AN ÆSTHETIC WIFE.
“ Say, I’ll tell you something if you won’t blow it,” was the way one man saluted another on Twelfth street yesterday. “All right—go ahead.” “ You won’t give it away until I say so ?” “ Not a word.” “ Well, my wife has got to be an tcsthetio.” “No?”
“ Sure’s you’r born. I have suspected that she was working that way for some time past but it’s only within a day or two that I became positive.” “ Well, that’s wonderful. Say, how does she act ?”
“ Languid—very languid. She lops around, drawls her words, writes sad poetry, and the sight of an old pie-tin or a banged up ohromo entrances her. Congratulate me on my luck.” “ I do—l do. That is—” “ What ?”
“Don’t build hopes too fast. Be sure you are right and then go ahead, I labored for a whole year under the delusion that my wife was developing as on icsthetic, and when I came to talk with her father he said she was always more than half idiot by nature. Go slow—go slow. The difference between on esthetic and a fool is so mighty small that you can’t afford to make a mistake and be placed in a box.
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Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2369, 5 November 1881, Page 3
Word Count
201AN ÆSTHETIC WIFE. Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2369, 5 November 1881, Page 3
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