oked at it.
Every time she took a bath she shuddered twice.

One evening while reading _The Ladies' Home Journal_, she came across
the heading--"How to Enamel a Tin Bath Tub." "Ah ha! At last!" She read
the article; then she read it again; it was simple enough; she could do
it; she knew she could. And she also knew that if it was done, she would
_have_ to do it; for Hubbie didn't have the Artistic Temperament worth a
cent. He wouldn't have cared if the bath tub was made of old rubber
boots; he didn't use it much anyway.

So the next morning she took the clipping from the paper down to the
paint store, bought a can of enamel, a bottle of varnish and a paint
brush, and after dinner went after that bath tub. First she scrubbed it
thoroughly; then she dried it; and then she put on the white enamel; a
good job too. But as she stood back and looked at it, it did not quite
fill the bill; it was rather thin; the tin showed through in spots.
Well, if one coat was good, two coats ought to be better; so she went
back and put on another coat. It was a great improvement; wonderful, in
fact; a third coat would make it look like the finest marble; so on went
a third coat.

The next thing, according to the printed directions, was the coat of
varnish. Now the man that wrote those directions probably took it for
granted that any one using them would know enough to let one coat dry
before putting on another; so he did not mention that fact in his
directions. And so now, according to directions, our lady friend, not
content with putting on three coats of enamel, all at one sitting,
proceeded to put on the coat of varnish.

The directions then were to fill the bath tub with cold water and let it
set for twenty-four hours.

As this was on a Wednesday, and of course there could be no use for the
tub before Saturday, she let the water set until that time, in order to
let the paint get "set" good and firm.

Saturday night she went in and let the water out and after admiring the
white and gleaming tub for awhile she proceeded to take her bath.
Usually, on account of her hatred for the old tin tub, she made this
ceremony as short as possible; but to-night, sitting there in this
beautiful white tub, she lingered; she could almost close her eyes and
imagine herself Cleopatra reclining in her alabaster bath, waited on by
slaves; she reached up and got a bottle of perfume from a shelf over her
head and perfumed the waters. And she decided that