
 the front parlor was becomingly set off 
 
 with asparagus green and the brightness 
 
 of autumn leaves, and it looked as if the thing was 
 
 going to be one of the nicest social events of the 
 
 season. 
 
 "They'll begin coming at four o'clock," Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth said at dinner, " and everything is ready 
 but the ice cream. You'll have to send up a man for 
 that." 
 
 "I'd like to know what for?" said Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 "Why, to freeze it, of course," explained his wife. 
 " It's awfully hard work turning the crank an hour." 
 
 " Humph ! " grumbled Mr. Wigglesworth, who held 
 a man's opinion concerning an afternoon function ; 
 " seems to me you and that hired girl might find time 
 to twist a galvanized iron crank around a few minutes 
 without subjecting me to extra expense. Want to 
 ruin me ? " 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth," returned his wife severely, 
 " do you think I'm going to put on my best dress and 
 freeze ice cream while the first ladies in town are 
 arriving every minute and having to be talked to ? " 
 
 " B-a-a-h-h 1 " commented Mr. Wigglesworth ; "where 
 
 215
 
 Ho e w Wigglesworth 
 
 is this freezer! I'll show ye how to coin a dollar." 
 
 Down in the cellar Mrs. Wigglesworth had made 
 everything ready. There was the freezer, borrowed 
 of a neighbor, duly filled with six quarts of liquid, and 
 there were ice and salt and other things necessary. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth loaded the salt and ice into the 
 wooden cylinder and gave the crank a few preliminary 
 revolutions. 
 
 " Don't see anything the matter with this, do ye ? " 
 he asked. " Don't know's you like to have a dollar 
 saved. Rather make folks think ye'd spent a fortune, 
 prob'ly." 
 
 Merrily twirled the crank, while Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 crowded in some more pounded ice. 
 
 " Regular picnic, this is," said Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 " side of the old churn I used to work when I was a 
 boy. Mother used to keep me at it all the time. 
 Said that one good churn deserves another he, he, 
 he!" 
 
 " What did she mean by that ? " Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 innocently asked. 
 
 " What did she mean by that ? " tartly retorted Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, whose muscles began to feel it ; "what 
 does anybody mean by anything? Can't ye under- 
 stand a joke when it 's shown to ye ? " 
 
 " I don't see any joke in your mother saying that 
 one good churn deserves another," Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 persisted. " If she had one churn I should think that 
 would be nice, but how could it deserve " 
 
 "Y-a-h-hl" said Mr. Wigglesworth, grinding sav- 
 216
 
 Helped His Wife Receive 
 
 agely away ; " what 's the use to try and have any fun 
 with you ? You couldn 't see a joke if it was pasted 
 on the end of the Lick telescope. Quit jamming in 
 that ice ! " he shouted, as the machine went a trifle 
 harder ; " want to stop the thing ? " 
 
 " It ain't me," Mrs. Wigglesworth mildly rejoined ; 
 " it 's the cream beginning to harden." - 
 
 "Great lot you know about it ! " grumbled her hus- 
 band, pausing to wipe the perspiration from his brow. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth said she must now go and 
 "dress" and with a few encouraging words vanished 
 up the stairs. Mr. Wigglesworth turned on, pausing 
 now and then to mop off his forehead and mutter 
 things to himself. 
 
 Every man of a weak and yielding nature who has 
 allowed himself once to be bound to the chariot 
 wheels of the ice-cream freezer can recall with ghastly 
 clearness how the lemon-colored mixture on the in- 
 terior of the tin can, after reaching a certain degree 
 of hardness, appears to be content to remain there. 
 Round and round spun the handle, Mr. Wigglesworth 
 pausing at intervals to gloomily contemplate the grow- 
 ing blisters on the palms of his hands. 
 
 Overhead he could hear the shuffling of feet as 
 visitors arrived and went stiffly through the ceremonies 
 of introduction. 
 
 " Oh, Ellery," hoarsely wailed Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 rushing half-way down the stairs, " can't you hurry 
 up? Everybody's coming and it's dreadful to give 
 them only tea, and they looking around and wonder- 
 
 217
 
 Wigglesworth 
 
 ing what the table is for with dishes on it, and no ice- 
 cream 1 " 
 
 "What ye s'pose I care?" returned Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, wanting to yell, but forced to keep his voice 
 under; "think I've got nothing to do but prance 
 around here twisting a blamed old hand organ ? You 
 go on back and shake hands with the rest of them 
 rubberneck females, will ye, and let me alone I " 
 
 " What is that singular rumbling noise ? " asked one 
 of the guests, a little later. 
 
 "I I don't hear anything," faltered Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, forcing a distorted smile into her face. 
 
 " I hear something," said another guest, a thin, little 
 woman with an inquisitive tone. " Hark ! " 
 
 The roomful of ladies congealed into silence. There 
 was small need of Mrs. Wigglesworth's dissimulation. 
 From beneath their feet, muffled by the carpeted floor, 
 came a strange series of noises, the burr of machinery, 
 it might be, punctuated by a grunting sound as of a 
 railroad engine getting under way, and now and then 
 a thud like a man falling out of a balloon and alight- 
 ing on the roof of a Presbyterian church. 
 
 " Burglars 1 " lucidly cried a fat woman in a red 
 dress ; " they 're boring their way in through the cel- 
 lar wall 1 " And she stood up in a chair. 
 
 Then, just as everybody was turning pale and get- 
 ting ready to talk all at once, the mixture which for 
 two hours had gone on making Mr. Wigglesworth 
 madder, suddenly went thick, and the dasher, revolv- 
 ing slower, quickly exhausted his remaining strength. 
 
 218
 
 Helped His Wife Receive 
 
 " Gash flummux the old thing ! " he yelled, losing 
 all regard for the society event overhead ; " what ails 
 it now? " and he twitched the machine savagely across 
 the cellar floor. " Why don't ye twist around here, 
 same 's ye been doing since I tackled ye last spring ? " 
 he bellowed, and he flung it against the granite wall. 
 " Want to keep me here grinding this old crank till 
 Christmas, don't ye?" and he knocked down one of 
 the furnace pipes with it. " But I want ye to under- 
 stand," he howled, in a finishing blaze of wrath, as the 
 falling pipe struck his head and emptied a load of soot 
 on him, " that I don't propose to spend my life in this 
 cellar grinding out frozen porridge for a lot of females 
 to spill all over a new spring carpet 1 " 
 
 And grabbing an axe he stove in the freezer's metal- 
 lic head. To his surprise he found the cream frozen 
 beautifully. 
 
 219
 
 Chapter XXIV 
 
 Ho c w Wiggle&worth 
 Learned to Solder
 
 " At that instant Imogene * * * suddenly opened the door 
 with a snap that was imparted to the vertebrae of Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth." Page 228.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. How Wiggleswortb 
 Learned to Solder 
 
 ELLERY," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, as her 
 husband was leaving the table, " I wish 
 you'd take the tea kettle along with you." 
 Mr. Wigglesworth stayed the tooth- 
 pick halfway to his mouth, and gave utterance to a 
 stare. 
 
 "What would I be taking a tea kettle along with 
 me for?" he asked coldly. "Think I'm going to 
 have a five o'clock slander meeting at the office ? 
 Reckon I'm a female sewing circle, don't ye ?" 
 
 " I mean," explained his wife, " that you take it to 
 the tin shop and have the handle mended. It's so 
 loose that Imogene scalds her hand every time she 
 touches it." 
 
 "Well," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, "she hadn't 
 ought to touch her hand if that's the way it acts." 
 
 Winking humorously at himself in the glass Mr. 
 Wigglesworth set out for the office. Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth sighed, as women will. Also she wondered 
 how many times more she would have to mention the 
 kettle before her husband would get mad enough to 
 take it along with him. 
 
 Women who have husbands of their own can join 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth in this speculation. 
 
 "There!" said Mr. Wigglesworth, with an air of 
 importance on coming home to dinner, " there's some- 
 
 223
 
 Ho e w Wigglesworth 
 
 thing that'll save us hundreds of dollars in the course 
 of a year," and he laid a long, narrow pasteboard box 
 on the table. 
 
 " It's a soldering outfit," he explained, taking off 
 the cover. " Here's the iron and the solder and the 
 rosum, and the whole business." 
 
 Mrs. Wiggleswooth clapped her hands. 
 
 "O-o-o-o-h-h 1 " she screamed in a lengthened note 
 of admiration, " won't that be ever so nice ! And you 
 can mend the tea kettle, can't you, Ellery ? " 
 
 " Of course I can," returned Mr. Wigglesworth in 
 a comprehensive manner. " What ye s'pose I got it 
 for to raise bread with? Think I'm going to set 
 hens with it, don't ye ? " 
 
 "I'm sure it will be ever so splendid," assented his 
 wife as she served the gravy. 
 
 " Only cost a dollar," pursued Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 " and there's solder enough there to mend a cartload 
 of things. I'll bet I'll save nine or ten dollars in 
 mending this year. These tin knockers tuck the 
 charges right to a fellow when they get a chance." 
 
 "Of course they do," chimed in Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. "The only way to be economical is to save 
 in these directions. I remember that Uncle Horace, 
 who had such long whiskers you remember, Ellery 
 used to say that he had probably saved over two 
 thousand dollars in his lifetime by not shaving." 
 
 "H'm!" answered Mr. Wigglesworth, who wasn't 
 interested in having his wife's relatives brought into 
 his household economics, " seeing as he never had a 
 
 234
 
 Learned to Solder 
 
 cent while he lived, and then died poor, I don't see as 
 that cuts any ice." 
 
 "It's the principle of the thing that I look at," 
 said Mrs. Wigglesworth, shaking her head. 
 
 "Great lots you know about it," girded her hus- 
 band. "They'll be hearing of you in Washington 
 next, and telegraphing you to come on and superin- 
 tend a bond issue. Where 's this kettle you 've been 
 making such a fuss about? Why don't ye have it 
 out here if you want it mended? " 
 
 Sailing into the kitchen in his impulsive manner 
 Mr. Wigglesworth saw the kettle on the stove and 
 caught it up quickly in fact before his wife's word 
 of caution could avail. It was a round, fat kettle, 
 with a saucy little nose, and the loose handle pre- 
 viously indicated, which, as it felt Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 hasty grasp, gave vent to a low, sputtering laugh, 
 and slipped out of its fastening. A hot spurt of 
 water instantly unloaded upon Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 knees. 
 
 " Wow ! " yelled that gentleman, grabbing himself 
 by the legs and limping about the kitchen ; "I'm 
 scalt my leg's burnt to a crisp! What fool left 
 that boiling water with such a handle as that on it?" 
 
 " It's the way it has been for several weeks," ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Wigglesworth, "Imogene has been 
 burned twenty times." 
 
 " What ye s'pose I care for your Imogenes ? " snorted 
 Mr. Wigglesworth. " I'll bet five dollars she left it 
 there on purpose to scald me." 
 
 225
 
 H<yw Wigglesworth 
 
 Several minutes of limping and growling sufficed 
 to bring him back to the business in hand. The 
 kettle was emptied, and then taken to the sink, and 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth bidden to steady it. 
 
 " It it's awfully hot," she said, touching the 
 kettle gingerly with her hands. 
 
 "Poh!" retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, "what if it is? 
 Can't ye stand a little thing like that for the sake of 
 saving a few dollars ? " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth read the directions over carefully 
 and rolled up his sleeves. Having previously removed 
 his shoes and put on dry stockings, he felt himself, in 
 his stocking feet, to be in particularly good working 
 order. 
 
 "This is something like it," he said, flourishing the 
 soldering iron. He owned to a passing feeling of 
 regret that all the tin dishes in the house were n't in 
 need of repairs. 
 
 First he sprinkled some rosin over the severed ends 
 of the tea kettle's handle. 
 
 " What 's that ? " asked Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 " Rosum," curtly replied her husband ; " wha' d 'ye 
 think it was fig paste? Thought it was vanilla 
 soup, didn't ye?" 
 
 "What is it for?" pursued Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "What is it for?" repeated Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 thrusting the iron into the cook-stove fire, " wha' d'ye 
 s 'pose ? " 
 
 " I did n't know," answered his wife meekly. 
 
 "Well, who said ye did?" retorted Mr. Wiggles- 
 226
 
 Learned to Solder 
 
 worth smartly, and there Mrs. Wiggles worth's first 
 lesson in chemistry ended. 
 
 Forth from the fire came the iron, red hot. Hold- 
 ing the bar of solder in one hand, Mr. Wigglesworth 
 applied the iron to it, and presently bright drops of 
 the melted mettle poured down upon the kettle. Some 
 of them striking the handle jarred off the rosin and 
 then sprang merrily for the back of Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth's hand. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! " screamed that lady, promptly 
 releasing the kettle and thrusting her hand into her 
 mouth. 
 
 "Wha' d'ye want to do that for?" shouted Mr. 
 Wigglesworth in a burst of anger. 
 
 "I I didn't do anything," sniffed his wife. 
 "Yes, ye did, too," growled Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 " You went and let go your hold and jerked the handle 
 apart. How d'ye suppose I can mend a thing in 
 that way ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth steadfastly refusing to lend an- 
 other hand, and Imogene having long since sought 
 refuge on the back stairs, Mr. Wigglesworth with a 
 muttered remark took the kettle in his lap, adjusted 
 the erring handle, applied his rosin and brought the 
 heated iron once more into contact with the solder. 
 
 It was a moment of intense interest. From the 
 pantry door Mrs. Wigglesworth, hand in mouth, looked 
 on in a species of fascination. 
 
 Above the smoking iron bent the inflamed coun- 
 tenance of Mr. Wigglesworth, his eyes bulging out 
 
 227
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 and his breathing labored. All other sounds were 
 stilled and the clock on the wall ticked ominously. 
 
 Then the mass of solder, held with painful careful- 
 ness, reached its melting point. At that instant 
 Imogene, from her retreat on the back stairs, fancying 
 by the stillness that the coast was clear, suddenly 
 opened the door with a snap that was imparted to the 
 vertebrae of Mr. Wigglesworth. In a flash the liquid 
 metal slipped out of his grasp and with the instinct 
 of gravitation dropped upon Mr. Wigglesworth's stock- 
 ings. 
 
 Hired girls may come and hired girls may go, and 
 tne last one, quite down to the end of time, will be 
 able to point out to visitors the dent in the ceiling 
 which, it is alleged, was made by the head of Mr. 
 Wigglesworth when, with a blood-stopping shriek, he 
 vaulted from his chair. 
 
 "You're a daisy, ain't ye?" he yelled some time 
 later as he sat with his feet in the bathtub while Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth prowled around in the attic for some 
 cotton batting ; " the next time you want any econo- 
 mizing done, you better send for Uncle Horace and 
 let him take his flowing whiskers and do, it." And 
 he ran on for nearly an hour in this fashion. 
 
 Next day Imogene took the kettle to the tinman 
 and waited while he soldered on the handle. The bill 
 was ten cents. 
 
 "But you needn't say anything to Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth about it," said Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 Imogene shook her head. 
 
 228
 
 Chapter XXV 
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 Endured Sickness
 
 "'Going to let me perish here in the dark?' he snapped : 
 where 's that fat-headed doctor? ' "Page 236,
 
 CHAPTER XXV. H&w Wiggles<worth En- 
 dured Sickness 
 
 WHEN Mr. Wigglesworth came home to 
 dinner he found his wife on the lounge 
 with a blanket spread over her and her 
 head enveloped in a shawl. There was 
 a large bowl of homemade medicine on a chair by her 
 side and an expression of misery upon her face that 
 cast a gloom over the whole lower part of the house. 
 
 "What ails ye now? " asked Mr. Wigglesworth in 
 the sympathetic tone that a man assumes toward his 
 wife whose sickness he looks upon as an infringement 
 of his own prerogatives. 
 
 "I I think I've got the grip," Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth answered faintly. "It's been coming on all 
 the morning, and I just had to lie down. I've got the 
 awfullest pain in my back and my head aches fit to 
 split. 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Mr. Wigglesworth ; "that 's just like 
 a woman. Least little thing she thinks she's dying ! " 
 
 "I guess you wouldn't enjoy it," sighed his wife, 
 " if you ached all over as I do." 
 
 "Wouldn't like it? Well, probably I wouldn't," 
 Mr. Wigglesworth retorted loftily, " but I don't think 
 I'd run all over town bawling about it. What's the 
 use of being a grown-up woman if you can't stand a 
 little pain? 'Taint for long anyway, and the only 
 thing to do is to brace up and bear it like a man ? " 
 
 231
 
 Haw Wiggtesivorth 
 
 With the enunciation of which beautiful philosophy 
 Mr. Wiggles worth sat down to dinner while his wife 
 clung to the lounge and sipped the villainous home- 
 made concoction out of the bowl. 
 
 " I wish you 'd step into the doctor's," she said 
 feebly, as her husband, after telling her to " take care 
 of herself," was starting for the office ; " I ought to 
 have him at once, before this thing gets a start." 
 
 " That's it 1 " grumbled Mr. Wigglesworth ; " first 
 little kink in the neck, run for the doctor ! When I 
 was a boy mother used to doctor the whole family of 
 us a year on a few cents' worth of herbs. What's the 
 use to call in an old muttonhead of a doctor and pay 
 him two dollars for pulling your tongue out on your 
 chin and peering into it and looking wise ? What you 
 want to do is to lay there and take a good sweat and 
 you'll be all right, I'll bet a cookie." 
 
 Whether Mr. Wiggles worth's prescription was the 
 thing required, or his wife was less ill than she had 
 believed herself to be, it was a fact that when he 
 came home to supper Mrs. Wigglesworth was moving 
 about the house, rather tottery in the knees, but still 
 on deck and ready for action. 
 
 "What'd I tell you?" her husband triumphantly 
 cried. "All that these little attacks need is some 
 will power and woof! they're gone. That's what 
 mother always used to say, and she knew more about 
 doctoring than the man that got it up." 
 
 Out of deference to his wife's illness Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth magnanimously occupied the spare bedroom, so 
 
 232
 
 Endured Sickness 
 
 that she might "have a good night's rest," he said. 
 So also could he, although he didn't mention this 
 fact. 
 
 Night trailed her sable wings over the city, and 
 even reached for a considerable distance out into the 
 suburbs. The stars, marshalled in glittering array, 
 shone frostily in the heavens and winked at the wick- 
 edness which for so many centuries, even as tonight, 
 they had looked down upon. Wrapped in peaceful 
 slumber the honest folk of the town waited the com- 
 ing of another day with its cark and care, and the re- 
 currence of unsettled accounts. Peace was within the 
 borders, and even rested upon the walls of Wiggles- 
 worth as the midnight bell sent its slow clangor quiv- 
 ering into the air. Mrs. Wiggles worth at that instant 
 was dreaming dreaming that Imogene had fallen 
 out of the window and landed two miles below upon a 
 marble floor. Never she said to the neighbors after- 
 wards, had she heard such dreadful groans emanate 
 from any hired girl and then she became slowly 
 conscious that the groans were in the next room, and 
 that Mr. Wigglesworth was the author and projector 
 thereof. In another moment she was out by his bed- 
 side. 
 
 " Dearest Ellery ! " she said, " what is the matter ? " 
 
 " O-o-o-h-h-h ! " moaned Mr. Wigglesworth in a sep- 
 ulchral tone, of tremulo quality; "I'm dying I'm 
 dying!" and he shivered alarmingly. 
 
 "Tell me what it is," cried his wife, dropping by 
 the bedside. " Oh, my darling Ellery, do not go on 
 
 333
 
 Wiggles ( worth 
 
 like that your groans are frightful. Tell your own 
 wifey what it is!" 
 
 "Emma" Mr. Wigglesworth faintly began. 
 
