Painting the Kitchen Wall.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 227, 5 November 1887, Page 7

Painting the Kitchen Wall.

My love, I think I will paint the kitchen walls and ceiling, instead of having them white-washed/ and Mr Stiggins one morning. ' Will you do it yourself?' meekly asked his wife. ' Do it myself 1 Who else do you suppose will do ii, Mis Stiggins? Have you an idea that money grows on every bush ? You should have married a millionaire, madam !' ' Well, dear, I shall be glad to have the work done, only I was not aware that you could paint' ' Not paint, Mrs Stiggins ! If there is a time when I arise to sublimity, it is when I paint' and Mr S. waxes eloquent over his many wonderful feats with the biush. 1 What colour will it be ?' inquired his better-half, more to stop the flow of reminiscence than from any real desire to know the exact ' tint' the wall would present to her view three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. Any colour to suit you, my love. I am doing this for your pleasure entirely, so it must exactly suit your taste.' ' Oh, thank you, how kind ! I think, as I am to have my choice, I will say drab.' 'Altogether too daik, Hanner, too daik ; everything around me must be light and joyous, my dear.' ' Well, then, how will a light stone suit you ?' ' You are the one to be suited, my ! dear ; but it does seem to me that the j light stone boaidcrs too much on the j yellow.' ' Suppose we have a light slate ; surely that must suit you.' 1 Mrs Stiggins, I have repeatedly told you that my taste was not to be consulted on this occasion ; but, surely now, you must see that the slate is too dark again. Now French grey is a lovely shade — just the thing !' ' Oh, Alexander, it will show every spot !' ' Every spot ! Why need there be . any spots ? Hanner, you are the most disagreeable creature. Here I try my best to please you, but in vain. I desist, Mr. Stiggins. The plaguey kitchen may remain as it is.' ' No, no, dear ; we will certainly have the French grey if it pleases you.' ' There you are again ! If you please, Mrs Stigggins, remember this is pot for my pleasure, as I have reneatedly stated. However, we will pass that by, and as you have finally decided that French grey is the shade you prefer, I will procure the paint this evening, and do the job directly. Now I think a four-pound can will cover it.' ' Perhaps it would do for a first coat.' ' A first coat ! Do you think I intend putting on more than one coat ? What a wild imagination you have !' with withering scorn. • I think it will take more than one coat. Paint sinks into plaster,' slowly responded Mrs Stiggins. J I would like to know what you know about paint ? One coat will be sufficient, I am sure.' Mrs S. says no more. Mr S. disappears, and at six p.m. arrives with paint-pot and brush. ' Behold the conquering hero comes ! Now, Hanner, you will soon see your kitchen shine like the son. Two hours from now you'll not know the place.' ' Two hours, Alexander J Surely, you don't imagine that you can finish the job in that time ! Impossible !' ' Jumping at conclusions again. I certainly can and will. Your husband is no slouch, as you soon shall see.' Mrs S., having removed the kitchen furniture, Mr S. proceeded, with great flourish of tongue and brush, to spread on the paint. Soon, however, sflence reigns in the kitchen, save from the ' swish, swash ' of the brush. After half an hour of silent work, Mrs S, bears mutterings, not loud, out deep, and expressions anything but heavenly, proceeding from the lips of her beloved, and thinks she will reconnoitre the premises, At the threshold she pauses. ' How are you progressing, my dear ? ' ' Well, hardly as well as I expected to. Just step here.' Mrs Stiggins advances, and as she gazes upon the wall, streaked with paint, and marks of the brush running < six ways for Sunday,' she is unable to repress the smile which ripples from ear to ear and dies away in the recesses of her back hair. ' Don't stand there grinning like an idiot ; speak, can't you ? What do you think of it? ' 1 Well, my dear, I think it looks very much like a cross-eyed cat caught in a rain storm,' replies his wife, too much amused to fear the consequence of her rash remark. ' Hanner, will you leave the room ? You are the most outrageously exasperating woman I ever met.' Mrs. S. does as bidden, and proceeds to prepare the two older children for bed, with baby fretting in her arms. Soon, after various tussles with Nat, the boy (and such a boy !) the twain are laid away with heavenly smiles upon ' their faces, which totally belie the antics of the day. The baby is attended to, and Mrs. Stiggins begins her lullaby song, when faintly from the kitchen comes the sound of a voice : ( Mrs. Stiggins !' No apswer. ' Hanner !' No answer. 'My dear !' Still no answer. ' My love 1' • What is it, Mr. Stiggins ?' i

1 Step here for a moment.' ' I thought I wasn't ' Mrs. S., will you be good enough to come here ?' Mrs. S. makes her appearance without further comment. ' You will have to go to the store for ! me. I find four pounds of paint will not cover this dratted wall.' ' I thought four pounds ' ' Who asked you what you thought ? I asked you if you would get me some more paint !' 1 Oh, Alexandra, baby is so sleepy ; I can't go now.' ' Pat her in the cradle, and let her howl ; it will do her good.' 'No, I cannot. She will cry heiself sick, Can't I put her asleep first ? I won't be long.' c V^es, put her to sleep, do ; it makes no difference to me ! I am of no more consequence in this house than a knot in a Jog.' Mrs Stiggins hushes the baby to sleep, procuies the paint, and returns long before her liege lord is in need of it, and waits impatiently the completion of the job. Ten o'clock — then eleven strikes. She once more presents herself at the door. 'Almost through, dear? It's aftei eleven.' 4 No, I am not almost through, dear ! There's another hour's work on the humbugging thing ! I wish you and kitchen were further !' ' Well, I certainly wish I were in bed. I thought you were going to do this in two hours.' ' You are always thinking, Mrs Stiggins, but never to any purpose. Go to bed — anywhere out of my sight ! You are an unmitigated idiot !' Mrs S. retires. Stiggins never finished the job, and vows he never v. ill.