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The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 28a

              Here�s a delightfully
�Doestickian� example of
Mort Thomson�s �using up�
his father, mother and poor
�Chips�� baby, in a humorous
article published in last week�s
�Mercury,� and affording a
glimpse at the Thomsonian
household through a distorting
glass of a thousand lens power.
  I wonder whether he will
be able to refrain from writing
a �comic� account of his coming
bridal night.

[newspaper clipping]
  Every man with a wife, who has ever had
the fortune to provoke that helpmate to the
extent of downright ill-temper, knows that
what I say is true.  When lovely woman gets
(I humbly beg her pardon) ugly; or becomes
(I crave her gracious mercy) crabbed; or is
taken with a fit of (I kneel for absolution and
forgiveness) snappish, uncourteous, and rude;
or chances to be seized with an attack of (I
prostrate and humiliate myself in the hope of
grace and pardon) ill-tempered, churlish, un-
gracious, morose, bearish sulkiness, then that
lovely woman aforesaid can give you an ex-
pression of her opinion through the medium
of a coffee-pot, gridiron, or sauce-pan, that
goes straighter to the heart than any word
she could speak.
  And grandmothers can do it, too.  Burnt
steak, weak coffee, smoked toast, and scorch-
ed omelettes, have a language, at the break-
fast-table, that appeals to every individual
one of the Lords of Creation, who are the
veriest slaves.
  Ha, ha!  Grandmother-in-chief of my
Trumps, my baby, did you fondly imagine
that I don�t comprehend the language of the
gridiron, that I can�t understand the idiom
of the frying-pan, and that the dialects of the
pot, the kettle, the oven, and the toasting-
fork, are to me unknown tongues?
  Why have I had no button on a shirt for
a fortnight?  Why have my socks always
had huge holes therein, so that if any par-
ticular toe had been a dissipated toe, and had
chosen to steal away on a midnight spree, in
the reprehensible company of other fast and
frolicsome toes, that toe could have departed
from his home�the enveloping sock�have
gone off on his midnight surreptitious spree,
and come in without a latch-key, at the most
disreputable hour of the night, through the
hole that you, O blameful lady! left undarn-               
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