 "Yes yes, darling," his wife answered, "I'm 
 here close by your side what is it I can do?" 
 
 " Emma," Mr. Wigglesworth repeated, solemnly, 
 "I am in a dreadful condition suffering terrible." 
 
 "Oh, I know it, I know it," wailed his wife. "Tell 
 me what it is, so I can do something for you." 
 
 "I don't believe there is anything can be done," 
 Mr. Wigglesworth said, in a hollow voice ; " I Ve felt 
 this coming on for a long time." 
 
 "And never told me ? " sobbed his wife. 
 
 " Hush ! " Mr. Wigglesworth said, fetching another 
 groan that rattled the water pitcher ; " I Ve got shoot- 
 ing pains through me, and my legs are all broke out 
 in cold perspiration. The sheets are all wet with it. 
 Feel of my hand." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth caught it up. It seemed much 
 like any hand, so far as she could distinguish in the 
 dark. 
 
 " Don't it feel hot ? " her husband groaned. 
 
 " It it does seem to be that way," Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth assented. 
 
 " Seem to be ! " sniffed Mr. Wigglesworth, with a 
 touch of his old manner ; " it's fairly sizzling I " 
 
 " I see it is now," his wife hastened to add. 
 
 "But oh, this back this backl" moaned Mr. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth sprang to her feet. 
 
 234
 
 Endured Sickness 
 
 " Something must be done at once ! " she exclaimed, 
 and tottering to the bureau, she broke the lamp 
 chimney. 
 
 " That's the way ! " cried Mr. Wigglesworth, in- 
 terrupting one of the groans ; " get the chimney 
 where I can put my bare feet on it when I get up to 
 die in a chair ! " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth hastily brought the lamp from 
 her own room, and its cheerful rays served to dispel 
 much of the gloom from the sick apartment. Her 
 husband's face was knotted with agony. His feverish 
 tossing had disarranged the long hair that by day he 
 wore carefully combed from his left ear up over the 
 top of his head, and his bald top gleamed forth 
 bravely. With the coming of the light his spirits 
 rose perceptibly. 
 
 " Going to do anything tonight ? " he said, with a 
 show of asperity. " Going to let me lie here and 
 perish, I s'pose, seeing's my life insurance has n't run 
 out." 
 
 " But what shall I do ? " Mrs. Wigglesworth said, 
 with a little helpless wringing of her hands. 
 
 " Do ! " exclaimed her husband, letting his sarcastic 
 side flicker above the solemnity of the occasion; 
 " why not send my symptoms to the British Medical 
 Journal and get an answer to correspondents ? How 
 would it do to forward a lock of my hair to Mme. 
 Ruppert, and have a diagnosis of the case, with a 
 horoscope for the future and directions how to break 
 up a setting hen ? Go look in the rear end of your 
 
 235
 
 How Wiggles ( worth 
 
 scrap-book, can't ye, and find out something that 
 ain't so ? What 's the use " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth was running on in this fashion 
 to usual length, when a recollection of his pains 
 smote him, and he sank back with a groan, before 
 whose awfulness his preceding groans were quite lost 
 sight of. Mrs. Wigglesworth sobbed aloud. 
 
 " Sha'n't I make a mustard plaster and put it on 
 your back?" she cried. 
 
 " Anything, anything ! " moaned Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 and his wife tottered down into the kitchen, arousing 
 Imogene on the way, and with what speed they were 
 capable of they built a fire and had water boiling, while 
 ever the curdling moans of the suffering Wigglesworth 
 found their way along the back hall and corkscrewed 
 down the kitchen stairs, freezing their feminine blood 
 and stimulating them to redoubled action. 
 
 When Mrs. Wigglesworth came back into the room 
 with the plaster held out straight before her and giv- 
 ing forth a pungent odor, Mr. Wigglesworth was 
 thrashing to and fro and growling loudly. 
 
 "Going to let me perish here in the dark?" he 
 snapped; " where 's that fat-headed (doctor?" 
 
 "I I didn't send for the doctor," his wife stam- 
 mered ; " did you want one ? " 
 
 " Oh, of course not I " spluttered Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 looking up at the ceiling ; " no need of a doctor for 
 me ! What 's the good of having a doctor for old 
 Wigglesworth ? Let him die that 's the best way 
 let him R. I. P., and we'll have the insurance; that's 
 
 236
 
 Endured Sickness 
 
 what we '11 have. Think you 're going to have a warm 
 time, don't ye, waltzing round on a widder's dower ? 
 S'pose ye think what ye got there ? " 
 
 " It 's the mustard plaster," Mrs. Wigglesworth ex- 
 plained. She'd been holding it straight in front of 
 her for five minutes. 
 
 " What ye going to do with it ? " her husband asked 
 suspiciously, drawing down under the bedclothes. 
 
 " If you you will let me put it on your back," 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth pleaded, "it will draw out the 
 pain." 
 
 "Wow!" 
 
 This was a yell, so shrill, so loud, that Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, in alarm, dropped the mustard plaster to 
 the floor. Mr. Wigglesworth, in drawing under the 
 coverlid, as his wife approached the bed, had lashed 
 out with both feet, and the yell was his. 
 
 " There's something in the bed ! " he howled ; 
 "there's a blamed old dead cat in the bed, and I've. 
 mashed my feet on her ! The blood's running all 
 over everything ! " 
 
 With another shriek Mr. Wigglesworth was out on 
 the floor, one foot in the middle of the mustard plas- 
 ter. Giving vent to a special yell on this account, he 
 vaulted into the hall, wearing the plaster with him. 
 Imogene, who had stolen near the door for the pur- 
 pose of hearing Mr. Wiggles worth's remarks with 
 more clearness, saw him coming, and fetching a whoop 
 she scuttled for the back stairs, down which she fell 
 in two distinct bumps, dove under the refrigerator 
 and stayed there. 
 
 237
 
 Endured Sickness 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth's first inclination was to faint, 
 but in the bustle and confusion of going to press she 
 neglected to do so. Instead she turned her attention 
 to the bed and there she found the rubber water bottle. 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth remembered that the day before 
 she had put it in the bed, expecting a guest who did 
 not come, and where it had been forgotten: During 
 the night, her husband, in his sleep, had somehow 
 unloosed the stopper, and the water had leaked out of 
 it. 
 
 " Oh, Ellery ! " she joyfully cried, as she saw what 
 the trouble was. 
 
 " Don't Ellery me 1 " snarled Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 coming out of the bathroom and vengefully slapping 
 the remains of the mustard plaster against the wall ; 
 " you think it mighty smart, every time I have a little 
 ache or pain, to come snuffing round and trying to 
 make out I'm sick, so you can work off some of your 
 blamed old fool receipts on me, but I want you to 
 understand that I don't propose to act as no lay figure 
 for you to start your old emergency hospitals with, and 
 the sooner you find it out the quicker it will be for 
 you 1 " 
 
 And Mrs. Wigglesworth explained to the neigh- 
 bors who came in to lift the refrigerator off Imogene, 
 that really she never had known a mustard plaster to 
 work more efficaciously. 
 
 238
 
 Chapter XXVI 
 
 HCHV Wiggles<worth 
 Kept Thanksgiving
 
 " ' And then he grabbed it in his teeth Roscoe, did you 
 understand ?'" Page 245,
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. How Wigglesworth Kept 
 Thanksgiving *Day 
 
 I 
 
 they are," cried Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, who for the past hour had been 
 peering anxiously through the window. 
 The front door bothered somewhat 
 in opening, so by the time she had got down the walk, 
 Aunt and Uncle Chesterfield were unloaded from the 
 North Jayville stage and striving, with the somewhat 
 emphatic help of the driver, to get their large bundles 
 through the gateway. 
 
 " So glad to see you ! " Mrs. Wigglesworth said, as 
 they bustled up the steps. " Oh, whose dog is that ? " 
 
 "Drat him!" piped Uncle Chesterfield, dropping 
 two or three bundles as the dog collided with his legs 
 Uncle Chesterfield's legs, " it 's that ornery cur of 
 Reuben's. I told 'em to tie him up, but I declare ef 
 he ain't f ollered us plumb inter town ! " 
 
 It was a tall dog of a weak drab shade and legs 
 that sprawled and shambled more than seemed neces- 
 sary. He plunged into the vestibule and, backing into 
 a corner, hung several inches of crimson tongue out 
 on his chin and scuffed an aimless tail back and forth 
 with much rapidity. Just then Mr. Wigglesworth 
 opened the door, and the dog shot into the house, 
 flinging that startled gentleman violently into the par- 
 lor portieres. 
 
 " Get out 1 " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, clawing the 
 
 241
 
 How Wiggles<worth 
 
 portieres violently from about his neck. "Take that 
 dog out of the house whose is it what ye doing ? " 
 
 " It 's Uncle Chesterfield's dog," explained Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, coming to her husband's aid, while the 
 guests stood in the door, shedding bundles. 
 
 " I don't care if it is 1 " retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 finding his way out of the clinging curtains; "you 
 need 'nt set him on to me 1 " 
 
 This was not a very auspicious reception for the 
 relatives who had taken the long and bumpy stage 
 drive for the purpose of spending Thanksgiving Day 
 in the city, but Mr. Wigglesworth finally gulped down 
 his wrath and helped his wife relieve the guests of 
 their wraps and the things they had brought along 
 tied up in back numbers of the local paper. 
 
 The tall dog was taken in hand by Imogene and, 
 after a struggle, shut up in the shed. He was a 
 quite strong dog named Roscoe. He was named, so 
 Aunt Emmeline said, for a nephew who formerly 
 visited the Black Hills during a mining excitement, 
 and subsequently fell down a shaft, dashing in the top 
 of his head as he did so. 
 
 " Now, you make yourselves right at home," bustled 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth with great cordiality, "because I 
 shall be busy helping Imogene in the kitchen. Ellery, 
 you see that Aunt and Uncle don't get lonesome, and 
 I '11 have dinner just as soon as it is ready." 
 
 So she vanished from the room, while Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth put his hands in his pockets and assumed the 
 gloomy expression that the city man acquires when 
 his wife's rural relatives are left to his protection. 
 
 242
 
 Kept Thanksgiving Day 
 
 " How 's polertics down this way ? " shrilled Uncle 
 Chesterfield. 
 
 He was a little, dried man with a wrinkled face and 
 not any teeth to speak of. He wore a long black coat 
 with only one button, and that caught into the wrong 
 buttonhole, giving the collar a rakish appearance, and 
 he sat straight up in the only uncomfortable chair in 
 the room and could be persuaded to use no other. 
 Moreover, he steadily refused to take off his rubbers. 
 
 " They ain't no two ways about this silver question," 
 he pursued, shaking his head, while Mr. Wigglesworth 
 shifted uneasily on the sofa ; " ef Conguss don't take 
 things in hand and give us free silver, you kin reckon 
 on one thing, shore." 
 
 Uncle Chesterfield was imbued with a perfectly 
 ferocious array of statistics, and these with infinite 
 oraculousness he now delivered himself of, while Aunt 
 Emmeline maintained a steady knitting and Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth glowered savagely at an engraving depicting 
 Daniel Webster in the enviable condition of a dying 
 bed. 
 
 "What ye doing, anyway?" he exclaimed, bursting 
 into the kitchen some time later ; " ain't ye going to 
 have this dinner today, and be done with it ? " 
 
 " Oh, don't bother me, I beg of you, Ellery," im- 
 plored Mrs. Wigglesworth, red with heat and hurry. 
 
 "Bother you!" sniffed Mr. Wigglesworth scorn- 
 fully, " what 's bothering you ? Think I 'm going to 
 stay in there all the week watching that old fossil 
 work his chin whiskers up and down the scenery? 
 
 243
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 Think I 'm a candidate, don't ye, and can stand any- 
 thing ? " 
 
 When they got down to the table, which feat was 
 eventually accomplished, Mr. Wigglesworth was far 
 from being in a hilarious condition. 
 
 "What ails this knife?" he growled, making a pass 
 at the turkey with it. 
 
 " Don't slop it on the tablecloth," observed his wife. 
 
 The man has yet to be born who can have this 
 thing said to him by a woman and preserve a calm 
 exterior, and yet women go on saying it as often as 
 men stand up to carve. Mr. Wigglesworth paused 
 long enough to freeze his wife with a look, and then 
 lunged once more at the dark-brown bird before him. 
 
 " Who picked out this rubber one ? " he puffed, 
 jabbing viciously with the fork ; " must have bought 
 it yourself with the aid of a book. Hints on How to 
 get Up a Game Dinner, by Mrs. Wigglesworth." 
 
 With such vocal accompaniment, Mr. Wigglesworth 
 succeeded in detaching a variety of fragments from 
 the turkey, while the guests protected themselves as 
 well as possible with their napkins. The meal pro- 
 gressed in silence, for it had been a long ride and 
 Uncle Chesterfield was nearly empty. 
 
 Then Imogene brought in the pudding. It was a 
 pudding into which the very heart of Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth had been knit, and the face of that worthy lady 
 glowed with anxious pride. 
 
 " Now the sauce, Imogene," she commanded. 
 
 It was a sweet and savory sauce of starchy color, 
 244
 
 Kept Thanksgiving Day 
 
 and it had stood on the stove all through the pro- 
 tracted dinner. Imogene sailed into the room with 
 the bowl carefully balanced in her hand. It was 
 claimed afterward that she perfectly well knew that 
 Roscoe had slipped through the kitchen door and was 
 hidden behind the stove, but if this is true she had 
 momentarily forgotten it, until on the instant when 
 that nervous animal sighted Uncle Chesterfield at the 
 table, with a shiny face beaming above his napkin. 
 
 Giving utterance to a glad cry of recognition, Roscoe 
 vaulted into the apartment at the very instant of 
 Imogene's arrival with the sauce. In a flash Imogene 
 was in the air and the fiery sauce had emptied itself 
 over Uncle Chesterfield. 
 
 People on their way to the football game heard the 
 yell that burst from the throat of Uncle Chesterfield, 
 and quickened their pace, thinking the game must be 
 in progress, and fearful from the noise that they must 
 be losing the very best part of it. 
 
 " But, oh, dear," complained Mrs. Wigglesworth in 
 rehearsing the scene next day to the minister's wife, 
 "you never saw anything so dreadful as dear old 
 Uncle was, with the sauce running down his brown 
 hair, which isn 't his own, you know, but a wig that 
 he 's worn since he was a young man, and of course, 
 outgrown, and it ran all down his collar I mean the 
 sauce and then Roscoe jumped on his neck I 
 mean Uncle Chesterfield's neck and it came off - 
 I mean the wig did and then he grabbed it in his 
 teeth Roscoe did, you understand, for of course 
 
 245
 
 Kept Thanksgiving Day 
 
 Uncle Chesterfield hasn't any, being so old, and he 
 ran all over the house, with Ellery kicking him 
 kicking Roscoe I mean and Uncle Chesterfield just 
 standing there in the floor, yelling and looking bald, 
 and me and Aunt Emmeline wiping the sauce off him 
 with our napkins!" 
 
 And Mrs. Wigglesworth shuddered at the recol- 
 lection. 
 
 246
 
 Chapter XXVII 
 
 Hcnv Wigglesworth 
 Shoveled Off
 
 Petrified, the minister stood on the walk." Page 253.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. Haw Wigglesworth 
 Shovelled Off 
 
 f ~"^HE heavy fall of snow at night was fol- 
 lowed by a thaw next morning, so that 
 when Mr. Wigglesworth came home at 
 noon he found his wife in a flutter. 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! " wailed that lady on the instant of 
 her husband's appearance. 
 
 Husbands love to be greeted thus on coming home 
 to dinner. It appears to give their appetite an added 
 zest. 
 
 "What's the matter now?" said Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, coldly, as he plucked off his coat. 
 
 "Matter enough," replied his wife, severely, "with 
 that kitchen roof leaking again and ruining the plas- 
 tering. You promised to send up a man to have it 
 fixed." 
 
 " Oh, of course," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, as he 
 washed his hands with angry emphasis, " lay it onto 
 me. Think I've nothing better to do than to go 
 prancing round after carpenters with warts on their 
 hands?" 
 
 "There's oceans of snow up there still," com- 
 plained Mrs. Wigglesworth, " and it will be awful to 
 have it all run down through the plastering." 
 
 " Well, why don't you clean it off, then," said Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, testily. 
 
 "Ellery Wigglesworth," said his wife, sternly, "do 
 
 249
 
 Ho e w Wigglesworth 
 
 you think I 'm going to take a shovel at my time of 
 life and clean off a kitchen roof?" 
 
 "Pooh!" sniffed Mr. Wigglesworth, looking redly 
 out of the towel, " What's that to do ? Ain't it worth 
 while to save a little money when there 's a chance ? " 
 
 Shortly afterwards the woman next door observed 
 the form of Mr. Wigglesworth laboredly lowering 
 itself from a chamber window down to the sloping and 
 snow encumbered roof of the kitchen addition. The 
 woman next door was without a hired girl, and the 
 dinner dishes were cooling in the washpan, but clearly 
 her duty lay at the window, and there she remained, 
 her eyes fastened upon the roof of the Wigglesworth 
 kitchen. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, after a number of painful mo- 
 tions with his legs got his feet fixed on the roof, with 
 his hands still clinging to the ledge of the chamber 
 window. 
 
 " Why don't you hand out that shovel ? " he cried 
 in a hoarse voice ; " think I want to stand out here 
 all day, looking like a gash-flummuxed old flying 
 machine ? " 
 
 Then the head of Mrs. Wigglesworth appeared at 
 the window. 
 
 " Shall I reach it down to you ? " she asked in a 
 soothing tone. 
 
 " Reach it down to me ? " howled Mr. Wigglesworth 
 as one of his feet slipped ominously and he clutched 
 anew at the ledge, " wha'd ye s'pose you're going to 
 do, send it by express, C. O. D.? Reckon you're 
 
 250
 
 Shovelled Off 
 
 going to die and leave it to me in your will, don't ye ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth hastily thrust the shovel through 
 the window, with such speed indeed, not being certain 
 of the distance, as to catch her husband smartly on 
 the top of his head just as he was about opening his 
 mouth for a fresh remark, whereat his mouth went 
 shut again instantly. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth's tongue lay between his teeth 
 at that very moment. 
 
 " Suffering Columbus ! " he yelled, when he could 
 get his tongue loose from the teeth again, " what ye 
 do that for ? " 
 
 " I did n't mean to hit you," pleaded his wife. 
 
 " Yes, ye did too ! " returned Mr. Wigglesworth 
 savagely, and he thought, with bitterness in his heart, 
 how inscrutable were the ways of Providence that 
 should send the tears from his eye pouring down the 
 lachrymal glands into his nose at the very moment 
 when he had n't a hand to spare for his handkerchief. 
 
 Clinging to the window ledge with one arm, Mr. 
 Wigglesworth made shift to work the shovel into his 
 other hand, and to poke it feebly against the heavy 
 snow. 
 
 "This is the dam " 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth ! " cried his horror-stricken 
 wife. 
 
 " pest snow I ever saw," snarled Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 unheeding his wife's interruption. But with super- 
 human energy he succeeded in dislodging a quantity, 
 which disappeared over the edge of the roof. 
 
 251
 
 How Wiggles e worth 
 
 " Oh ! " screamed a female voice as the snow went 
 out of sight. 
 
 It was a somewhat smothered voice. It belonged 
 to a very tall, thin lady, who had called at the kitchen 
 door with a large subscription book, containing one 
 thousand recipes and hints for making women beauti- 
 ful, every one of which the tall lady had apparently 
 disregarded from her youth up which was a long 
 distance. She had arrived at the back stoop sim- 
 ultaneously with the advent of Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 wad of snow. 
 
