e a woman, if she be
wise, will be constantly prepared for the return of her husband. He,
after all, is the bread-winner; and all that he requires is an attention
less by far than we should ordinarily pay to a guest. In the good old
Scotch song, which thrills our heart every time it is sung, and makes us
remember, however skeptical we may have grown, the true worth and
divinity of love, the wife's greatest pleasure is that of looking
forward to the return of her husband. She puts on-her best clothes and
her sweetest smile; she clothes her face with that fondness which only a
wife's look can express; she makes her children look neat and
pretty--"gi'es little Kate her cotton gown, and Jock his Sunday coat"
because the husband is returning. There is not a prettier picture
throughout the whole range of literature. How her love breathes forth--

"Sae sweet his voice, sae smooth his tongue;
His breath like caller air;
His very foot has music in 't
As he comes up the stair."

And the love which thus colors with its radiant tints the common things
of this life, which makes poverty beautiful, and the cottage richer than
the palace, will be sure to teach the heart which possesses it how to
manage the husband.

In "managing a man"--an important lesson, which some women are very
anxious to impress upon others--immense tact and delicacy are wanted,
but are very seldom found. Wives should remember that they had better,
very much better, never try to manage, than try and not succeed. And yet
all men like to be managed, and require management. No one can pretend
to be the be-all and end-all in a house. It is from his wife that the
husband should learn the true value of things--his own dignity, his
position, and even his secondary position by her side as manageress.
But, if she be wise, she will not make this too apparent. Directly the
voice gets too loud, the tone too commanding, and the manner too fussy,
the unhappy man begins to suspect that he is being "managed," and in
nine cases out of ten sinks into utter imbecility, or breaks away like
an obstinate pig. Both these symptoms are bad, and perhaps the first is
the worst. No true woman can love and reverence a man who is morally and
intellectually lower than herself, and who has driveled down into a mere
assenting puppet. On the other hand, the pig-headed husband is very
troublesome. He requires the greatest care; for whatever his wife says
he will refuse to d