“Do you not require that I should know all peculiarities about your furniture?” I ask it.
“Absolutely everything,” she outcry.
“All well then,” I renig. “There is something I wish to know what. In recent conversation which I overheard accidently while standing at key-hole, I hear you speak about one article of furniture which I am not familiar of. By the way you describe it, it sets in parlour like piano until it begins smoking like a stove; then you move it to library where it holds baby like a cradle and supports newspapers like a table! When you set it anywheres it moves nervusly from room to room, dropping dust like a elephant. It is a failure at everything around the house, yet you say so that no home is complete without one. What kind of a conundrum are you talking about, please?”
“My husband,” report Mrs. Fillups as she elope away.
This husband belonging to Mrs. Fillups are quite a large gentleman. I are not sure if husbands comes in regular sizes, but I should think Hon. Fillups was about size 46. It are deliciously difficult to housekeep him.
Mrs. Fillups spend all day-long cleaning up after his departure and preparing for his next visitation. Her favourite pet name for him is “Don’t.”
When he encroach home by evening train she meets him on door-mat with cheerful smiling. Yet she has got her watch eye open for his uncivilised ways.
“Don’t track snow on rug, dearie, Don’t wear rubbers in house, DON’T leave them on front steps like a tenement.” Hon. Fillups are one of those husbands which begins to obey orders after the damage is done.
“Darling, don’t leave it on sofa,” she report when he remove off hat & coat. “Don’t lay cigars on mahogany table & DON’T whistle in house.”