A BAD CASE.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXI, Issue 449, 16 January 1909, Page 4

A BAD CASE.

B; By a Distressed Wife. S My husband is at last convinced I of the error of his ways, and has I implored me to give his free and ? frank" confession to the world. My husband is, or was, a very enthusiastic man, and imagines that he has a fine eye for the arts. Being a lawyer be enjoys considerable leisure in the afternoons, and it is this that has proved his ruin. I shall never forget his first offence. It • Was very portly after our marriage. I was wondering why he / was, so late for dinner, when sud- - ’ denly a cab drove up to the door. • ■ For one moment I fancied that it

£ must be his mother (wives have w their jnothers-in-law as well as husbands). Imagine my astonishment when out jumps my husband, with a guilty jauntiness of demeanour, presents the cabby with five shillings (I noted this extravagance myself from the window), and is * followed by that functionary, staggering under an enormous burden, swathed in brown holland, up the steps. The. usual loafer rushes

forward, and a fresh gratuity is > distributed, to the horror of my - economical mind. At last the

thing, apparently a miniature of the great pyramid, is deposited in our small hall with a resonant bang, and its bearers depart. - “ What on earth makes you so very unpunctual, dear ? The soup will be quite spoiled. And what . in heaven’s name is this ?”

_ “ I thought you’d like it, darling (this with a nervous flush). It’s the most wonderful bargain, arid it have been really wicked to let it slip. It’s a genuine Elizabethan —but, there, see it tor yourself,” f The mummy-like bandages were at last removed, and what do you think r I beheld ? An enormous rusty, musty, dusty and hideous clock! “ Yes,” he continued ; “ a real, .antique, Elizabethan, musical r clock. It plays six tunes of the period ,; and what’s more, look at f the initials graven on the face— *W. S.’ I’ve very little doubt that '"T it once belonged to Shakespeare himself, who was very fond of mechanical inventions. I shall | have, of course, to have it repaired t - aind done up, and then it will look K splendid in the dining-room.” 5 - He quite took my breath away, r I qould only ejaculate, “ Where on earth did you pick it up, and what did you pay for it ?” / “At the sale of an o’d house

Everyone said it was ridiculously cheap, and that they’d have given < twice as much if only they had i known. Just think, only a hundred dollars ! Why, I could get two hundred for it any day.” r' White elephants were nothing to this disgusting “horologe,” as I found it described in the catalogue. It cost twenty dollars to put right, and then it smashed twenty dollars' worth of things in being fixed up. It sometimes ; played its miserable so-called tunes # so rapidly that you had to stuff your fingers in your ears; at others it emitted a spasmodic and raven-like croak that was positively alarming. At last, thank heaven,

c' it stopped—‘ ‘ never to go again ”; jlgjidJ firmly resolved that not one penny more should be spent in “ doing it (and us) up.” Add to

this that I subsequently discovered

a Geneva maker’s name inside. I , could wish that I had been more stern on this first occasion ; but I was weak, like too many young wives and was satisfied with a scolding. The result was that we became gradually, deluged with the most miserable miscellany of rubbishy bric-a-brac, damaged furni-

ture, dubious pictures* and, iu a

word, the refuse of the auctions'v room. To believe my, husband, r we were the proud possessors of f Cromwell’s hat, Byron’s tooth- !;- brush, one of Sheridan’s 1.0.U.’5, a curl of Marie Antoinette’s, a Ru- ": bens, a Rembrandt, a George Mor- . land (I believe this latter is the evil genius of the Picker-up), and a

whole roomfull of split and useless “ Chippendale ” apd “ Sheraton,” etc. And all ha/I been acquired at “ sales which had a history,” at an “ absurd sacrifice,” and to the admiration of the disappointed bystanders. I saw that the fiendish habit was gradually growing upon him, like drink or gaming. I hope I know my duty ; I resolved to protect myself and him; and, after an awtul scene ensuing on his acquisition of an infected sedan-chair, I exacted from him a solemn pledge to give up this pernicious habit for once and for ever.

But I was inexperienced ; I should have known the male mind better. Deterred from the open pursuit ot his nefarious designs, he determined to smuggle his purchases in secret. I had observed him. lingering somewhat suspiciously over the auction advertisements of the dailies, and I noticed also that his coat-pockets bulged out suspiciously on his nightly return. One day I had occasion to tidy (as a good wife should periodically do) the escritoire of his dressing room. What do you think I found ? The drawers, the pigeonholes, the interstices even, were literally crammed with heaps of cracked and tarnished articles—pouncet boxes, enamelled knife handles, embossed watch cases, pocket revolvers, and the like. I was horrified. It was too true. Debarred by the dread of discovery from “picking up” big things, he had resorted, under a miserable subterfuge, to small. But my presence of mind did not desert me. I have a strong will; and I vowed that our child’s inheritance should not be thus squandered. My husband kept a handsome volume in which he recorded minutely a description, the prices, and the dates of his purchase of this miscellaneous collection. My mind was made up. I numbered and ticketed every one of these horrible knickknacks with my own hands. I compiled their catalogue, and I headed it as follows: —“ Messrs Hammer and Tongs have the honour to announce that on Thursday next they will sell by Auction in their great rooms in Blank street, the valuable collection of pictures, porcelain, furniture in the Sheraton, Adams, and Chippendale styles, arms, Limoges enamel, quaint watches and clocks, formed with a cousumate taste and at lavish expense by a gentleman who has no further need for them.”

I myself arranged with the auctioneers, who, with some amplifications, adopted my catalogue, and a day was chosen when my husband was at last occupied (I believed remuneratively) in court. Well, the time came. I was so excited that, although sorely tempted to be present, I did not dare to attend the “ Rooms ” of Messrs Hammer and Tongs, The evening came, and with it my husband, in a frantic state of exhiliratiou. “ You’ve won the case !” I exclaimed, fondly and admiringly. “Oh, never mind the case !” he rejoined, impetuously; “it was settled and I got away early. Having made the money. I turned in now don’t be angry darling—for a moment to Hammer and Tongs —most exciting sale of an eminent virtuoso’s curios, and you’ll admit tnat, after all, my judgment was not so bad ; for it was an exact replea of my own—thing for thing, and picture for picture, only that his Rembrandt and Rubens were poor copies and his George Morlaud evidently spurious. The whole lot were going for a perfect song, so I ” “Good heavens !” I ejaculated ; “ you don’t mean to say that you bought your own ” But at this crisis a merciful film came over my eyes, and I swooned away.

My husband is completely cured and we are gradually now trying to collect modern coins, which we pick up elsewhere than in sale rooms.—-St. James’ Gazette.