if I have given my all, and must be
replenished before I can make another move. I once had a housekeeper
whose very face I dreaded at such times. She always took advantage of my
silence and my limp condition, to relate the day's disasters. She had no
knowledge of what a good dinner meant, and no tact in falling in with my
tastes or needs. On the contrary; if there was a dish I disliked, it was
sure to appear on those most weary evenings. In brief, from the very
moment I reached home, she did nothing but brush my fur up, instead of
down, and I did nothing but spit at her.

Now, many women are like this housekeeper. I wonder their husbands don't
slay them. If you would look out in my back yard, I fear you would see
the bones of several of these tactless, exasperating housekeepers,
bleaching in the wind and rain.

I marvel that other back yards are not filled with the bones of stupid,
tactless, irritating wives. The fact that no such horror has as yet been
unearthed, bears eloquent testimony to the noble self-control and
patience of many of the sterner sex.

"Oh, that sounds well," said my neighbor, over the way, "but then you
forget we women have our trials too."

"Is it going to diminish those trials to make a raging lion out of your
husband?"

"No, but he ought to understand that we are tired, and that our work is
hard."

"Certainly," I said, "by all means; and by the time he thoroughly
understands, you generally have occasion to be still more tired."

"Well, what would you do?"

"I'll tell you what I'd do; follow the advice of a sensible little
friend of mine, who has four children all of an age, and has
incompetent service to rely on, when she has any at all."

"And what is that, pray?"

"She says that come rain, hail, or fiery vapor, she takes a nap every
day."

"I don't know how she manages it; I can't, and I have one less child
than she, and a fairly good maid."

"Her children are trained, as children should be; the three younger ones
take long naps after luncheon, and while they are sleeping, she gives
the oldest child some picture book to look at, and simple stories to
read, and she herself goes to sleep in the same room with him. The
little fellow keeps as still as a mouse."

"I think that is a cruel shame."

"So do I. It would be far kinder if she let him have his liberty, and
stayed up to take care of him, and then became so tired out that, by the
time her husband came home she would be una