 " You are a wretch ! " shrieked the tall woman, 
 waltzing out into the yard and shaking the subscrip- 
 tion book at Mr. Wiggles worth. Her bonnet was 
 smashed down over one eye, imparting to the tall 
 woman a rakish appearance totally at variance with 
 the suggestions of her book, which could be had in 
 cloth, or in half morocco at double the cost. 
 
 " Get out ! You old fool ! " roared Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, his arm nearly strained out of its socket. 
 
 "I ain't an old fool," shrieked the tall woman, 
 clawing at the snow down her neck ; " I 'm just as 
 respectable a lady as you are, and I '11 have the police 
 here in two minutes 1 " 
 
 So she rushed out of the yard and up the street, 
 and she has n 't been back yet, whence it is probable 
 she was unable to find the police. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth toiled on. The increasing weight 
 of the shovel, the difficulty of securing with one hand 
 the proper leverage, the strain upon his other arm, the 
 
 252
 
 Shovelled Off 
 
 slipping tendencies of his feet, the constant sniffings 
 of his nose, the eyes standing out with the veins upon 
 his forehead these are things that the poet laureate 
 might make clear, but before which the ordinary pen 
 must falter. 
 
 Not to say anything about the maddening sugges- 
 tions from Mrs. Wigglesworth, who, with an apron on 
 her head, leaned that member out of the window and 
 said things that he '11 never forget. 
 
 At that juncture the minister came up the slippery 
 walk, stepping carefully and bearing in his hands a 
 bowl of delicious tomato soup. 
 
 " Hurry over with it," his wife had said, " for Mr. 
 Wigglesworth loves my tomato soup dearly." 
 
 It was at the very moment when Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's extraordinary efforts with the shovel appeared 
 likely to meet with some reward. Already the mass 
 of snow was loosening, and then Mrs. Wigglesworth's 
 quick eye discerned the minister turning the corner of 
 the house, the steaming bowl balanced gingerly in 
 front of him. She shrieked, threw up her head, 
 knocking out the support to the window which, crash- 
 ing down upon the hand of Mr. Wigglesworth, tore 
 from that startled gentleman a shriek of more than 
 mortal agony, and the next moment, prone in the mass 
 of snow, he was alpining down the kitchen roof, his 
 legs spread very wide apart and his hands clutching 
 the wooden shovel. 
 
 Petrified, the minister stood on the walk, his face 
 upraised in a look of horrified inquiry and his hands 
 
 253
 
 Shovelled Off 
 
 holding aloft the bowl of tomato soup, as if it might 
 be a propitiatory oblation offered for the gods. 
 
 " It was awful," shuddered the woman next door, 
 in explaining it a few hours later to the local reporter, 
 " to see that good man standing there, a man of up- 
 right character, and then have Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 brandishing that snow shovel, descend with an ava- 
 lanche of snow and render him quite otherwise." 
 
 " I think you said the soup was hot ? " the reporter 
 suggested, as he made an entry in his notebook. 
 
 The woman next door opened the window a little 
 way. 
 
 " Listen ! " she said, sententiously. 
 
 And even at that distance the muffled sounds of 
 Mr. Wigglesworth were distinctly audible. 
 
 354
 
 Chapter XXVIII 
 
 Hem) Wtgglesivorth 
 Oiled the Hinges
 
 " But he was bothered at the office all through the after- 
 noon." Page 257,
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. - Ho<w Wigglesworth 
 Oiled the Hinges 
 
 ' ~l^k "T O W remember," charged Mrs. Wiggles- 
 
 ^^k worth, as her husband was starting for 
 
 ^^ the office, " that the minister and his 
 
 -^- wife take tea with us, and don't forget 
 
 to come home early, will you ? " 
 
 " Come home early ? " returned Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 " what ye take me for ? Don't ye s 'pose I know 
 when to come home? Think I'm a hired girl at a 
 dance, don't ye ? " 
 
 But he was bothered at the office all through the 
 afternoon, and got pinned in his chair at the last 
 moment by a tall, dark man in a foreign-looking 
 moustache, who stole past the boy, and just when 
 Mr. Wigglesworth thought it must be a new customer, 
 pulled a box of cigars from under his coat and pro- 
 ceeded to explain in a hoarse, mysterious whisper, 
 that, being smuggled, they were extraordinarily cheap 
 at that price, provided you held them firmly about the 
 waist while smoking, to prevent their insides falling 
 out. 
 
 Half way home he thought of the guests, and he 
 broke into the front hall, his face hot and red with 
 haste. 
 
 " ' Sh 1 " exclaimed Mrs. Wigglesworth, rushing out 
 of the dining-room. "They're in the parlor. Oh, 
 Ellery, what made you so late, and it just seems as if 
 
 257
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 the oven never would bake those biscuits, and do, for 
 mercy's sake, hurry up and wash, and don't forget 
 clean cuffs, and why didn't you hurry? " 
 
 " Hurry ! " choked Mr. Wigglesworth, pulling his 
 coat off as he rushed upstairs ; " think I'm a plumber ? 
 Reckon a man's got nothing to do but run his legs into 
 an apoplexy to eat suppers with ministers ? " 
 
 Fifteen minutes later he entered the parlor and 
 greeted the guests. His clothing was a good deal 
 agitated, and in his haste he'd forgotten to put on a 
 necktie. 
 
 "It rejoices my heart, Brother Wigglesworth," 
 beamed the minister, "to engage in these inter- 
 changes of social pleasures. How delightful it is," 
 he added, putting in a gesture, " to greet one another 
 in our homes, and there, in the relaxation that pro- 
 ceeds from from er relaxation, to soften the 
 the asperities of of er er " 
 
 " Existence," suggested his wife. 
 
 " Precisely," said the minister, " of our existence. 
 Exactly." 
 
 " Oh, Ellery," called Mrs. Wigglesworth, putting a 
 troubled face in at the door, "will you please step 
 here a moment ? " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth followed her to the dining-room. 
 
 " What ails ye now ? " he asked. " Why don't ye 
 have supper if you're going to ? S'pose I want to 
 stay in there all night with that automatic phono- 
 graph ? " 
 
 " Everything's ready," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 
 258
 
 Oiled the Hinges 
 
 waving her hand towards the table, " and I want you 
 to oil this door, so when Imogene comes in with the 
 tea it won't squeak so awfully. It's been driving me 
 wild for a month." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth knew this ; also that his wife 
 had talked about it ceaselessly at every meal. 
 
 " Where's your oil can ? " he said testily. " You 
 women folks always call on a man to do these things 
 at just the worst times. You save 'em up." 
 
 " I would n't lift it off the hinges," Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth advised, as her husband with his accustomed 
 energy grabbed hold of the door. 
 
 " Course you would n't ! " he grunted, " you 'd have 
 a new way of your own. Side talks 'with girls on how 
 to oil doors, by Mrs. Wigglesworth. Written exclu- 
 sively for the Ladies' Home Ledger." 
 
 Lifting the door from its hinges and leaning it 
 against the wall, Mr. Wigglesworth anointed the 
 hinges copiously. 
 
 "That's the way to do a job like that," he said, im- 
 portantly. " Don't take a minute, and you get at the 
 whole thing." 
 
 Then he picked up the door. It was one of the 
 heaviest doors on Douglass Avenue, and the veins oh 
 Mr. Wiggles worth's forehead stood out a little as he 
 raised it up and slid it into place. 
 
 "There you arel" he cried triumphantly, wiping 
 his brow. 
 
 " But the bottom hinge is n't on," suggested Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 259
 
 How Wiggles t worth 
 
 "What's the reason it ain't" retorted her husband. 
 
 Grasping the door it was a wide door also he 
 raised it again. This time the bottom hinge slipped 
 on, but the upper one failed to connect. 
 
 " Why don't ye take hold here and help me out a 
 little?" snapped Mr. Wigglesworth. "Think I can 
 hold a ninety-pound door out at arm's length all 
 winter ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth promptly lent assistance, pull- 
 ing the door quite loose and pushing it over on her 
 husband. 
 
 " What ye doing ? " he cried, tottering forward and 
 back under its awkward weight. " Why don't ye do 's 
 I tell ye ? When I hold her up you take and guide 
 the hinges and they '11 slip on like a whistle." 
 
 Once more he brought his benumbed arms into ser- 
 vice and hoisted the door aloft. Its weight had in- 
 creased surprisingly. Mrs. Wigglesworth got the 
 upper hinge in position, but when she tackled the 
 lower one the upper slipped off again. This was re- 
 peated, with variations, for thirty times. 
 
 " Which one of them is the longest ? " Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth asked with a sob. 
 
 " Both of 'em 1 " howled Mr. Wigglesworth, enun- 
 ciating the truth that every man discovers who tries 
 to hang a door. "They're both of 'em six inches 
 longer than the other one," and he strained afresh. 
 
 "I am afraid that something is detaining Brother 
 Wigglesworth," remarked the minister, into whose 
 countenance had stolen a look of anxious hunger. 
 
 260
 
 Oiled the Hinges 
 
 "I can hear a noise in the dining-room," said his 
 wife, who for fifteen minutes had been idly fingering 
 the family album. " Listen 1 " 
 
 Through the still rooms the muffled sounds, grow- 
 ing louder, now took their way, rising and falling and 
 augmenting in volume. The minister's wife grew 
 pale. 
 
 " I think we ought to investigate," she said agitat- 
 edly ; " perhaps somebody has fainted." 
 
 When they opened the dining-room door, the other 
 door, the one Mr. Wigglesworth was performing with, 
 had just slipped off again, with an impetus that sent 
 its bearer careering across the floor. Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's collar was torn out, his vest had ripped open, 
 and the sleeves of his coat, worked up to his elbows, 
 disclosed that he had turned his cuffs instead of don- 
 ning fresh ones. His crimson face, bathed in per- 
 spiration, was painfully distorted, his eyes hung out, 
 while between his parched lips a dry tongue rattled. 
 
 Catching sight of the pale face of the minister he 
 gave a hoarse laugh. 
 
 " Doors hung ! " he shrieked, tottering aimlessly 
 forward and making a lunge at the sideboard : " I'm 
 the great international door-hanger. Doors hung in 
 any position to suit customers. Bring your doors to 
 Wigglesworth, the celebrated hangist. Customers 
 in delicate health can have their doors hung at home. 
 All kinds of doors kept on hand " 
 
 And then the door, held aloft in his stiffened arms, 
 engaged with the chandelier and fell with its bearer 
 
 261
 
 Oiled the Hinges 
 
 upon the daintily spread table. In vain did the ladies 
 utter a warning scream, in vain did the minister, break- 
 ing from his stupor, spring to the rescue. Over in 
 one fell ruin went table, door and Wiggles worth, and 
 the tragedy was complete. 
 
 Mrs. Wiggles worth said afterward that the most 
 beautiful sight to her was the minister. Thrown to 
 the floor and pinned against the wall, with the table 
 across his knees, a large circular pie, covered with 
 whipped cream to a depth of two inches had slid into 
 that gentleman's lap and mashed itself all over the 
 front of his stomach. 
 
 " And yet," she cried admiringly, " he never lost 
 patience once, but just sat there with a smile on his 
 face like what you see in pictures." 
 
 263
 
 Chapter XXIX 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Got Ready for 
 Christmas
 
 "' Why, Ellery,' she called, 'What have you got there?'"
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. Ho<w Wigglesworth Got 
 Ready For Christmas 
 
 MRS. WIGGLESWORTH pursed up her 
 lips. 
 " I want," she said, nodding her 
 head thoughtfully, " to observe Christ- 
 mas in the old-fashioned way this year." 
 
 "Umph! " returned Mr Wiggles worth, rattling his 
 paper, "that means you wrfnt to run me in debt for 
 more fool things than usual, I s 'pose." 
 
 "No, Ellery," said Mrs. Wigglesworth in a tone of 
 mild reproof. " I mean to be economical in my ex- 
 penditures. What I want to do is to revive some of 
 the customs of our childhood you know, Ellery, a 
 skating party and a turkey dinner and then a tree in 
 the evening loaded with presents." 
 
 " There ye go ! " cried Mr. Wigglesworth ; " how 
 ye going to load a tree with presents unless you spend 
 a cartload of my money buying 'em ? " 
 
 "Oh, we'll have our friends in, you know," ex- 
 plained Mrs. Wigglesworth, her imagination kindling ; 
 " the Wetherbees, the minister and his wife, and two 
 or three more. It'll be ever so nice. Guess who's 
 going to be Santa Claus ? " concluded Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, archly. 
 
 " How do I know ? " answered Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 " some fool or other, I s'pose." 
 
 "You are!" cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, clapping 
 her hands in glee. 
 
 265
 
 Ho e w Wtggles<worth 
 
 " In a horn I am ! " retorted her husband grimly ; 
 "look cunning, I would, waltzing round in a little bob- 
 tail fur jacket and handing the minister a string of 
 india-rubber popcorn. Wigglesworth in his great act 
 of climbing a step-ladder and catching his chin 
 whiskers on the chandelier." 
 
 " Oh, I guess you will," coaxed Mrs. Wigglesworth ; 
 "please do you're just the one to carry it out." 
 
 " Oh, I '11 carry it out," grinned Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 in high spirits ; " furnish me with ice tongs and I '11 
 carry out anything," and he nodded humorously at the 
 looking-glass. 
 
 "How nice it would sound," said Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth with a touch of sentiment, " to be awakened in 
 the morning by the waits." 
 
 " What kind of weights ? " asked Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 
 " I mean the way they do in England," Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth explained; "coming under your window, 
 you know." 
 
 " Oh, window weights, eh ? " chuckled Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, giving the looking-glass another nod. 
 
 He rarely had found himself in better spirits. 
 
 " I suppose," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, after consid- 
 erable calculation on her fingers, " that I shall need a 
 little extra money for for the candy and and the 
 nuts, you know and we '11 want to make some little 
 presents to the Wetherbees and our other guests." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth's humor went out like a lamp in 
 a draught. 
 
 "There ye gol" he cried angrily, "rushing into 
 expense the first thing." 
 
 266
 
 Got Ready for Christmas 
 
 "We won't spend much," pleaded Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth; "but we don't want to look mean." 
 
 " Who ye calling mean ? " answered Mt. Wiggles- 
 worth in a high key ; " ain't you a daisy wife, I 'd like 
 to know, when I 'm closing a hard year and trying to 
 keep my head above water, to go around telling every- 
 body I 'm mean, just because I won't let ye have sev- 
 eral hundred dollars to squander on your old Wether- 
 bees ? Santa Claus ! " he went on in strong disgust, 
 " don't ye ask me to act any of your monkey games. 
 'F ye want any of your gummy Christmas trees round 
 here you '11 have to have 'em without me I " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth sighed and let fall a few tears as 
 her husband accompanied himself to bed with an un- 
 interrupted flow of this sort of language. Her plans 
 for a model holiday were tumbled in the dust. 
 
 Hence how great was her astonishment next day in 
 looking out of the window to see her husband strug- 
 gling through the gate in the company of a huge 
 spruce tree, whose limbs stood out stiffly and made 
 progress difficult. 
 
 " Why, Ellery 1 " she called, " what have you got 
 there?" 
 
 "What ye s'pose it is?" angrily answered Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, whose face was hot and red with the 
 unwieldiness of the tree ; " looks like a steam-heating 
 apparatus, don't it ? Reminds ye of a game of nine- 
 pins, pro'bly." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth had cut the tree himself in a 
 woodlot a mile distant, and dragging it home over the 
 frozen roads had been no small labor. 
 
 267
 
 How Wiggles e wortfi 
 
 " Why don't ye come down here and lend a hand ? " 
 he yelled, pausing to pluck one of the twigs from his 
 eye. 
 
 "Why, certainly," purred Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 hastily running down the steps. " Where did you get 
 it, Ellery ? " 
 
 "Where d'ye s'pose I got it ? " retorted her husband, 
 snatching the tree loose from the gate. "Think I 
 stole it from an orphan ? Reckon it was returned if 
 not called for in ten days don't ye ? " 
 
 " I thought," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, in a mollify- 
 ing tone, as they dragged the tree up the steps, " that 
 we'd given it up." 
 
 "That's it!" cried Mr. Wigglesworth. "That's 
 the way wait till I 've walked eight miles lugging 
 this gash-flummuxed old tree and then tell me you Ve 
 changed your mind. Why did n't ye say so 'fore I 'd 
 made such an idiot of myself?" 
 
 "We'll have it, dearest, if you wish it," soothed 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 " That 's a pretty way to answer, ain't it ? " said her 
 husband. " You go to work and get me to invite 
 people to a Christmas celebration, and then try to 
 kick out of it. That 's a nice holiday spirit to show 
 toward your own husband, ain't it ? " 
 
 "Have you invited them?" exclaimed Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth. 
 
 "'Course, I have," replied Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 " Did n't we agree to do it last night ? Ain't ye willing 
 once in a year to give up selfishness and all them 
 
 268
 
 Got Ready for Christmas 
 
 things and let other people have a little pleasure? 
 What 's the use of being so unpleasant and stuck up ? " 
 
 " I 'm sure I shall be delighted," whimpered Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, her head whirling with the peculiar 
 rotary character of her husband's arguments. 
 
 By this time they had the tree wedged in the front 
 door. 
 
 " Quit holding back on it ! " called Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 "I'm pushing hard," returned his wife, "but, oh, 
 dear, how pitchy it is. It 's all over pitch, Ellery." 
 
 " 'Course it is," said Mr. Wigglesworth, pausing to 
 see where the limbs were caught. " What d 'ye ex- 
 pect to find on it, mock turtle soup ? " 
 
 The hired girl came out to help them. Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, his wrath mounting in proportion to 
 the tree's resistance, clawed fiercely at the prickly 
 boughs. 
 
 "Why don't ye push ? " he yelled to the hired girl ; 
 "what ye think I pay ye three dollars a week for, 
 anyway? " 
 
 Only those who have struggled with a Christmas 
 tree understand how immovably it can fix itself in a 
 door. Mr. Wigglesworth wrenched and yanked, and 
 said things at which his wife turned pale, and then 
 suddenly losing his hold he dashed for the shed. 
 
 "I'll fix it," he shouted, returning with an axe. 
 
 It was an almost new hired girl, substituted during 
 the temporary absence of Imogene, a girl whose grasp 
 of the language was limited. The wedged tree, the 
 
 269
 
 Got Ready for Christmas 
 
 loud shouting, the red and swollen face of Wiggles- 
 worth, to her untutored mind were fraught with mys- 
 tery, and when he rushed back with set teeth and 
 brandishing the axe, panic ensued. Uttering a wild 
 shriek, the girl vaulted completely over the tree and 
 scuttled for the cellar. 
 
 " What ails that fool, now ? " snuffed Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth. " Must have left another pie in the oven." 
 
 In two minutes he 'd chopped the front hall full of 
 sticky boughs. 
 
 "All over my clean rugs, too," complained Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth. 
 
 They eventually got the tree stood up in the par- 
 lor, and Mrs. Wigglesworth, with the key of the door 
 in her possession, could be seen constantly moving in 
 and out. The air of mystery with which day and 
 night she went clothed, is quite impossible of descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 370
 
 Chapter XXX 
 
 H<yw Wiggles e worth 
 Played Santa 
 Ctaus
 
 " ' What 'd I tell ye?' he snapped calling attention to his 
 trussed up legs, ' ain't I a dandy Santa Claus ?' " Page 275.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. Ho<w Wigglesworth Played 
 Santa Claus 
 
 BEHIND the locked doors, the parlor of the 
 Wigglesworth mansion blazed mightily. 
 There stood the Christmas tree, loaded to 
 its topmost bough with beautiful gifts, 
 and the light of countless candles made the dark- 
 green foliage shine eloquently. When the guests ar- 
 rived, filled with Christmas merriment and turkey, the 
 doors were thrown open, and a loud clamor of tongues 
 ensued. Mr. and Mrs. Wetherbee and Master Augus- 
 tus Wetherbee were there, Mrs. Coakley had come 
 with her two thin daughters and the minister and his 
 wife had brought along all four of their children. 
 
