John's Wife.

" Why don ' t you do it yourself ? " " Because I do not like washing windows and scrubbing doorsteps , " calmly responded the bride . " My mother did her own work , " curtly remarked the doctor . " But I am not your mother . " Mrs . John ' s feminine spirit was evidently becoming aroused .

" No , " said Dr . Moreland , " you are one of the women of the period , You prefer to sit with folded hands , ivhile your husband toils his life out trying to scrape together a little money . " " You are mistaken there , Dr . Moreland , " said the bride . " I may be one of the women of the period—in fact , 1 rather glory in the title—but I am also one of those who firmlbelieve that husband and wife should share alike the

y burdens of life as well as its pleasures . " " Humph ! " said Dr . Moreland , and if ever monosyllable expressed a whole dictionary full of obnoxious epithets , it was that " Humph ! " "You write poetry , don't you ? " " Yes , " said Mrs . John , not ivithout a certain defiance in her tone , " I write poetry . "

" Let me give you a piece of advice , said Dr . Moreland , with hands in his pockets and nose in the air . " Just burn all your pens aud paper , roll up your sleei'es , and go to work . That ' s the only way to get ahead in this world . " " Do you think so ? " said Mrs . John . " Yes , I think so , " said Dr . Moreland . " I am very sorry not to agree Avith you" said Mrs . John" but I take a

, , different vievr of things . " " Oh , very well , " said Dr . Moreland , rising in high dudgeon . " Think as you please . This is a free country—quite free . " " Won't you stay and take lunch with us , Uncle Moreland ? " asked the bride soothingly .

"No , I thank you , " said Dr . Moreland . " But there ' s one thing I want to impress upon your mind , and perhaps it would be as well for you to mention it to John , too . " " What is it , uncle ? " " Just this : that if you come to want— -when you come to want would , perhaps , be a more correct expression—you don ' t come to me for aid . I wash my hands of you and your poetry . " Mrs . John smiled .

" I assure you , uncle , " said she , " we' never had the least idea of becoming pensioners on your bounty . " " Perhaps you had , perhaps you had not , " said Dr . Moreland , catching up his hat . " I wish you a very good morning . " Ancl he descended the stairway two steps at a time , ancl shook the dust of the offending household off his feet . Scarcely three months afterwards poor little Keziah came in with a very

red nose and swollen eyelids to tell Uncle Moreland that John was dead . " Dead , is he F " said Dr . Moreland . " I said when he married that poetrywriting girl , that he had committed the last blunder that he could be capable of , but it seems I was mistaken . He could die and leave her on our hands . " " Oh , Uncle Moreland ! " sniffed little Keziah between her tears . "Don ' t be a fool , " said Dr . Moreland . "I liked John as well as you did ,

but he wore my patience out . And I am sorry that he must needs go and die , and put us to the expense of a funeral . " "What is to become of John ' s ivife ? " faltered Keziah timidly . " I don't know , that ' s not any of my business , " said he . It was scarcely a month after poor John ' s remains were laid in Greenlawn cemetery when Dr . Moreland received a black-edged note . " From John ' s wife , " said he , contracting his brows . " I wonder what she has got to say to me after all my warnings ? "