 "Whoop-ee! " cried Willie Wigglesworth. 
 
 " Them's my skates 1 " shrilled little Augustus 
 Wetherbee, clapping his hands. 
 
 The minister beamed upon the company and rubbed 
 his palms together. 
 
 " Really," he said, in an unctuous voice, " a most 
 delightful occasion. How charming to recall, in the 
 unfettered joy of these little ones, the experiences of 
 our own vanished youth. We should ever be re- 
 minded," he added, making a gesture, "that these - 
 er occasions are valuable as er tending to 
 keep soft our er er our er our er- 
 
 " Hearts," suggested his wife. 
 
 273
 
 Hem) Wigglesworth 
 
 "Precisely our hearts," concluded the minister; 
 " the very word I was about to employ." 
 
 "Ma," called Willie, after everybody had grown 
 tired standing around and giving utterance to notes of 
 admiration, " where 's Pa ? " 
 
 " Sure enough ! " exclaimed the minister, " where is 
 Brother Wigglesworth ? I declare I had n 't missed 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth wrinkled up her face with an 
 air of great mystery. 
 
 " Ellery was detained at the office," she said in a 
 high voice; "he will be here presently." 
 
 Then she nodded her head, and smiled with a 
 momentous appearance of secrecy. 
 
 "Ah, yes, precisely," answered the minister, also 
 smiling with great intention to indicate his own 
 shrewdness. "I see ha! ha! very good!" and 
 he whispered to his wife, who nodded with lively in- 
 terest. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, with a nervous air, sidled out 
 of the room and rushed up the front stairs. 
 
 "Oh, Ellery I" she cried in a hoarse whisper, 
 " can 't you hurry up and hurry down ? They 're all 
 waiting, and everybody is getting impatient, and the 
 candles are melting and running over everything ?" 
 
 Gloom sat upon the brow of Wigglesworth. For 
 some minutes he had been struggling to introduce 
 himself into a pair of fur trousers that originally had 
 been constructed for a much smaller man, and his 
 efforts, though finally successful, had left him in a 
 
 274
 
 Played Santa Clans 
 
 blown condition. A wig wrong side foremost sat 
 perched upon his head, and the long and flowing 
 horsehair whiskers trailed over one shoulder in an 
 untutored fashion. When his wife broke in on him 
 Mr. Wigglesworth's smouldering wrath blazed forth. 
 
 "What'd I tell ye? " he snapped, calling attention 
 to his trussed up legs ; " ain't I a dandy Santa Claus ? " 
 
 "Oh, you will look splendid," encouraged Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, " soon as you get your coat and boots 
 on. Do hurry, Ellery, that's a dear." 
 
 " Hurry nothing ! " snorted Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 angrily ; " I told ye I'd make a fool of myself, and 
 blamed if I ain't doing it. What made ye pick out a 
 boy's size ? " he snarled, straining himself into the 
 coat. 
 
 "It was the only Santa Claus costume the man 
 had," Mrs. Wigglesworth answered, "and you look 
 awfully cute in it. I declare, you look just like a pic- 
 ture out of the books." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth groaned. Already he could feel 
 the perspiration starting. 
 
 " Don't say any more things like that," pleaded 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth. " You know we're doing this to 
 give happiness to others. Now, you go down the 
 back stairs and come around under the parlor window, 
 then I'll make believe I hear bells, and we'll all come 
 and discover you, and then you can jump in through 
 the window and we'll have the presents ; " and Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth hastened back to the parlor, where her 
 long absence had been noted with anxiety. 
 
 275
 
 Haw Wiggles < wortb 
 
 After some moments Mrs. Wigglesworth raised a 
 warning hand. 
 
 " Hark ! " she said in a play-acting voice : " Me- 
 thinks I hear the bells 1 " and she rushed to the win-, 
 dow, the guests trooping gaily after her. 
 
 If there had been any bells they must have gone 
 past, for though the company peered and flattened 
 their noses on the window, no form could be descried 
 outside. 
 
 In point of fact, Mr. Wigglesworth, in getting 
 through the back door had slipped down the steps 
 and nearly unhinged his spinal column. In the close 
 embrace of the costume he found it well-nigh im- 
 possible to regain his feet. Dragging himself groan- 
 ing to the window, he stood waiting in the snow. It 
 was a cold night, and as he waited there under the 
 silent Christmas stars Mr. Wigglesworth could feel 
 the thermometer accompanying his enthusiasm down 
 into the lowest depths. Just as it seemed as if he 
 must ultimately freeze to death right where he stood, 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth once more aroused the jaded in- 
 terest of the guests. 
 
 " I know I heard bells that time," she cried. 
 
 "There's somebody!" shrieked little Augustus 
 Wetherbee, who was peering over the lower sash. 
 
 " It's Santa Claus 1 " exclaimed the minister. 
 " Open the window, quick 1 " 
 
 The window was frozen down. It probably was 
 frozen with greater solidity than any other window in 
 in the city. Mr. Wetherbee and the minister heaved 
 and hoisted at it with all their strength. 
 
 276
 
 Played Santa Claus 
 
 " I never saw such a window," puffed the minister : 
 " it seems to be fastened with nails." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth flew to the front door. 
 
 " You'll have to come in this way 1 " she called in a 
 loud whisper. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth dragged his congealed legs up 
 the steps. 
 
 " What kind of a fool trick ye trying to play on 
 me ? " he howled, his voice taking on a horribly weird 
 tone as it struggled through his horsehair whiskers ; 
 "mean to keep me out here till my feet drop off, 
 don't ye ? Think I want to catch pneumonia acting 
 out a gash-flummuxed old Santa Claus for you ? " 
 
 " Oh, hush, Ellery 1 " pleaded his wife, " they '11 hear 
 you I " 
 
 "What ye s'pose I care 'f they do?" snuffed Mr. 
 Wigglesworth ; " think I 'm going to lose my life 
 prancing around in this little bob-tail jacket?" 
 
 " Come right in come quick ! " said his wife agi- 
 tatedly, hurrying through the hall and raising the 
 portieres. 
 
 The entrance of Santa Claus was greeted with ap- 
 plause, though it was easy to see that the success of 
 his appearance had been considerably marred. A 
 sulky Santa Claus is scarcely a thing to call up delight, 
 and it was plain to half an eye that Mr. Wigglesworth 
 was not enjoying himself. 
 
 " I know who it is ! " shouted Willie, as Santa Claus 
 waddled across the floor, churlishly shaking his head ; 
 "it's Pa!" 
 
 277
 
 Hcnv Wiggles e worth 
 
 " You shut your chin ! " muttered Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, and he caught his son a clip on the side of the 
 head that made that astonished young man's teeth 
 rattle. 
 
 The distribution of presents went on under condi- 
 tions of gloomy depression. Mrs. Wigglesworth as- 
 sisted Santa Claus, and strove to rally the spirit of 
 the occasion. 
 
 "Come, Santa," she said in a playful tone, "you 
 must hand us those things from the top boughs." 
 
 It had been all arranged with Mr. Wigglesworth in 
 the morning. Mr. Wetherbee brought the step lad- 
 der in from the hall. 
 
 "You don't get me up that ladder I" growled Mr. 
 Wigglesworth .to his wife. 
 
 " Oh, please do, Ellery," whispered Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, pleadingly. " You promised you would. Don't 
 spoil the whole thing that way, I beg of you 1 " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth slowly mounted the ladder. It 
 was a wobbly contrivance, and Mr. Wigglesworth stood 
 on the top step with his knees bent at a painful angle. 
 The upper part of the room was intensely hot, and Mr. 
 Wigglesworth broke into a perspiration beyond any- 
 thing he had ever known. 
 
 Then little Augustus Wetherbee stumbled over the 
 foot of the stepladder just as Mr. Wigglesworth was 
 reaching for the topmost bough. Being a household 
 ladder it shut up with instant rapidity, and in a flash 
 Mr. Wigglesworth was in the tree. Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth shrieked, the other women screamed, the min- 
 
 378
 
 Played Santa. Claus 
 
 ister sprang to the rescue, and the next moment Mr. 
 Wigglesworth and the tree were thundering to the 
 floor, with the minister under them. 
 
 " Don't you say a word to me 1 " screamed Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth, when they had got him on his feet, looking 
 dreadful with the horse hair whiskers trailing down 
 his back. "I told ye I'd make a fool of myself, and 
 now I hope you're satisfied. What's that ? " he 
 yelled, clawing madly at something that had become 
 affixed to his own side whiskers. 
 
 It was the half melted remains of a red candle. 
 With a howl of rage Mr. Wigglesworth dashed it 
 against the wall and stalked savagely out of the room. 
 And Mrs. Wigglesworth knew better than to inter- 
 rupt .him. 
 
 279
 
 Chapter XXXI 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Swore Off
 
 " 'It's something broke out of somewhere.'" Page 287.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. HVUJ Wigglesworth Swore 
 Off 
 
 GREAT thoughts and mighty purposes born 
 of the New Year surged and beat within 
 the breast of Mr. Wigglesworth as he 
 made his way home from the office. 
 
 "Tell ye what it is, Emma," he broke out as he 
 mechanically laid the piece of tenderloin aside for his 
 own use, " I 've come to the conclusion to turn over 
 a new leaf." 
 
 " Oh, how perfectly lovely ! " cried Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth with an alacrity that any husband would have 
 felt to be keener than the occasion demanded. 
 
 " There 's no need to get gay," Mr. Wigglesworth 
 said coldly. Then he mashed his potato for awhile 
 with emphasis and Mrs. Wigglesworth preserved dis- 
 creet silence. 
 
 " I know how it is with some of these fellows," Mr. 
 Wigglesworth contemptuously resumed ; " swearing off 
 this thing and that thing and then going at it again 
 next week again worse 'n ever. I hope I ain't that 
 kind of a weak-minded fool." 
 
 "I'm sure you 're a very different kind," protested 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth earnestly. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth glared at his wife for the space 
 of a minute, but that lady unconsciously went on 
 freeing the grounds from the nose of the teapot. 
 
 " I mean," pursued Mr. Wigglesworth, restraining 
 
 283
 
 Haw Wigglesworth 
 
 himself, " to overcome some of the faults that I 've 
 seen in myself once or twice lately. I believe," said 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, making a gesture at the chandelier 
 with his fork, " that a man ought to hold his unpleas- 
 ant side in check about the house. A man ain't got 
 no right," he cried, imparting an oratorical roll to his 
 head and voice, "to let out his temper at home. 
 Home ought to be the er best place there er 
 is. And I've noticed, Emma," he added with a 
 touch of tenderness, " that sometimes I 've kinder let 
 my temper slip when you Ve exasperated me. I don't 
 mean to do it any more. I Ve taken a new resolve. 
 I Ve quit. That 's what the new year's done for me." 
 
 " Oh, I 'm ever so glad ! " cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 clapping her hands. " You have given way to your 
 temper so dreadfully, Ellery." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth frowned. 
 
 " You don't have to get up an encore over it," he 
 said sourly. 
 
 " Oh, but it has been hard sometimes," protested 
 his wife. "You were so cross, you know, Ellery, 
 when I had n't done the least thing." 
 
 "Oh, no, you had n't done the least thing," sneered 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, "course not it's only Wiggles- 
 worth that's done the least thing. You 're the peace- 
 maker, you are. How To Make Home Happy Though 
 Married, by Ruth Ashmore Wigglesworth. For sale 
 by all druggists. That's what you are. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth slapped his napkin on the table 
 and kicked back his chair. 
 
 284
 
 Swore Off 
 
 " You know we're going to call on the Wetherbee's 
 this evening," suggested Mrs. Wiggles worth, with an 
 anxious sigh. 
 
 Taking a great grasp on himself Mr. Wigglesworth 
 got stiffly through the door. 
 
 "That's all the encouragement a man ever gets in 
 this house," he said, bitterly. " No," he called, wav- 
 ing his wife back as she started to follow upstairs. 
 "I can find my things myself. I don't want no 
 woman putting in my shirt studs wrong side out." 
 
 Every man knows that when he has taken a great 
 resolution to reform himself he has a right to expect 
 assistance from his wife. Mr. Wigglesworth plucked 
 savagely at his collar in maintenance of that principle, 
 and when the collar exhibited a balky disposition, he 
 pulled the buttonholes entirely out of it. Then he 
 tore off his shirt and kicked it under the bed. 
 
 " Emma," he bawled, " where's my clean shirt ? " 
 
 " I laid it right on the chair," returned Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth from the front hall. 
 
 " Laid it right on the chair," mimicked Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth, standing helplessly in the middle of the 
 room. "Think you're a hen, don't ye? What 
 chair ? ' Taint here, I tell ye. You Ve hid it. Try- 
 ing to exasperate me some more, that's what you 're 
 doing." 
 
 Delivering himself of this retort in a voice pitched 
 for the ground floor, imparted a greenish hue to Mr. 
 Wigglesworth's countenance. 
 
 "I'm sure I put it on the chair," said his wife, run- 
 
 285
 
 Wtggles<worth 
 
 ning upstairs. "There it is now 1 " she cried, lifting 
 her husband's coat that he had lately cast down. " I 
 knew it was on the chair." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you knew," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth 
 snatching the shirt from his wife's hands. "Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, the Human Encyclopedia. Futures 
 peered into at reduced rates." 
 
 " Shall I help you, dear ? " cooed Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 But Mr. Wigglesworth maintaining a dignified 
 silence, as husbands do, she withdrew. 
 
 " Remember the new leaf," she said, playfully, as 
 she went out. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth punched a stud at the solid and 
 implacable face of the shirt, and the shirt slipped 
 from his grasp and fell to the floor. Also the stud. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth hastily set his heel into the shirt 
 bosom, but the stud was smaller and eluded him. It 
 has continued to do so ever since. 
 
 " Why, Ellery Wigglesworth," reproved his wife 
 from the upper hall. " You ought to be ashamed to 
 use such language in your own house." 
 
 " You go down stairs, will ye ? " returned Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth in a condensed voice. 
 
 Fifteen minutes later Imogene, passing the door 
 and glancing in, was startled to see what appeared to 
 be a headless monster, eight feet high, without hands 
 but possessing legs that looked like the legs of Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, revolving about the room and clawing 
 down chandelier globes and pictures of great value. 
 
 286
 
 Swore Off 
 
 With more than' ordinary intelligence Imogene gave 
 one piercing shriek and fell down the front stairs, en- 
 countering Mrs. Wigglesworth on the first landing. 
 
 " Don't go up 1 " yelled the girl, her teeth knocking 
 together. " It's something broke out of somewhere." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth saw what it was in an instant. 
 In his nervous haste Mr. Wigglesworth had buttoned 
 the neck and wrists of his shirt before essaying to get 
 into that garment. Thousands of men have made the 
 same mistake but few have ever combined it with a 
 New Year's resolution. 
 
 " Oh, Ellery 1 " wailed Mrs. Wigglesworth, as his 
 handless arms struck down a favorite mantle vase. 
 
 " Let me out of here ! " roared Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 his voice coming horribly from the interior of the 
 shirt. "Take this thing off, can't ye? What ye 
 mean, sewing me up this way like a gash-flummuxed 
 old mummy ?" 
 
 Then he fell over a hassock and went careering 
 into the bureau. It was a tall and exceedingly heavy 
 mahogany bureau with brass knobs and drawers that 
 sometimes opened by pulling on them a long time. 
 The bureau was a family heirloom and had come 
 down, so Mrs. Wigglesworth used to tell her callers. 
 It never came down any more than it did this time. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth took a long, rooting plunge from 
 the hassock, butted the bureau on its weakest leg, 
 and before Mrs. Wigglesworth could scream twice it 
 was over on him. 
 
 Then all you could see for a few moments was a 
 
 287
 
 How Wiggles ( worth 
 
 pair of fashionably attired legs cutting arabesques in 
 the atmosphere, accompanying a muffled voice that 
 came from under the bureau and froze the blood of 
 the hired girl. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, assisted by that young lady, 
 lifted long and earnestly at the bureau, and when 
 they got it up high enough all the drawers fell out at 
 once and entwined Mr. Wigglesworth in a maze of 
 feminine adornments. Mrs. Wigglesworth pulled the 
 offending shirt from his head and Mr. Wigglesworth 
 got his feet under him. 
 
 "You're a pretty thing, ain't ye?" he shouted with 
 his earliest breath, "getting me to make a fool New 
 Year's resolution and then sewing up my shirt fronts 
 and trying to strangle me to death. Want my life 
 insurance, don't ye ? " 
 
 " Why, Ellery," expostulated his wife, " you your- 
 self said " 
 
 " Shut your face 1 " snapped Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 
 288
 
 Chapter XXXII 
 
 How WigglesvDorth 
 Went Into Society
 
 " ' Mind the lamp,' warned their host,' " Page 297,
 
 CHAPTER XXXU.-How Wigglesworth Went 
 Into Society 
 
 ' ~JT 'VE got a surprise for you," said Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth archly as she poured her husband's tea. 
 "That so?" gloomed Mr. Wigglesworth 
 
 -*- whose day at the office had been a rugged 
 one ; " some more of them bills of yours, I s'pose. 
 Been coming in on me a steady stream since the year 
 opened." 
 
 " We're invited out this evening," said Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, with a little note of triumph. 
 
 "Mumphl" returned her husband, biting into his 
 toast ; " that's a dandy old surprise, ain't it ? What 
 ye think I care about that ? Don't ye s'pose I'm tired 
 enough already, without standing around at a church 
 sociable watching a lot of you old females playing 
 button ? " 
 
 " It is n't that at all," Mrs. Wigglesworth explained ; 
 "it's Mrs. Wetherbee. She wants us to come over 
 and spend the evening playing whist." 
 
 " I won't do it 1 " returned Mr. Wigglesworth de- 
 fiantly ; " don't I tell ye I 'm tired's a dog ? Think I 
 want to give up the evening telling you what's trumps ? 
 Not much, I don't." 
 
 "That's just what Mrs. Wetherbee said," protested 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth ; "she said she supposed you were 
 working extra hard at the office and a little relaxation 
 would do you good."
 
 Ho<w Wigglesworth 
 
 " Oh, yes," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, "that 's her 
 confounded impertinence. Ever since them Wether- 
 bees had a little money left 'em they 're so stuck up 
 you can't touch 'em with a pole. That 's just their 
 way to come around twitting me with having to work 
 for a living. I despise such people ! " and Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth, throwing his napkin in his chair and growl- 
 ing loudly, went up stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth retired to the sitting-room and 
 gave way to a few tears. Then she sought relief in 
 a magazine and was just regaining some serenity of 
 mind, when her husband, in the full possession of a 
 stand-up collar and his Sunday clothes, appeared in 
 the door. 
 
 "Ain't ye going?" he called, noting his wife's ease 
 of manner. 
 
 "Going?" faltered Mrs. Wigglesworth, "I thought 
 we 'd given it up." 
 
 "Given it up nothing!" returned Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth ; " did n't you say we were invited out ? What 
 ails ye, anyway? Ain't ye willing anybody should 
 have a good time ? Think I want to stay cooped up 
 in the house every night after slaving my life away in 
 that old office ? What ye want to act so selfish for ? " 
 
 "Why I'm sure " stammered Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you're sure," interrupted her husband 
 with husband-like sarcasm. "Why don't ye go get 
 your clothes on, if you 're going to, and not set there 
 all the evening arguing ? " 
 
 292
 
 Went Into Society 
 
 Stunned with her husband's reasoning Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth hastened her preparations with such earnest- 
 ness as to burn a long red streak down her forehead 
 with the curling iron. 
 
 " Delighted to see you ! " gushed Mrs. Wetherbee 
 as she greeted them at the front door. " Oh, take 
 care the floor's dreadfully slippery!" 
 
 This warning was evoked by the unexpected con- 
 duct of Mr. Wigglesworth, whose heels had accumu- 
 lated little balls of ice, and who, the instant he struck 
 the polished floor, slid violently across the hall and 
 fell into the hat tree. 
 
 "Oh, Ellery!" said Mrs. Wigglesworth with a 
 little scream, " did it hurt you ? " 
 
 " Shut your head, can't ye ? " replied Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth in a condensed voice, as he struggled to his 
 feet ; " what's the use to make such a fool of your- 
 self?" 
 
 The difficulty of regaining his feet and the ne- 
 cessity of muttering these remarks in a subdued tone 
 imparted a remarkable color to Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 features. 
 
 "Glad to see you!" said Mr. Wetherbee in a 
 hearty tone of welcome, as they shook hands. 
 
 " Yes," chirped Mrs. Wigglesworth, " I told Ellery 
 on the way over that you would be glad to see him. 
 You know, he doesn't go into society much, but I'm 
 sure if he would go more he'd get as used to it as 
 anybody and enjoy it awfully." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth shook his head in feeble depreca- 
 
 293
 
 Wlggles t worth 
 
 tion and embellished his face with a sour smile. Any- 
 body knowing him intimately could have guessed that 
 what he desired most was an opportunity to speak to 
 his wife in private. 
 
 "Let us play against each other at first," said 
 Mrs. Wetherbee, arranging the card table ; "Wiggles- 
 worth versus Wetherbee." 
 
 " Oh, that will be ever so nice 1 " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, clapping her hands ; " then Ellery can 
 tell me what to play." 
 
 Wetherbee dealt and Mr. Wigglesworth led. Mrs. 
 Wetherbee covered his card with a higher one. 
 
 " Now, there I " fluttered Mrs. Wigglesworth, " what 
 shall I do, Ellery?" 
 
 " Play," answered Mr. Wigglesworth, laconically ; 
 "what ye think ye had to do, ring in a fire alarm?" 
 
 " I mean," pursued Mrs. Wigglesworth, knitting 
 her forehead, " shall I put on a small one and let them 
 take it, or shall I play a trump? I've forgotten what 
 the rule says, it's so long since I played." 
 
 So she threw down a queen and Mr. Wetherbee 
 with a chuckle produced the king. 
 
 " There 1" exclaimed Mrs. Wigglesworth, "why 
 did n't I play the ace ? " 
 
 " Impossible to say why Mrs. Wigglesworth did n't 
 play the ace," coldly commented her husband as he 
 laid down another card. If Mr. Wigglesworth was 
 happy he tried not to show it. 
 
 "Now what's trumps? " asked Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 as her turn came around again. 
 
 394
 
 Went Into Society 
 
 " Hearts," said Mrs. Wetherbee. 
 
 " Same's it was last trick," added Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 in a carefully selected tone. 
 
 "Why, of course," acknowledged Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth ; "dear me, how stupid of me to keep forgetting 
 so often. Let me see hearts. Who played that 
 eight spot ? " 
 
 " I did," replied Mr. Wigglesworth, shortly. 
 
 "And Mrs. Wetherbee played the jack," chattered 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth ; " now what I ought to do is to 
 is it third hand high or third hand low, Ellery? 
 But there, it is n't fair to keep asking your partner, is it ? 
 Let me see hearts trumps is it hearts trumps? 
 why, of course, you just said so lummi-tummi- 
 tummi-tee," hummed Mrs. Wigglesworth, running her 
 eyes back and forth over the cards. 
 
 " Going to play this evening ? " asked Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, glaring across the table. 
 
 "Why, of course," Mrs. Wigglesworth answered 
 with a little laugh, " how stupid of me to be so long. 
 But I'm so afraid of making a mistake. Mother used 
 to say when I was a girl that do I have to follow 
 suit ? yes, of course, how silly of me hearts 
 h-e-a-r-t-s mother used to say, 'Emma, you take 
 so much time making up your mind that when a man 
 does ask you, he'll go away without an answer, and 
 you'll lose him.' But I didn't, did I, Ellery?" she 
 concluded, throwing an arch look at her partner. 
 
 " Why don't ye play ? " testily rejoined Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth ; " what ye think it is, a phonograph per- 
 formance ? " 
 
 295
 
 HOVJ Wiggles e worth 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesvvorth hastily laid down a card and 
 was chagrined to discover that it was the wrong one. 
 The game went on to the utter discomfiture of the 
 house of Wigglesworth. Mr. Wetherbee was in high 
 spirits. 
 
 "Tell ye what, Wigglesworth," he said banter- 
 ingly, as they paused for ice-cream, " you want to get 
 up on your card playing, or somebody '11 be touching 
 you for your year's salary." 
 
 " Oh, Ellery never would play cards for money," 
 said Mrs. Wigglesworth, "would you, Ellery?" 
 
 " I suppose he never plays except for amusement ? " 
 suggested Wetherbee, with a laugh, while Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth writhed on the sofa. 
 
 Mrs. Wetherbee now made a little diversion on the 
 piano and her husband volunteered a song, which he 
 sang in a much bent over position owing to his un- 
 familiarity with the music. 
 
 " Do play a waltz," cried Mrs. Wigglesworth ; 
 "they are so lovely." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth nodded her head and tapped 
 her foot in time with the music. 
 
 "I declarel" she exclaimed gayly, "it makes me 
 feel quite young again. Let's waltz, Ellery." 
 
 " Get out ! " muttered Mr. Wigglesworth, thrusting 
 his hand deeper in his pockets. 
 
 "Oh, but you must," playfully insisted his wife, 
 and she dragged the unwilling Wigglesworth to his 
 feet. 
 
 "That's the stuff!" applauded Mr. Wetherbee; 
 " show us what you 're made of, Wigglesworth ! " 
 
 "96
 
 Went Into Society 
 
 Louder rose the strains of the piano and Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth reluctantly began to revolve with his wife. 
 
 " What ye want to keep stepping on my feet for ? " 
 he growled. 
 
 "It it isn't so easy as it was once," puffed Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, who was bobbing around with growing 
 violence. 
 
 "Why don't ye keep even?" Mr. Wigglesworth 
 sniffed, " what ye think ye are, a walking-beam ? " 
 
 "Mind the lamp ! " warned their host. 
 
 It was a tall lamp with a huge yellow shade at the 
 top and four claw-like legs that sprawled over a rug. 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth's vague recollection of her girl- 
 hood dancing was taking her through so eccentric an 
 orbit that Mr. Wetherbee's warning was necessary. 
 It was also a trifle late. With a loud scream Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth felt her heels, out of time, engage with 
 one of the brass claws, and in a second the lamp was 
 pouring its kerosene into the open heart of Mrs. 
 Wetherbee's piano. 
 
 "Don't ye give me a word of your back talk," 
 jawed Mr. Wigglesworth as they took their way home ; 
 " here I 've gone and wasted a whole evening just to 
 satisfy your cravings for society, and I hope you 're 
 satisfied. You need n't go flaunting your Wetherbees 
 in my face any more," he added in a tone of disgust. 
 " That Wetherbee's a stuck-up dude and for two cents 
 I 'd take and knock his head off." 
 
 " He must have cheated at cards," said Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, shaking her head, "else I don't see how 
 they could beat us every time, do you Ellery ? " 
 
 297
 
 Chapter XXXIII 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Caught the Train
 
 " 'Emma,' he shouted, rushing to the head of the stairs, 
 where's them shirt studs ? ' " Page 305.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. Ho<w Wigglesworth 
 Caught the Train 
 
 ' ^^^V H, Ellery," implored Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 S " I wish you'd hurry up. Those things 
 
 ^ m have got to be put in the satchel, and I 
 ^- ^ can't find my curling iron anywhere." 
 " Don't get so nervous," returned Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, calmly, as he folded back the morning paper. 
 " Ain't that a curling iron in your other hand ? " 
 
 " Why, so it is," acknowledged Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 
 in surprise. " I've been hunting it ever so long but 
 
 there ! I'm so excited I just don't know what to do." 
 
 " What ails ye, anyway? " said her husband, testily. 
 
 " Anybody'd think you'd never been anywhere before." 
 
 " I know," owned Mrs. Wigglesworth, " but the 
 
 train starts in another hour, and Aunt Emmeline will 
 
 be awfully disappointed if we don't get there." 
 
 " Poh ! " commented Mr. Wigglesworth, addressing 
 the chandelier, "ain't that just like a woman ? Can't 
 make a little twenty-five mile trip without flying 
 around like a hen with her head off. Why don't ye 
 take things easy same's I do ? " 
 
 " I wish I could," replied his wife earnestly. Then 
 
 she rushed into the kitchen to see about the lunch. 
 
 " Humph ! " growled Mr. Wigglesworth after her. 
 
 "It's easy enough if you only try. Just don't fret 
 
 that's all there is to it." 
 
 301
 
 H&w Wiggles<worth 
 
 Whistling with a man's cool indifference Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth repaired to the shed to black his boots. 
 
 "Now, where's that brush?" he muttered, as he 
 clawed around in the box devoted to such things; 
 " that boy's pro'bly had it out and lost it. Emma 1 " 
 he called in a raised voice, "where's that blacking 
 brush ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, busied in a distant room, 
 failed to hear him. 
 
 " Emma ! " he bawled again, his face somewhat 
 redder, " where 've you women folks hid that brush?" 
 
 No answer being vouchsafed, Mr. Wigglesworth 
 strode with much dignity across the shed, and flung 
 open the kitchen door with a bang that dropped a cut 
 glass tumbler from the hands of Imogene to the floor. 
 
 " I'd like to know," he cried, "how many times I've 
 got to ask you a question 'fore I can get an answer ? " 
 
 "What 's that ? " cried Mrs. Wigglesworth from the 
 front hall ; " is that you speaking, Ellery ? What are 
 you saying?" 
 
 " What am I saying ? " repeated Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 with a sneer; "what ye s'pose? Think I'm address- 
 ing the county convention, don't ye ? Pro 'bly think 
 I'm Spartacus advising the gladiators to strike." 
 
 "For mercy sake, what Is it?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, appearing in the door. " I 'm half dis- 
 tracted looking for my gloves." 
 
 " Don't ye go putting on any of your overbearing 
 ways with me," bullied Mr. Wigglesworth, shaking 
 his head. " Why don't ye answer me when I ask a 
 civil question?" 
 
 30*
 
 Caught the Train 
 
 " Why, I will," replied his wife mildly. " What do 
 you want to know ? " 
 
 "I want to know," said Mr. Wigglesworth in a 
 clear, incisive tone, "what you have cjone with that 
 blacking brush ? " 
 
 "Why, I haven't had it," protested his wife, 
 hurrying into the shed. 
 
 " Well, some fool has," snapped Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 stalking gloomily after her, "and then left it some- 
 where instead of putting it in its place, same's I've 
 ordered so many times." 
 
 " I saw you brushing your overcoat with it day be- 
 fore yesterday," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, throwing 
 anxious glances about the shed. " There it is 1 " she 
 exclaimed, "right on the window-sill, where I saw 
 you using it. I knew it was here somewhere." 
 
 " You knew a lot, you did," said Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 as he snatched the brush from his wife's hand. 
 " You 're the woman that comes around in the Spring 
 getting up answers to correspondents, you are." 
 
 " I 'm awfully glad I was here to find it for you," 
 cooed Mrs. Wigglesworth, " so you could get shined 
 up in good " 
 
 "Why don't you go into the house?" growled 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, brushing savagely at his boots. 
 " What 's the use standing around here doing nothing ? 
 Got that clean shirt of mine laid out ? " 
 
 " I declare ! " exclaimed Mrs. Wigglesworth, throw- 
 ing up her hands. " I knew there was something I 
 had forgotten to remember," and she hastened away 
 
 303
 
 How Wiggles e worth 
 
 before her husband should formulate any further 
 comments. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth brushed on. His boots seemed 
 reluctant to take a polish, and it was some moments 
 before they agreed with his critical taste. Once Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth ventured to open the door, with a sug- 
 gestion of the fleeting moments, but the countenance 
 that turned up at her over her husband's shoulder 
 stilled the words upon her lips. The boots finished, 
 Mr. Wigglesworth toyed awhile with the axe and the 
 kindlings, and then took a screw driver and made 
 some vague passes at a broken window lock. Then 
 incidentally he took out his watch. 
 
 " Great Scott ! " he yelled, bursting into the house, 
 "why didn't you tell me it was twenty minutes of 
 train time ? Want to go alone, don't ye, and leave 
 me behind ? That's just like your selfishness. Where's 
 that shirt ? " 
 
 Through the hall and up the front stairs lunged 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, throwing off his coat by the way, 
 and dashing into the bedroom like a whirlwind. 
 
 "Got that satchel packed?" he shouted, as he 
 plucked at his necktie. 
 
 "You you said you were going to pack that," 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth answered, faintly. 
 
 " Pack that nothing," retorted her husband. " How 
 d'ye s'pose I could do all those other chores and pack 
 satchels? What ails this gash-flummuxed old neck- 
 tie?" he howled, wrenching at it viciously. 
 
 " It's got tied in a hard knot," said Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, coming to his aid. " What shall I do ? " 
 
 3<>4
 
 Caught the Train 
 
 " Do ? " cried her husband. "Get it off, can't ye? 
 Get a cross-cut saw and rip it up the back any- 
 thing!" 
 
 With trembling hands Mrs. Wigglesworth cut the 
 tie with her scissors, and her husband made a dive 
 for his shirt. 
 
 "I'll see to that satchel now^" said Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth, as she darted down stairs. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth plunged into the bureau drawer, 
 and in three seconds had its varied contents admirably 
 mingled. His breath came short and loud, and per- 
 spiration began gathering on his forehead. 
 ' " Emma ! " he shouted rushing to the head of the 
 stairs, "where's them shirt studs? Why can't ye 
 leave things where I put 'em? I saw 'em in the 
 drawer only last night. Somebody's stole 'em." 
 
 "They're in the shirt," answered Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. "I put them there so as to save you time." 
 
 "Well, why did n't ye say so ? " jawed Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth. " What's the use to do a thing like that and 
 not mention it ? " 
 
 Muttering fiercely, Mr. Wigglesworth clawed his 
 way into the stiffly starched shirt, and then, with 
 what speed he was capable of, got into his Sunday 
 clothes. 
 
 " Oh, do hurry, Ellery ! " wailed his wife, " I hear 
 the train whistling for the crossing." 
 
 "Well, it won't come for whistling," answered Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, and, hurried as he was, he paused to 
 note this little flash of humor. The next instant he 
 was charging down the stairs. 
 
 305
 
 Caught the Train 
 
 "We can make it!" he exclaimed, jamming one 
 arm into his overcoat. "Gimme that satchel get 
 out of the way lemme show ye how Wigglesworth 
 fetches a train when his blood's up ! " 
 
 With a flying bound Mr. Wigglesworth was down 
 the steps, his wife following. At the foot of the 
 steps, on the front walk, was Willie Wiggles worth's 
 sled. It was usually there, when not on the back 
 walk. Mr. Wigglesworth forgot this, however, until 
 too late. 
 
 " It was a dreadful sight," said the minister after- 
 wards to his wife. "Brother Wigglesworth struck 
 the sled fairly with both feet, and the sled instantly 
 shot toward the street, with inconceivable swiftness. 
 Flinging the satchel real alligator it was, too 
 wildly about his head, and giving utterance to a 
 dreadful whoop, Brother Wigglesworth turned in the 
 air, fell flat upon his back on the sled, and then, with 
 remarkable momentum, dashed down the walk, the 
 contents of the satchel strewing the way, and thrust- 
 ing both his legs through the picket fence with such 
 violence that it took a policeman and me five minutes 
 to get him out of it." 
 
 The ministers's wife shook her head commiserat- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Poor man," she said, thinking of the train. 
 "And did he catch it?" 
 
 " No ;" said the minister, earnestly. Then, after a 
 moment's pause, he added softly, " but Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth did." 
 
 306
 
 Chapter XXXIV 
 
 Hcnv Wigglesworth 
 Operated the 
 Ladder
 
 " Mrs. Wiggles worth, with a loud shriek, disappeared from 
 view into the neighboring premises." Page 314.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. Haw Wigglesworth 
 Operated the Ladder 
 
 f ~"^HE vagrant autumn winds, ruthlessly 
 
 rending the dying leaves from their 
 
 boughs, whirled them dizzily aloft and 
 
 then went away, leaving the larger part 
 
 of them lying in the gutters of Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 
 house. Then followed the driving rains, and the 
 
 leaves, in sodden masses packed themselves closer 
 
 and rendered the gutters obsolete. 
 
 What was the surprise of Mrs. Wiggles worth, on 
 looking out of the window, to sec her husband tack- 
 ing up the street under the discouraging weight of a 
 thirty-foot ladder. His hat was jammed severely on 
 the back of his head, an angry light played upon his 
 features, and his wife could read, even at a distance, 
 that all had not gone well with the ladder. Even as 
 she gazed, with amazement crowning her visage, the 
 October breeze caught at one end of the ladder and 
 thrust it about so that the other end picked off the 
 bonnet and top hair of a woman who was on her way 
 to the post office, and who instantly emitted a startled 
 scream, whereupon Mr. Wigglesworth whirled the 
 ladder around just in the nick of time to project it 
 into the stomach of a fat gentleman, whose breath 
 instantly shot out of him with a loud -woof! 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth could easily discern these par- 
 ticulars, and her imagination supplied the language 
 
 309
 
 Wigglesworth 
 
 of the fierce altercation that immediately ensued. 
 Full of kindly interest for her husband, she rushed 
 to the front door. 
 
 " Why Ellery I " she cried in a voice charged with 
 sympathy, " what under the sun have you got there ? " 
 
 " What ye s 'pose it is ? " retorted Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, who at that moment had the ladder involved 
 in the gate, where it caught in seven or eight differ- 
 ent places at once; "think it's a soda fountain don't 
 ye ? Looks like a horseless wagon, prob'ly ? " 
 
 "I see that it's a ladder," said Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 in a placating tone, "but what are you going to do 
 with it?" 
 
 "What does anybody do with a ladder?" snarled 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, mashing a picket out of the gate, 
 and then, as the ladder suddenly fetched loose, strug- 
 gling violently into the yard and poking out a cellar 
 window; "going to use it to sift ashes with of 
 course. Wh'd ye s'pose I got it for, to wear to a 
 masquerade ball ? " 
 
 Throwing the ladder to the ground and kicking at 
 it once or twice as a relief to his feelings, Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth pulled his necktie off his shoulder and 
 took a critical survey of the house eves. 
 
 " First thing," he said, when his breath had got to 
 playing regularly through his lungs, " is to h'ist the 
 thing up." 
 
 " You want to get right under it and keep push- 
 ing," suggested Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "That's it," returned her husband, "you've hit it, 
 
 310
 
 Operated the Ladder 
 
 first time. How to Find Out Things, by Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, for the use of wives who want to make 
 home attractive in spite of themselves. " 
 
 Grasping the ladder at one end he raised it above 
 his head and walked slowly under it until its weight 
 became excessive. 
 
 " Catch hold here, can't ye ? " he cried. " Want to 
 see the thing fall and cave in my head?" 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth promptly lent assistance, and 
 the instant her husband felt the relief he took down 
 his own benumbed arms and caressed them. Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth endured the burden for a few brief 
 seconds and then, with a loud cry, dropped her hold 
 and jumped away. The ladder, clattering downward, 
 scraped closely to Mr. Wiggles worth's ear, and nearly 
 broke off one of his shoulders. 
 
 When he had recovered they called out Imogene. 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth was shown how to rest her weight 
 upon one end of the ladder while Mr. Wigglesworth 
 and Imogene should begin at the other end, and by 
 slow progression raise it against the side of the house. 
 
 *Lift! Lift! grunted Mr. Wigglesworth to the 
 hired girl ; " don't leave it all for me to do ! " 
 
 "It's beginning to lift at this end," called Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth in agitation. 
 
 " Well, hold it still," bawled her husband. 
 
 " I can't ! " screamed Mrs. Wigglesworth, and then, 
 to her horror, she felt herself slowly rising from the 
 ground. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth and Imogene, having penetrated 
 
 3 11 .
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 beyond the centre of gravity, and serving as a ful- 
 crum, the longer end of the ladder, following the law 
 of physics, trailed downward, lifting Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth at the opposite extremity. The weight pressed 
 awfully upon Mr. Wigglesworth, but he dare not loose 
 his hold for fear that it all might come down upon 
 him in disaster. Then he noticed his wife. 
 
 " Get off that ladder 1 " he yelled ; "what ye doing 
 up there ! " 
 
 "I I can't help it, Ellery I " screamed Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, gripping tenaciously at the rounds ; 
 " Oh, do let me down ! " 
 
 " Let ye down 1 " howled Mr. Wigglesworth, " how 
 ye s'pose I'm stopping ye? Boost, can't ye?" he 
 hissed to Imogene, who, with eyes stonily set in her 
 head, held aloft a pair of red arms that neither 
 winced nor faltered. 
 
 Staggering about in this painful fashion, a see-saw 
 motion was communicated to the ladder, and Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth bobbed slowly up and down like an 
 old-fashioned pair of steel-yards. 
 
 " Quit that teetering! " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 the veins of whose neck were getting ready to burst 
 and run all over his wilted collar ; " what ye think this 
 is, a game? Reckon it's a Sunday-school picnic, 
 don't ye ? " 
 
 These observations seemed to be forced out of him 
 explosively, as he trod up and down the soggy lawn. 
 Citizens going by had to stop, astounded to see a man 
 and woman balancing a ladder above their head for 
 
 312
 
 Operated the Ladder 
 
 no ostensible reason, and another woman bobbing 
 away upon one end of it and screaming. A crowd 
 of these people now lined the fence and some of 
 them volunteered advice. 
 
 " I would n't stay up there any longer," kindly ven- 
 tured a benevolent-looking man ; " that rocking motion 
 is certain to produce nausea." 
 
 "It's an elopement don't you see it is?" put in 
 a man with a purple nose. " That old fellow under 
 the ladder caught her just in time." 
 
 " She looks too aged to be eloping," said a man in 
 whiskers. 
 
 " You can't tell," retorted the purple-nosed man, 
 with a shake of the head ; " some of these women 
 will do anything to get married. " 
 
 " I think," called the benevolent-looking man, " that 
 if you can hold on for a few moments longer I can 
 ring up the hook and ladder company," and he made 
 as if he would start off instantly. 
 
 Some of these remarks penetrated to the ears of 
 Mr. Wigglesworth. Maddened by the dreadfulness 
 of the situation, enraged by the thought that he was 
 creating a scene that would be certain to get into the 
 papers, he put all his strength into action and with 
 his burden charged furiously up the driveway. At 
 the rear of his lot rose a high board fence, and with a 
 a loud snarl of rage he aimed the ladder for it. The 
 upper end, with Mrs. Wigglesworth upon it, caught 
 the fence top, with its impetus, slid partially over, and 
 then its free end flung itself into the air and Mrs.
 
 Operated the Ladder 
 
 Wigglesworth, with a loud shriek, disappeared from 
 view into the neighboring premises. 
 
 " Hoo-ray ! " screamed the audience by the fence. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth picked himself out of the leafless 
 rosebush and shook his fist at them savagely. 
 
 " If any of you loafers will step over in this yard," 
 he called, scowling fiercely, " I'll take and knock his 
 head off."
 
 Chapter XXXV 
 
 Wtggles<wortb 
 Skated
 
 " ' I'm going to show ye how me and Aleck Dodley used to 
 do a spread eagle. ' " Page 322.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV.- How Wiggles<worth 
 Skated 
 
 I 
 
 heavy rain had overflowed the back 
 yard and the sudden freeze following 
 made a miniature ice pond of it. Over 
 this smooth surface Willie Wigglesworth 
 took his wobbling way, thrashing his arms and snap- 
 ping his body to and fro violently. 
 
 " I think Willie does very well," approved Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, looking out of the dining-room window. 
 
 "Poh!" said Mr. Wigglesworth contemptuously, 
 "if I couldn't do better than that I'd sell out. Me 
 and the Dodley twins were the skaters for ye when 
 we were boys. Could n't none of 'em skate around 
 us. People used to come and watch us, I remember. 
 You ought to seen me cut a spread eagle." 
 
 " I'm sure it must have been sweet," said Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth ; " I'd like to see you do it now." 
 
 "Well, I guess I could do it," said Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth with a boastful shake of the head ; " but I'm 
 getting too old for such things, I s'pose." And he 
 gave a little sigh of regret over his lost youth. 
 
 Willie at that instant going down on the back of his 
 neck Mrs. Wigglesworth hastened out with the lini- 
 ment bottle, while her husband repaired to the office. 
 All through his busy forenoon visions of that ice patch 
 went galloping. 
 
 " There 1 " he exclaimed with an important air, lay-
 
 Wiggles e worth 
 
 ing a package on the table, " there's something that's 
 got the ginger right in it." 
 
 " Oh, what is it ? " said Mrs. Wigglesworth, backing 
 away. 
 
 " Don't be scart," replied her husband ; " 'twon't 
 bite ye. What ye think it is anyway tarantulas? 
 Reckon it's some of them sweet pickles of yours, 
 don't ye ? It's a pair of skates, that's what it is," 
 Mr. Wigglesworth triumphantly concluded. 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth," cried his wife, " you don't 
 mean to tell me that you are going to skate ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " retorted Mr. Wigglesworth smartly ; 
 "ain't I got as much right to as anybody? Wa'n't 
 you saying so, this morning ? " 
 
 "Ye es, of course," hesitated his wife; "but at 
 your age and it's so long since you 
 
 " Oh, yes, there you go," said Mr. Wigglesworth in 
 a high key, " never willing for me to have any fun 
 just keep Wigglesworth slaving at the office earning 
 money to support your extravagances that's all you 
 care. Don't ye s'pose I like a little relaxation ? Think 
 I don't need exercise ? Want me to fail up on your 
 hands and be a wreck, don't ye ? That's all you care 
 about me." 
 
 Comforting himself with this sort of after-dinner 
 talk Mr. Wigglesworth repaired to the back yard and 
 busied himself with the skates. They were the new- 
 fashioned club skates and Mr. Wigglesworth exper- 
 ienced considerable difficulty in their adjustment. 
 
 "What kind of fool things are these anyway!" he 
 
 318
 
 Skated 
 
 muttered, twitching at them savagely; "why don't 
 they have straps to 'em, same 's they did when I was 
 a boy ? " 
 
 " You're"trying to put them on hind side first," 
 volunteered Willie ; " they go the other way." 
 
 " You shut your head," advised Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 "or I'll take and shut it for ye. You boys nowadays 
 are getting most too smart." 
 
 Willie meekly retired to the fence and Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth fumbled on. Somehow his fingers had grown 
 to be two inches in diameter and all feeling was gone 
 out of them. His breath, coming laboredly, hung in 
 a smoking cloud above his head. 
 
 " Why don't ye come out here and help a feller ? " 
 he yelled, noticing Mrs. Wigglesworth looking through 
 the window ; " what ye standing in there for with 
 your thumb in your mouth ? Think I want to set 
 here till my legs freeze off just to amuse you?" 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth came hastily forth, a shawl 
 thrown over her head, and with her assistance, and 
 some grudgingly accepted advice from Willie, the 
 skates were finally adjusted to Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 feet. Then that gentleman made a motion to stand 
 up, but appearing to think better of it, hastily resumed 
 his sitting posture. Looking around angrily he en- 
 countered Willie. 
 
 "What are you laughing at ? " he demanded sternly. 
 
 "I I wasn't laughing," stammered Willie. 
 
 "Yes ye was too!" said Mr. Wigglesworth with a 
 threatening shake of his head. "Don't ye give me 
 
 319
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 any of your lip, young man, or I'll take and dust that 
 jacket of yours till you'll think you've been through 
 a steam carpet beater." 
 
 With much circumspection, and steadying himself 
 by a grasp on his wife's skirts, Mr. Wigglesworth 
 achieved a semi-upright position, and then a foot shot 
 suddenly toward the zodiac and with extraordinary 
 swiftness he jarred the neighborhood. 
 
 " What'd ye do that for ? " he shouted, shaking both 
 fists in the air. 
 
 " I did n't do anything," protested his wife. 
 
 " Yes, you did too ! " cried Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 don't ye s'pose I know ? ' Fore I was ready you took 
 and twitched away and flung me off my balance. 
 Want to see my skull split open, don't ye ? Want to 
 have some fun collecting my accident policy, prob'ly. 
 Now stand still, can't ye, and not act so numb." 
 
 Once more Mr. Wigglesworth attained his feet. 
 Grasping his wife's arm firmly he made one or two 
 uncertain strokes, his body lunging forward at a pain- 
 ful angle. 
 
 " Where 's that hired girl," he cried loudly; "why 
 ain't she out here doing some good ? Can't she leave 
 off smashing them dishes a minute and do something 
 worth while?" 
 
 Imogene now came forth. Imogene's motto was to 
 please. She came out wearing one of Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's summer hats. 
 
 " Here," called that gentleman in a tone of author- 
 ity, "come get on the other side." 
 
 320
 
 Skated 
 
 "Wha what are you going to do, Ellery?" 
 gasped Mrs. Wiggles worth, her strength nearly ex- 
 hausted with holding her husband erect. 
 
 "Do?" replied Mr. Wigglesworth hotly, "what ye 
 s 'pose I 'm going to do ? Think I 'm going to revolve 
 on the flying trapeze, don't ye ? Can 't ye see that 
 I 'm out of practice ? All I want is a little steadying, 
 till I get my hand in again, and then I '11 show you 
 some cavorting that'll make your eyes stick out." 
 
 With his body bent uncomfortably forward and his 
 elbows supported on either side by his feminine as- 
 sistants Mr. Wigglesworth progressed slowly across 
 the yard. The woman next door now put up her 
 kitchen window and began to take notes. 
 
 "It's it's awfully slippery," whimpered Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, feeling the weight growing heavier. 
 
 " That 's it 1 " snapped her husband as loudly as his 
 position would admit, " find fault all ye can. If it's 
 slippery to you what ye s'pose it must be for me, 
 boosted up here on these gash-flummuxed old skates ? 
 Don't ye be so selfish quit that!" he suddenly 
 yelled to the girl on his left. 
 
 "I I didn't do nawthin'," answered Imogene. 
 
 " Yes, ye did too ! " jawed Mr. Wigglesworth ; "you 
 let down your hold not that way 1 " he called again 
 as the girl gave an energetic boost, "don't ye see 
 them sudden jerks make my neck crack ? " 
 
 When they had gone around the yard three or four 
 times Mr. Wigglesworth had arrived at a nearly up- 
 right position and even ventured to make a stroke or 
 two by himself. 
 
 321
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 " Ah, that's the stuff ! " he exclaimed approvingly ; 
 "that's the way me and the Dodley twins used to give 
 it to 'em. Now look out there ! " he cried, his blood 
 mounting with sudden enthusiasm, " I'm going to show 
 ye how me and Aleck Dodley used to do a spread 
 eagle." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth instinctively raised her voice in 
 a note of remonstrance. 
 
 " Don't try it, Ellery, I beg of you," she said, but 
 her words only spurred her husband on. 
 
 "The way to do it," he explained, "is to take three 
 or four strokes, then throw your heels around back to 
 back and sail ahead." 
 
 Suiting the action to these words Mr. Wigglesworth 
 struck out boldly. The woman next door, in explain- 
 ing it afterwards to the reporter, said that when Mr. 
 Wigglesworth started to throw his heels around he 
 must have thrown one of them around five or six 
 times, and the other nearly twice as many, judging by 
 the different directions that he shortly afterwards ap- 
 peared striving to proceed in. It was awful, she said, 
 to hear the loud clicking of Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 vertabrae as his body violently jack-knifed back and 
 forth, and never, she declared with a shudder, had 
 she seen such language screamed over a back-yard 
 fence as Mr. Wigglesworth gave utterance to, as with 
 his arms clawing at the keen winter atmosphere he 
 went hurtling the whole length of the yard and dis- 
 appeared into a collection of braided rugs hung out to 
 air, with which he instantly involved himself, and then
 
 Skated 
 
 going down with a jar that was distinctly felt in the 
 neighboring cellars. 
 
 " My darling Ellery ! " screamed Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 rushing frantically across the ice and slipping heavily 
 down upon her fallen husband. 
 
 "Oh oh oh ! " moaned Mr. Wigglesworth ; 
 " oh, my poor medula oblongata ! " 
 
 " He's wandering he's out of his head !" sobbed 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth hysterically ; " he's calling on 
 some Italian actress." 
 
 Then Mr. Wigglesworth came back to himself. 
 
 " What's this ? " he howled, pawing fiercely at the 
 braided rugs ; " who tied this gash-flummuxed old 
 relic around my neck ? Take it away take it away, 
 I tell ye ! " 
 
 Then he wrenched off the skates and flung them 
 viciously against the fence. 
 
 " That's the way ! " he shouted, struggling to his 
 feet, "that's the way I get served, when I take your 
 advice." 
 
 " My darling Ellery ! " said Mrs. Wigglesworth. 
 
 " Don't ye Ellery me ! " jawed Mr. Wigglesworth 
 as he limped up the steps ; " I never tried yet to do 
 a thing to please you but I made a fool of myself, and 
 the next time you want any skating done you 'and that 
 leather-headed hired girl can go off by yourselves and 
 do it. You know just about enough between ye not 
 to keep off the thin ice and I'd give five dollars to be 
 there and see ye do it." 
 
 And long after the house was closed the woman 
 next door could still hear Mr. Wigglesworth rumbling. 
 
 323
 
 Chapter XXXVI 
 
 HQ<W Wigglesworth 
 Settled Woman s 
 Suffrage
 
 '"The marshal will conduct him as our welcome guest to 
 a seat.' " Page jjo.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. Haw Wigglesworth 
 Settled Woman's Suffrage 
 
 r~ ^HE ladies of the the Saturday After- 
 noon Suffrage Club are going to meet 
 here this this afternoon," fluttered 
 -*- Mrs. Wigglesworth, looking earnestly 
 
 into the coffee pot, as if there were something par- 
 ticular there demanding her attention. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth paused with his knife half way 
 to his mouth and shot across the table a look that 
 passed quite through his wife and caromed on the 
 sideboard. 
 
 "The what meets here?" he said, with emphasis 
 on the what. 
 
 "Why, our our Saturday Afternoon Suffrage 
 Club," stammered his wife. "We meet and discuss 
 suffrage, you know," she went on; "that's why we 
 call it the Suffrage Club, and we call it the Saturday 
 Afternoon Suffrage Club because we meet on Satur- 
 day afternoons, you know." 
 
 "Oh, yes," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, with firm 
 sarcasm. "I see I understand that. Most men 
 would think it was called the Saturday Afternoon 
 Club because it met on Monday morning and took in 
 washing, but Wigglesworth knows better. Sharp 
 fellow, that Wigglesworth even his wife sees that ! 
 Well, what do ye do when ye get there ? Talk and 
 play whist during the lull in conversation ? " 
 
 3 2 7
 
 How Wigglestworth 
 
 "No," explained his wife, "we discuss questions 
 about about suffrage, you know, and and " 
 
 " There, there that'll do ! " croaked Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, loftly ; " that's enough I don't want to hear 
 another thing about it. Suffrage I S'pose ye want 
 to vote, don't ye ? " 
 
 "Why," Mrs. Wigglesworth timidly assented, "we 
 think it is no more than right that " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; of course," jeered her husband, " you Ve 
 got it you understand the whole thing 1 Put you 
 and John Stuart Mill together and you 'd know it 
 pretty near all. Who belongs to this female amal- 
 gamation of latter-day thinkers ? " 
 
 "Why," Mrs. Wigglesworth returned, knitting her 
 forehead thoughtfully, ''there's Mrs. Lundley, and 
 Miss Simmons, and Miss Tosh, and Mrs. Brimley, and 
 Mrs. Remley Hemingway, and ever so many more. 
 And they said they did hope you would be present 
 and" 
 
 " Me ! " cried Mr. Wigglesworth ; " me be present ? 
 Well, I guess not I " he added grandly ; " hope I've 
 got more sense than to go prancing round after a 
 parcel of bald-headed females in glasses. Want to get 
 me to head a petition, I s'pose ? Think I'd be a good 
 hand to present a preamble and four resolutions to 
 the state convention, don't they? Well, they can't 
 catch old Wigglesworth with none of that foolishness, 
 I may not be so old as some of these women, but I 
 bet I know as much ! " 
 
 " They said they'd be very much much flattered 
 
 328
 
 Settled Woman s Suffrage 
 
 if you'd come," cooed his wife. "They said your 
 
 your experience and practical view of of things 
 would be of great value, and they really did hope you 
 would honor them." 
 
 "Pooh I pshaw 1 great lots!" Mr. Wigglesworth 
 sniffed, but the shaft of flattery got under his armor, 
 and he went to the office carrying his head a little 
 higher than usual. 
 
 " B'George 1" he said to himself, smiting the desk 
 and grinning, "it would serve them smart Aleck 
 women right to go there and hear some of their fool 
 talk and then get up and let daylight into them I " 
 
 The more Mr. Wigglesworth turned this about in 
 his mind the more fun it appeared to promise him, 
 and people who understood the operation of that 
 gentleman's reasoning powers could readily compre- 
 hend why, shortly after the club hour, he was seen 
 skipping jauntily up his own front doorsteps and let- 
 ting himself into the hall. His idea was to create a 
 sensation by walking in on the ladies, and by his 
 ease of manner and lofty carriage to dwarf their pre- 
 sumptuous proceedings into proper insignificance. 
 These were not exactly his words, but they contain 
 the idea. 
 
 But when he opened the parlor door and stepped 
 inside, his haughtiness was instantly lowered. The 
 president of the meeting, well-dressed and of com- 
 manding presence, was speaking, and at the swinging 
 of the door she turned and surveyed the conquering 
 Wigglesworth, balancing her gold-rimmed glasses 
 daintily in her fingers. 
 
 329
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 " It is rather unusual," she said with remarkable 
 self-possession, " for our proceedings to be interrupted 
 in this summary manner, but naturally Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth for I presume it to be the husband of our 
 hostess could not have been acquainted with our 
 rules. The marshal will conduct him as our welcome 
 guest to a seat." 
 
 A trig little woman with black eyes and the pret- 
 tiest red cheeks in the world took the noble Wiggles- 
 worth in tow, and marched him, in the face of two or 
 three dozen amused women to the front of the apart- 
 ment. The lordly Wigglesworth, the pride of his 
 carriage all pulled out of him by this ordeal, after 
 stepping on his own feet and confusedly begging his 
 own pardon, slunk into a chair. Then he saw that 
 he was close under the president's eye, and also fac- 
 ing every woman in the room. Taking out his hand- 
 kerchief he mopped his forehead gingerly. 
 
 Then the proceedings went on, while Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth stole furtive glances about the room. What he 
 saw did n't tend to restore his sunken spirits. The 
 ladies were immaculately dressed ; they presented an 
 assured bearing that the entrance of a man had failed 
 in the least to dash, and he caught now and then a 
 laughing eye bent in his direction. This operated to 
 set his garments still more closely to him. 
 
 " Naturally," the president resumed, when the con- 
 fusion had subsided, " in pursuing our desire for the 
 exercise of the ballot, we do not expect instantly to 
 impress our opinions upon the men the lords of 
 
 330
 
 Settled Woman s Suffrage 
 
 creation," she added lifting her eyebrows slightly in 
 Mr. Wigglesworth's direction. "But we must per- 
 severe, we must be patient. Many of us are growing 
 in the knowledge of this movement. Let me urge 
 upon you the wisdom of obtaining from our opponents 
 always, when possible, their reasons why the ballot 
 should be withheld from us. This will inevitably fur- 
 nish material for thought, and thought, well directed, 
 will produce in you increasing strength of purpose. 
 For an illustration, how helpful might it not be to us 
 if the husband of our hostess, who has kindly con- 
 sented to honor our humble proceedings, should deign 
 to give us, in his own language, his views upon the 
 woman's suffrage movement." 
 
 A ripple of applause ran round the room at this 
 suggestion. Mr. Wigglesworth felt all the blood in 
 his system charge into his head and then die away, 
 just as the lid seemed about to burst off. He saw 
 the president gazing at him with a mingled air of 
 kindness and amusement. The other women seemed 
 to be whirling about the room in a circle, like a re- 
 volving toy that he remembered once looking into. 
 
 I I er you er blm! blml" Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth exclaimed, clearing his throat with great 
 effort ; "you will er not not er being ' ' 
 and then, with a little helpless rattle, his voice stag- 
 gered across the carpet and expired under the maho- 
 gany table. 
 
 "Perhaps later," the president suggested, "when 
 the other speakers have tried to give voice to their
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 
 somewhat crude opinions, Mr. Wigglesworth will find 
 something more worthy of his attention. I confess 
 that up to this moment he has seen nothing that has 
 made it worth his while to address us." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth tried to resurrect his wilted col- 
 lar, as he looked uneasily at the piano. He would 
 have given a dollar, or more, for a friendly glance 
 from his wife, but that lady was on the outer edge of 
 the company and inaccessible. 
 
 " My husband says," began a woman in a Worth 
 gown, "that it won't do to let the women vote, for 
 when they do, he says, they '11 make the officers en- 
 force the prohibitory law, and that will hurt business." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth recalled that he and his next- 
 door neighbor had come to the same conclusion only 
 the week before. 
 
 " Thirty years ago," said a tall woman in gray hair, 
 "I married my husband, who was then a poor but 
 honest man, and he has frequently been that way 
 since. The times that he prospers best are those in 
 which he is governed by my suggestions." 
 
 A wave of applause broke forth at this. 
 
 " I hope," the president blandly commented, with 
 another glance at the withered Wigglesworth, "that 
 this remark of our sister may not be deemed pre- 
 sumptuous. I doubt not that every woman present 
 understands how often her husband comes to her for 
 advice. Intuitively she discerns the course that is 
 best. Her advice follows swiftly, but it is oftenest 
 right, and if acted upon, the husband prospers. Walk- 
 
 333
 
 Settled Woman's Suffrage 
 
 ing about our streets today are men counted rich and 
 successful, men who but for their wives' unerring 
 judgment would be lying shipwrecked. And it is 
 oftenest this sort of man, the one that leans upon his 
 wife steadfastly, who laughs to utter scorn the sug- 
 gestion that she should be intrusted with voting power. 
 No man, I am sure, has remarked this more clearly 
 than our guest of the afternoon, and the club will now 
 consider itself honored if Mr. Wigglesworth will kindly 
 explain to them how it appears to him." 
 
 Alas ! that the historian should have to chronicle it. 
 What shall the harvests be, if the lists thus broadly 
 open, no champion rides forth? Where now the in- 
 vincible Wigglesworth, his quips, his gibes, his ready 
 flow of speech? This was the opportunity he had 
 looked forward to this the exact moment to lift his 
 trenchant blade of speech and " let daylight into them. " 
 The western sun slanted in at the parlor window and 
 rippled upon the wall. But the daylight of Mr. Wig- 
 gles worth's furnishing was elsewhere. Sometimes into 
 every man's life such tragedy comes. 
 
 When Mrs. Wigglesworth came back from the hall, 
 having bade the last member good-bye, she found her 
 husband still sitting in the chair. His air of utter 
 dejection alarmed her. 
 
 " Are you ill, Ellery ? " she anxiously cried, running 
 across the room with outstretched hands. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth sprang to his feet, a more than 
 roused lion. 
 
 " Don't ye lay a finger on me ! " he shouted, grab- 
 
 333
 
 Wiggtes < wortf) 
 
 bing up a gilt subscription volume of poems and dash- 
 ing it into the piano, where it made a horrible grinding 
 with the bass strings ; " what ye think ye're trying to 
 act out, anyway, with your old collection of fossil 
 remains? Want me to go on a red-headed ticket, 
 don't ye, and haul female voters to the polls ? What 
 ye trying to do, filling this house full of fat old eman- 
 cipated women with spectacles? Spectacles!" he 
 snorted with concentrated scorn, and elated by the 
 clever turn of his humor, " that's just what they are, 
 and the worse the more of it ! S'pose you '11 be want- 
 ing a little suit of bloomers next, won't ye, and go 
 pawing round on a bicycle 1 Ya-a-a-h-h 1 " he yelled, 
 as thought of the afternoon's roasting smote upon 
 him, " you think it all-fired cunning to get a mess of 
 old maids rubbing their mud off on this new carpet 
 and trying to look intelligent, but you need n't think 
 you can fool old Wiggles worth. I saw through ye 
 from the start 1 You thought you was going to get 
 me to make a speech and blow the stuffing out of 
 their fool remarks and I could have done it, too, in 
 less than a jiffy and then they 'dhave gone waltzing 
 round town saying Wigglesworth insulted them in his 
 own house, and so make political capital out of it and 
 get sympathy, but you've got to get up in the morn- 
 ing, I tell ye, the whole kit and bilin' of ye, if you 
 expect to play them little games on Wigglesworth. 
 None of yoUr back talk round herel" he shouted, as 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth opened her mouth ; " you can jaw all 
 you want to with your long-necked old suffragists, but 
 
 334
 
 Settled Woman s Suffrage 
 
 I want ye to understand that in this house I'm the 
 boss, and the public wants to be acquainted with it." 
 
 And Mrs. Wigglesworth said to the neighbor who 
 came in that evening to borrow some yeast, that she 
 never had known Ellery to have such a flow of language. 
 
 335
 
 Chapter XXXVII 
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 Renewed his 
 Boyhood
 
 It was a snowball with a marble heart." Page 341.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. How Wigglesworth 
 Renewed His Boyhood 
 
 "T DECLARE," said Mr. Wigglesworth, who 
 was looking out of the front window, " if that 
 does n't make me feel like a boy again 1 " 
 
 -*- In the vacant lot across the street the 
 boys of the neighborhood, his own among the number, 
 had cast up the walls of a snow fort, and now a fine 
 mimic battle was raging. Mr. Wigglesworth noted the 
 life and action and his blood moved quicker. A man's 
 blood will do that way when his youth comes back to 
 him. He recalled that Napoleon fought snow-fights 
 at Brienne. 
 
 " B'George ! " he exclaimed with a shuffle of his 
 feet, " if I have n't two minds to go out and give those 
 boys a try myself." 
 
 "Don't you think you might take cold ?" chirped 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, who was looking over his shoul- 
 der. 
 
 That settled it. All Mr. Wigglesworth wanted was 
 his wife to file an objection. 
 
 " Ba-h-h-h ! " he growled, instantly hoisting his voice 
 to a high key ; " you're always wanting me to muffle 
 up and totter and drop into the tomb. Think you're 
 going to get my life insurance, don't ye ? Where's my 
 mittens ! " And the next instant Mr. Wigglesworth 
 was sliding down the front stoop and plowing across 
 the yard on his back, having slipped in his haste as he 
 
 339
 
 Ho e w Wigglesnuarth 
 
 came through the door. The boys saw him and stayed 
 the battle for a moment. 
 
 " Who's de cove in de red mittens ? " cried one of 
 them. 
 
 " It's pa," shouted Willie Wigglesworth, as the old 
 man struggled to his feet. "Hooray, pa look at 
 our tort 1 " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth picked his enthusiasm out of the 
 snow and said : 
 
 " Boys, I remember when me and the Dodley twins 
 had forts all one winter, and I'm going to show you 
 lads how us old fellows used to run a fight." 
 
 " Whoo-pee 1 " yelled the boys. 
 
 " That's it 1 " cried Mr. Wigglesworth, enthusiasm 
 mounting. " I'll stand the whole crowd of ye. Get 
 into the fort there, and look out for me, for down 
 come the walls at the first onslaught." 
 
 Nuts for the boys ? If the slang may be pardoned 
 that's exactly what it was. With a yell they got in- 
 side the fort, and the boy with two front teeth miss- 
 ing instantly lodged a snowball against Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's prominent adam's apple. 
 
 " Who did that 1 " he shrieked, as the fractured 
 snowball slid down inside his shirt-bosom. " Don't 
 ye see I was n't ready ? " 
 
 Nobody volunteering an answer Mr. Wigglesworth 
 swallowed his passion and hastily rolled up some balls 
 of snow. 
 
 " You boys," he said, as he ostentatiously went 
 through these preparations, "are too slow. You 
 
 340
 
 Renewed His Boyhood 
 
 stand off and discharge projectiles at each other, but 
 what does that amount to ? What I propose to do is 
 to carry your works by assault, y'understand, same's 
 I used to do with the Dodley twins. I give ye fair 
 warning, you see, because I'm a man and don't want 
 to hurt ye. Once I get inside your fort you must 
 scatter, else of course I'll have to fire you out. Now 
 look out, for the old man's coming, and death rides 
 on the gale." 
 
 The poetry of battle mounted in Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's imagination as he shouted these warning 
 words, and then he charged forward. It never was 
 clearly explained to him what next took place. Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, who was looking on from the window, 
 said that for an instant the sun was obscured by two 
 million snowballs that issued from the fort, every one 
 of which, she thinks, struck Mr. Wigglesworth on the 
 head. 
 
 That was subsequently understood to be Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth's opinion also. 
 
 Half-way up to the fort, her deposition continues, 
 Mr. Wigglesworth encountered quicksands in the 
 form of yielding snow, into which he sank so deeply 
 that his line of attack wavered. This gave opportu- 
 nity for the beseiged to discharge another volley, 
 wherein was displayed the almost superhuman accur- 
 acy of aim of the boy with two front teeth missing. 
 It was a snowball with a marble heart, the marble 
 having been frozen into it over night, and it flattened 
 Mr. Wiggles worth's nose so closely to his face that 
 
 34i
 
 Wiggles<worth 
 
 his own family never could have picked him out 
 among the dead. 
 
 A man chopping wood over behind the mountain 
 put a piece in the local paper stating that he distinctly 
 heard Mr. Wigglesworth's yell. It was a clear, frosty 
 day, when sound travels a great distance. 
 
 "Who fired that rock?" screamed Mr. 'Wiggles- 
 worth. He was answered by a cheer and another 
 volley. Willie Wigglesworth was overheard by a 
 comrade who stood next in line, a boy with freckles 
 but said to be quite truthful, to hiss between his 
 smoke-begrimed lips that he'd give two cents to plug 
 one into the old man's ear, and the boy afterwards 
 stated that the feat was accomplished, and claimed the 
 two cents. 
 
 The historian has to confess that the vehicle of nar- 
 rative is inadequate to the rapid action of the scene 
 which Mrs. Wigglesworth with bated breath now wit- 
 nessed from the window. Her husband, she states, 
 appeared to have abandoned his intention of showing 
 how battles were won in the days of the Dodley twins, 
 and she judged by the frenzied manner in which he 
 plucked his legs out of the clinging snow and lashed 
 the atmosphere with his arms and uttered remarks 
 that it were not fit for women to hear, though she lis- 
 tened as carefully as she could and even tried to get 
 the window open, but it was frozen down, that his 
 purpose was to catch as many boys as he could in 
 his two Tiands at once and pull their legs off, which 
 seemed to her a horrible thing to do, but few of us 
 
 343
 
 Renewed His Boyhood 
 
 realize, unless we have been there, and none of us 
 have if we could secure a substitute, what a terrible 
 thing war is. 
 
 But just as he got close under the walls and was 
 reaching for a boy, Mr. Wigglesworth suddenly disap- 
 peared from the gaze of his horrified wife. The boys, 
 with a knowledge of warfare such as the Dodley twins 
 never dreamed of, had mined the snowdrifts before the 
 walls, and when Mr. Wiggles worth's heavy weight 
 was projected upon the super-impending crust, he 
 went through without waiting a moment to take breath. 
 At the bottom of the excavated space the juvenile 
 engineers with great ingenuity had arranged a small 
 pond of water in which to freeze snow-balls, and which 
 was found to be large enough to take in all of Mr. 
 Wigglesworth at once. The boys then tipped the 
 walls of the fort over on him, and with three cheers 
 for the Dodley twins trooped gaily away. 
 
 " Why, Ellery ! " sympathized Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 as she held the door open while her husband dragged 
 slowly up the steps ; "don't you " 
 
 "You get into the house!" yelled Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, " and don't you let me have any more yap out 
 of your head about being young again. 'F I'd gone 
 to the office as I intended instead of trying to sprawl 
 around here amusing you I 'd been earning money 
 now to support your extravagances, instead of looking 
 like a blamed fool for your old-maid neighbors to point 
 their crooked fingers at. Prance me out some dry 
 clothes, d 'ye hear, and don't be standing around there 
 all day with your hands in your mouth like a gibber- 
 in diot!" 
 
 343
 
 Chapter XXXVIII 
 
 H&w Wigglesworth 
 Got A Valentine
 
 " 'Yah-yah-yah,' snarled Mr. Wigglesworth as he slammed 
 the front door." Page 332.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. How Wigglesworth 
 Got a Valentine 
 
 f "*^HE door bell rang while they were at 
 breakfast, and presently Imogene came 
 in with a letter, which she laid by Mrs. 
 * Wigglesworth's plate. 
 
 "O-o-h-h!" said that lady, with a little scream of 
 surprise. "A letter for me! Why, who do you 
 suppose it is from ? " 
 
 She turned the envelope over a number of times 
 and examined it from every point of the compass. 
 
 " I wonder who it can be from ? " she repeated, 
 with her forehead furrowing. 
 
 "What odds does it make?" said Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth, testily. "Think it's from the Ahkoond of 
 Swat, don't ye ? Prob'ly an invitation from the Czar 
 to run over and have a game of gorf on the ice." 
 
 "You don't suppose," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 laying her hands on the table, " that it's from Aunt 
 Sarah, do you ? You know she said last Summer that 
 she might come on and spend a month or two this 
 Winter." 
 
 "Well, she don't get in, if she does!" violently 
 answered Mr. Wigglesworth. "Think I'm going to 
 have that old female around here again talking 
 woman's rights and me having to get up nights to 
 heat hot-water bottles for her neuralgia ? Not much, 
 I ain't," growled Mr. Wigglesworth, shaking his head 
 
 at the sideboard. 
 
 347
 
 Ho<w Wigglesworth 
 
 " But, no," his wife went on, after scanning the 
 envelope from another point of view, " this can't be 
 from Aunt Sarah, because the postmark is so blurred 
 that you can't make out where it's from. Oh, dear," 
 she sighed, " how bothersome such things are 1 " 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth sawed away at his steak. 
 
 "Seems to me," he said, in a voice of sarcasm, 
 " that Mrs. Wiggles is more than unusually numb this 
 morning. Why don't ye look inside the letter if ye 
 want to know who its from. Think you're the new 
 discovery in photographing, don't ye ? Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth in her great act of looking into things by a 
 process of her own. Patent applied for." 
 
 Taking a hairpin from the back of her head, Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth slipped it neatly under the flap of the 
 envelope. With nervous fingers she plucked forth 
 and opened to view a gaudily colored valentine. Mrs. 
 Wiggles worth's countenance fell. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " she said, in a tone of disappointment, 
 "it's a valentine." 
 
 "That so?" answered her husband, blowing at his 
 coffee. " Who's fallen in love with you ? Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth and her latest mash. Guess I'll have to be 
 looking into matters." 
 
 " Ellery Wigglesworth," retorted his wife, severely, 
 "you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You know 
 very well that I wouldn't let anybody send me a 
 valentine." 
 
 " Ain't he done it ? " cried Mr. Wigglesworth, ap- 
 pealing to the sideboard. "Ain't she got it right 
 there in her hand ? " 
 
 348
 
 Got a Valentine 
 
 " It it's a comic valentine," sobbed Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, dashing it to the floor and applying her 
 napkin to her eyes ; " and I think it it is nothing 
 but an an insult, El Ellery Wigglesworth that 
 ought ought " 
 
 "Poh" interrupted Mr. Wigglesworth. "What's 
 the use to get so excited over a little thing like that ? 
 Can't ye stand a little fun ? " 
 
 "I I guess you you would n't like it," answered 
 his wife, dabbing at her eyes with the napkin. 
 
 " There, there, Emma," said Mr. Wigglesworth in 
 a lofty manner ; " don't go acting childish. I hope I 
 ain't quite a fool. When I get so I can't stand a little 
 fun I want some one to take and knock me in the 
 head. But that's just like a woman," he added, nod- 
 ding again at the sideboard, " they ain't got no more 
 idea of humor than a cow. Le's see that thing," he 
 commanded, reaching out his hand, " le's see the ter- 
 rible libel that has upset the digestion of the celebrated 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth." 
 
 His wife recovered it from the floor and passed it 
 across the table. 
 
 " H'm 1" said Mr. Wigglesworth, holding the val- 
 entine critically at arm's length, " I don't see any 
 thing the matter with this." 
 
 It was a dreadful mixture of red and yellow ink 
 setting forth an unwieldly looking individual in the 
 guise of a distorted hot-air balloon, and bearing be- 
 neath it some ill-rhymed verses addressed to " An Old 
 Wind Bag." 
 
 349
 
 Ho<w Wigglesworth 
 
 " He-he-he 1 " grinned Mr. Wigglesworth. 
 
 "I I think it's real mean in you to to laugh," 
 said his wife, renewing her sobs. 
 
 " What's the use to beller and take on that way ?" 
 cried Mr. Wigglesworth ; " can't ye stand a little fun ? " 
 
 "Not of that sort," replied Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 with spirit. "What right has anybody to call me an 
 ' Old Wind Bag 1 ' ' And her voice choked with 
 anger. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth chuckled. Really it was quite 
 humorous. 
 
 " And look at those lines," continued Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth : 
 
 " You puff and blow from morn to night 
 
 And keep your family in affright, 
 
 But as you swelling walk abroad 
 
 The neighbors know you are a fraud 
 
 " And all that that stuff 1 " exclaimed Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth, crying still harder. 
 
 " They're getting onto ye," he jeered. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me, Ellery Wigglesworth," 
 demanded his wife sternly, " that those horrid verses 
 describe me?" 
 
 " Why not ? " retorted Mr. Wigglesworth. " Don't 
 ye go getting on any high horse with me. Its just 
 them things that the neighbors are noticing in ye, 
 prob'ly, that's fetched out such a valentine. You 
 can't go on always in this way without people finding 
 it out." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth made a grab at the offending 
 valentine, but her husband caught it from her reach. 
 
 350
 
 Got a Valentine 
 
 It was too good a thing to have destroyed thus early. 
 So she snatched up the envelope instead, and would 
 have rent that in twain, but her eyes fell upon the 
 superscription, and she stopped in surprise. 
 
 "Why," she exclaimed, "it isn't for me at all!" 
 
 "Eh?" said Mr. Wigglesworth, looking up from 
 the valentine, the grin yet ornamenting his features. 
 
 " I thought," returned his wife, steadily regarding 
 the envelope, "that this said * Mrs. E. Wigglesworth.' " 
 
 " Well, it does, doesn't it ? " answered Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth. " What ye trying to act out ? " 
 
 "It says 'Mr. E. Wigglesworth,'" cried his wife, 
 breaking into smiles. " It is n't for me at all." And 
 she clapped her hands. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth snatched the envelope and glared 
 at it savagely. Then he dashed it into the gravy. 
 
 " I'm glad they didn't mean it for me," purred Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, her face wreathed in smiles, " but, oh, 
 Ellery he-he-he " 
 
 " He-he-he 1 " cackled Mr. Wigglesworth. " What's 
 the use to act like an idiot ? You think it smart, 
 don't ye, to go and git up a silly joke like that ? " 
 
 "Why" protested his wife, with a surprised air, "I 
 hope you don't think, Ellery 
 
 "It don't make any difference what I think," 
 stormed Mr. Wigglesworth from the front hall, what 
 time he was working into his overcoat. "I Ve done 
 nothing for all this year but slave around and support 
 you, and now when this gash-flummuxed old silly 
 valentine season comes around you take and work up
 
 Got a Valentine 
 
 an insult on me. You 're so mean that I would n't be 
 seen getting a divorce from ye." 
 
 " Why, Ellery," cried his wife, rushing toward the 
 hall. 
 
 " Yah-yah-yah ! " snarled Mr. Wigglesworth as he 
 slammed the front door. 
 
 353
 
 Chapter XXXIX 
 
 Ho e w Wigglesworth 
 Went to the Fire
 
 "'Where's the fire?' ejaculated Mr. Wigglesworth, puff- 
 ing violently, 'Wot fires' this?' the policeman calmly made 
 reply." Page 359-
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. How Wigglesworth 
 Went to the Fire 
 
 f~ "^HE cry of " Fire ! " heard in the still hours 
 
 at night smites the ear with startling 
 
 force, and sickens the hearts of property 
 
 owners. Apparently not appreciating 
 
 this fact, a bibulous gentleman, faring uncertainly 
 
 past the darkened house of Wigglesworth, lifted the 
 
 upper part of his head with a hiccoughing gesture 
 
 and projected his voice in a strident shriek : 
 
 " Fire ! " 
 
 He then whooped once or twice and disappeared 
 on the horizon. 
 
 " Ellery ! " cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, sitting up in 
 bed. 
 
 " Wummpmhm ? " Mr. Wigglesworth incoherently 
 answered. 
 
 "Get up get up at once!" called his wife, shak- 
 ing him violently ; "there's a fire ! " 
 
 With one bound the half-awakened Wigglesworth 
 was in the middle of the room clawing for his gar- 
 ments. 
 
 " What ye done with my clothes ? " he exclaimed, 
 waving his arms around in the darkness. 
 
 "They're on the chair, right where you left them," 
 responded Mrs. Wigglesworth, making the answer 
 that a wife always makes. " Oh, Ellery I Where do 
 you suppose it is ? " 
 
 355
 
 Ho*w Wigglesworth 
 
 "How do I know?" answered Mr. Wigglesworth 
 roughly. "I hung it right on the bedpost when I 
 undressed." 
 
 "I don't mean that," said Mrs. Wigglesworth. "I 
 mean the fire. Where do you think, Ellery ? " 
 
 "Where do I think?" repeated Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 impaling himself on a bayonet belonging to the 
 rocking-chair and lifting his voice into a shriek. 
 "Where does anybody think that knows anything? 
 Oh, my foot 1 my foot 1 " 
 
 "What ails your foot ? " asked Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 straining her eyes through the darkness. 
 
 "What ails it?" howled Mr. Wigglesworth, picking 
 up that poor, maimed member and hopping about the 
 room with it, "what ye s'pose? Think it's got the 
 measles, don't ye ? Who put that rocking-chair 'side 
 of my bed?" 
 
 " It is n't beside the bed," returned Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth earnestly ; " it's way over by the window." 
 
 " I know better 1 " yelled her husband. " I got right 
 out of bed and the very first thing it up and kicked 
 me oh, my foot my foot 1" And he swayed to 
 and fro, moaning. 
 
 "Can't you put something on it?" suggested Mrs. 
 Wigglesworth, in a voice of sympathy. 
 
 " Put something on it ? " snapped Mr. Wigglesworth 
 angrily; "ain't that what I've been trying to do? 
 Think I 'm going out barefooted ? Where ye hid my 
 stockings ? " 
 
 "They're on the bureau," said Mrs. Wigglesworth 
 
 356
 
 Went to the Fire 
 
 " What ye put 'em there for ? " growled Mr. Wig- 
 glesworth, and he crawled across the floor. Bringing 
 his head in contact with the washstand, he broke forth 
 afresh. 
 
 " Can't ye get out of bed and light that lamp? " he 
 cried. " Think I want to go prowling 'round here till 
 sunrise, knocking off things with my head ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, thus adjured, tottered with a 
 woman's unerring instinct to the bureau and broke 
 a lamp chimney. 
 
 "That's the way!" said her husband, fiercely. 
 " Put the pieces over here where I can step on em I " 
 
 "There's another one in the bathroom," Mrs. Wig- 
 glesworth replied. 
 
 When she got back with it and the lamp's rays 
 illumined the room, a scene of desolation was made 
 manifest. Mr. Wigglesworth had thrust himself into 
 a pair of bicycle trousers belonging to Willie, one 
 arm was invested in his wife's Spring cloak, and he 
 sat in the centre of a great array of debris which, by 
 the centripetal force of his hasty journeying, had been 
 gathered in the middle of the apartment. 
 
 "Oh, Elleryl" wailed Mrs. Wigglesworth, appalled 
 by the sight presented to her view ; " what have you 
 been doing?" 
 
 "What have I been doing? " repeated her husband, 
 looking himself over with strong disgust. " I 'd like 
 to have the answers to correspondent's man find out I 
 Whose trousers are these? " he yelled, noting the gar- 
 ment's extreme brevity. "What kind of a thing's 
 
 357
 
 How Wigglesworth 
 
 this ? " he added, plucking off the Spring cloak and 
 stamping on it. 
 
 " Why," said Mrs. Wigglesworth, "that is my cloak, 
 you know ; and those are Willie's bicycle trousers." 
 
 "Well!" exclaimed Mr. Wigglesworth, savagely, 
 "what ye got me dressed up in 'em for? " What ye 
 think it is, a masquerade ball?" 
 
 "I I was taking them up attic," meekly replied 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth, to put away for Winter, you 
 know. I only laid them on the bureau over night. 
 I don't see how you got them, way on the other side 
 of the room so." 
 
 " I tell ye they was right here on my chair ! " bullied 
 Mr. Wigglesworth, " just where I left my things when 
 I blew out the light. You changed 'em, that 's what 
 you did." 
 
 " How could I ?" protested his wife ; "you came to 
 bed last." 
 
 "That's it that's the way to argue 1" snarled 
 Mr. Wigglesworth ; " mean to say I did it pro'bly. 
 Got up in my sleep, likely, and went 'round changing 
 'em. Wigglesworth, the great sleep-walker. Re- 
 markable instance of somnanbulism. Substitutes a 
 pair of bicycle pants and appears in public. Going 
 to write it up for the papers, ain't ye ? " 
 
 Meantime he was shuffling out of the offending 
 regalia and gradually accumulating, with the assist- 
 ance of his wife, his accustomed wardrobe. The vest 
 was in the bathroom, the stockings on the bureau, 
 one of them having got involved with a comb, and 
 
 358
 
 Went to the Fire 
 
 his other shoe was produced, after much thoughtful 
 cogitation by Mrs. Wigglesworth, from the library, 
 where her husband had slipped it off early in the 
 evening for the relief of a familiar corn. 
 
 The slow movement of the types is not adequate 
 to express the hurried action which characterized 
 this vaudeville performance. Over all impended the 
 weird, uncertain knowledge that somewhere in town 
 valuable property perhaps Mr. Wigglesworth's own 
 was going up in flame and smoke. 
 
 " Get out ! " he cried, as his wife pressed a necktie 
 upon him. " What ye s 'pose I want that for ? " 
 
 " You have n't got any cuffs," pleaded Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 " Cuff s nothing 1 " snorted her husband ; "what ye 
 think it is, a Governor's reception? Think it's a 
 church social, with pie, don't ye ? " 
 
 "Hark!" exclaimed Mrs. Wigglesworth. "I 
 thought I heard the fire engines ! Is it the engines, 
 Ellery?" 
 
 "Course it is! " he replied, hurrying into his coat. 
 " Think it's an ice cream wagon this time of night ? 
 Get out the way, there 1 " 
 
 With a parting roar of excitement, Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth tore down the front stairs, and, with a whoop, 
 went clattering up the street. A policeman leaned 
 against a neighboring fence thinking. 
 
 "Where's the fire?" ejaculated Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 puffing violently. 
 
 "Wot fire's this?" the policeman calmly made 
 
 reply. 
 
 359
 
 Went to the Fire 
 
 When Mr. Wiggles worth had slowly remounted the 
 stairs his breath had in a measure come back to him. 
 
 " Is it out ? " anxiously queried his wife. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth silently snatched off his clothes 
 and got into bed. 
 
 " Where was it, Ellery ? " persisted Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth dashed both his fists into his 
 pillow, and for an instant the room lit up with a lurid 
 flash. 
 
 " Why, Ellery," sobbed Mrs. Wigglesworth, " I 
 should think you would be ashamed to use such 
 language." 
 
 360
 
 Chapter XL 
 
 Hcnv Wiggles t worth 
 Made Butter
 
 "Alexander, the cat, got upon a chair and watched Mr. 
 Wigglesworth as he poured the milk into the churn." Page 366
 
 CHAPTER XL. Ho<w Wigglesworth Made 
 Butter 
 
 YA-A-A-H!" said Mr. Wigglesworth, in a 
 great tone of disgust, " where'd ye get 
 that butter ? Must have come over in 
 the Mayflower and swum ashore itself." 
 
 " I know it," rejoined Mrs. Wiggleswort, helplessly, 
 as she poured the tea, " I never saw anything like it. 
 Our regular butter man has failed us, you know, and 
 this came from the market." 
 
 "Jail, you mean," retorted Mr. Wigglesworth, "I 
 heard something had broken out up there. What ye 
 want to put such grease on the table for, anyway? 
 Think I want my neck dislocated trying to swallow 
 that kind of stuff ? " 
 
 "I'm sure," pleaded Mrs. Wigglesworth, "I don't 
 see what I can do." 
 
 " Do !" echoed her husband in scorn, "what does 
 anybody do when they get such stuff on hand ? Give 
 it to the charitable association, don't they ? What's 
 the matter with feeding it to that lambrequin dog the 
 woman next door kisses before she goes to bed ? " 
 
 "Isn't it dreadful?" cried Mrs. Wigglesworth, 
 staying the tea pot in air ; " to think of kissing such 
 a horrid little brute." 
 
 " Why don't ye make your own butter? " pursued 
 her husband, gloomily jabbing open another biscuit 
 with his knife. 
 
 363
 
 Wiggles c worth 
 
 "Why, Ellery Wigglesworth !" exclaimed his wife 
 putting down the tea pot and looking aghast. 
 
 " I don't see," growled Mr. Wigglesworth, shaking 
 his head in an oracular manner, "what there is so 
 wonderful about that. When I was a boy mother 
 always used to make the butter. So did Mrs. Dodley. 
 Why I've helped the Dodley twins churn by the 
 hour. Me and Aleck Dodley was the best churners 
 in town," concluded Mr. Wigglesworth, boastfully. 
 
 "I wouldn't know the first thing to do," said his 
 wife ; "I'd be sure to slop the milk all over my dress. 
 I guess it would be better to buy the butter, Ellery." 
 
 "Oh, of course," sneered Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 "that's the way can't take a suggestion to save 
 money. That's Mrs. Wigglesworth all over rather 
 spend every cent her hushand could earn than to try 
 to practice a little economy just because he suggested 
 the way to do it. If I had your mean disposition," 
 Mr. Wigglesworth added bitterly as he flung away 
 from the table, " I'd want to go out in the woods and 
 die." 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth let fall a little tear or two and 
 then took the butter firmly in both hands and bore it 
 to the kitchen where it shortly afterwards fell off the 
 refrigerator and injured a spine belonging to the 
 family cat. 
 
 Concealed behind his paper Mr. Wigglesworth 
 found the butter question reverting to his mind with 
 much insistence. Visions of the Dodley twins and 
 the merry plunk-plunk of the dasher came to him, 
 
 364
 
 Made Butter 
 
 with all the hallowing association of boyhood's happy 
 time. Mr. Wiggles worth's eyes glistened. 
 
 "I'm going to run up to Mrs. Wetherbee's," his 
 wife said, appearing in the door. "I'll be back be- 
 fore be"dtime." 
 
 The human mind moves at times with extraordinary 
 swiftness. Mr. Wigglesworth possessed that kind of 
 a mind and no sooner was his wife out of hearing 
 than he rushed over to a woman next door and bor- 
 rowed a churn that she had stored away in a far 
 corner of the attic. 
 
 * "You are welcome to it," said the woman next 
 door, sweetly, "but I didn't know you were a butter 
 maker, Mr. Wigglesworth." 
 
 That gentleman grinned. 
 
 " Sh 1 " he said hoarsely, "I'm going to surprise my 
 wife. Oh, I've made thousands of pounds when I 
 was a boy. Don't say anything about it I'm going 
 to surprise my wife." 
 
 It was an old-fashioned blue churn with the dasher 
 projecting through a hole in the cover. Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth set it down on the kitchen floor and regarded 
 it with admiration. 
 
 " I'll show 'em how to make butter 1 " he cried, the 
 the light of a high purpose glowing in his face. 
 
 Then he looked into the refrigerator where several 
 pans of milk lay glistening in their virgin whiteness. 
 
 "That's the stuff 1" chuckled Mr. Wigglesworth 
 as he pulled forth the pans, their contents flopping 
 moistly against the tin sides and occasionally spring- 
 
 365
 
 Ho e w Wiggtesworth 
 
 ing over and making exclamation marks down Mr. 
 Wigglesworth's new navy blue trousers. 
 
 Alexander, the cat, got up in a chair and watched 
 Mr. Wigglesworth as he poured the milk into the 
 churn. Then he grasped the dasher and made, a sud- 
 den stroke that spirted a stream of milk into his shirt 
 front. Alexander did not understand the remark that 
 Mr. Wigglesworth gave utterance to, although he had 
 heard it before, but he had lived in the family long 
 enough to realize that this was a fitting moment to 
 get out of the chair and crawl under the cook-stove, 
 and he did so. 
 
 " Plunk-plunk 1 swash-swash 1 " went the dasher. 
 Mr. Wigglesworth smiled. How the exercise carried 
 him backward to those halcyon days. He could seem 
 to hear again the voice of Mrs. Dodley as she called 
 back the errant Aleck and harnessed him anew to 
 his task. 
 
 Time, pursuing a custom for which it has long been 
 celebrated, went on. Plunk-plunk 1 said the dasher. 
 Swash-swash I went the turblent contents of the 
 churn. Alexander gazed furtively from under the 
 stove but said nothing. 
 
 A number of globules of perspiration stepped out 
 on Mr. Wigglesworth's forehead and fell with a sharp 
 report to the floor. 
 
 "What ails the blamed old stuff?" he muttered as 
 he snatched off the cover and peered into the churn ; 
 "think I'm going to stand here poking away at this 
 old broom handle all night ? Why don't the butter 
 come if it's going to ? " 
 
 366
 
 Made Butter 
 
 There was no answer to this interrogation and Mr. 
 Wigglesworth, clapping on the cover, laid his blister- 
 ing hands again to the dasher. ' Plunk-plunk I it sang 
 monotonously on, while now and then a sharper stroke 
 than usual would spatter a cupful of milk into Mr. 
 Wigglesworth's countenance, and Alexander, listen- 
 ing, would shrink still farther under the stove. 
 
 The clock, which at first had stood still with as- 
 tonishment, now noticed that with each added quarter 
 hour the face of Mr. Wigglesworth took on a deeper 
 purple hue and his breath came in short pants. 
 Round and round the kitchen the wooded churn went 
 waltzing, impelled by the vigor of Mr. Wigglesworth's 
 remarks. 
 
 " Gash-flummux the miserable old watered milk ! " 
 he would yell, " why don't she harden if she's going 
 to ! Think's I'm a patent churn prob'ly, painted yaller I 
 Wigglesworth, the new-fashioned rotary churn. But- 
 ter made in four minutes. County rights for sale 
 cheap! " 
 
 And Mr. Wigglesworth's voice rose with each 
 violent stroke of the dasher till it ended in a shriek, 
 while his benumbed arms threatened to fall out at the 
 shoulder. 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth and the woman next door met 
 by the gate. 
 
 " I was coming over," said the woman next door, 
 with an innocent air, " to borrow some of Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth's butter ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth lifted a pair of astonished eye- 
 
 367
 
 HCKV Wigglesworth 
 
 brows and they hastened into the house. Nervously 
 she flung open the kitchen door. 
 
 " That's the stuff I " Mr. Wigglesworth was scream- 
 ing, apostrophizing the churn and mashing it with 
 great violence against the stove; "that's the way to 
 make butter without straws 1" and he whirled the 
 churn suddenly about and rammed into the set tubs 
 with it ; "butter of all kinds constantly on hand 1 " he 
 shouted, kicking the churn with both feet while the 
 procession was revolving on its axis ; " hand-made 
 butter furnished for summer resorts I " he shrieked 
 as the heavily loaded churn nipped him against the 
 refrigerator with great violence, and then with a con- 
 cluding yell of rage he gripped the dasher and flung 
 the churn aloft, when the cover pulled out and the 
 milk with a cool gesture emptied itself over the top of 
 Mr. Wigglesworth's bald organ of thought. 
 
 "Why, Ellery!" cried his wife, standing horror- 
 stricken, while the woman next door peered fascinat- 
 edly over her shoulder, 
 
 " Don't you Ellery me ! " shouted Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 shaking his dripping fists. " Next time you get me 
 to make your gash-flummuxed old butter you'll know 
 it." 
 
 The woman next door whispered in Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth's ear. 
 
 "Ellery," said that lady, "where did you get your 
 milk?" 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth glared at her fearfully. 
 
 " Get it ? " he sneered, " got it out of the refriger- 
 
 368
 
 Made Butter 
 
 ator, of course. Where d'ye s'pose ? Think I got it 
 out of the pump, pro'bly ? Reckon it was sent by 
 mail postpaid on receipt of price, don't ye ? " 
 
 Mrs. Wigglesworth laughed. 
 
 "That was skim milk," she said, with an air of 
 importance ; "you ought to have had cream." 
 
 Mr. Wigglesworth dashed up stairs to the bathroom 
 and for half an hour the thunder of his observations 
 reverberated through the house. 
 
 "Good night," said the woman next door with 
 great sweetness as she took leave of Mrs. Wiggles- 
 worth. " I can let you have a ball of butter in the 
 morning if you are out." 
 
 Gradually the sound of Mr. Wigglesworth died 
 away, while Alexander, laughing to himself in a soft 
 manner, stole out from the stove and lapped con- 
 tentedly at the milky way until morning. 
 
 369
 
 IX SOUTHERN REGIONAL UBHARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000128159 1