oice as his serious feelings
on the subject would enable him to assume.

Mrs. Uhler's face flushed instantly, and she answered, with dignity:

"I _am_ sure, Mr. Uhler."

It was the first time, in speaking to her husband, that she had said
"Mr. Uhler," in her life the first time she had ever looked at him
with so steady and defiant an aspect.

Now, we cannot say how most men would have acted under similar
circumstances; we can only record what Mr. Uhler said and did:

"And I am _not_ sure, Mrs. Uhler," was his prompt, impulsive reply,
drawing himself up, and looking somewhat sternly at his better half.

"You are not?" said Mrs. Uhler; and she compressed her lips tightly.

"I am not," was the emphatic response.

"And what do you expect me to do, pray?" came next from the lady's
lips.

"Do as I do in my business," answered the gentleman. "Have competent
assistance, or see that things are done right yourself."

"Go into the kitchen and cook the dinner, you mean, I suppose?"

"You can put my meaning into any form of words you please, Barbara.
You have charge of this household, and it is your place to see that
everything due to the health and comfort of its inmates is properly
cared for. If those to whom you delegate so important a part of
domestic economy as the preparation of food, are ignorant or
careless, surely it is your duty to go into the kitchen daily, and
see that it is properly done. I never trust wholly to any individual
in my employment. There is no department of the business to which I
do not give personal attention. Were I to do so my customers would
pay little regard to excuses about ignorant workmen and careless
clerks. They would soon seek their goods in another and better
conducted establishment."

"Perhaps you had better seek your dinners elsewhere, if they are so
little to your fancy at home."

This was the cool, defiant reply of the outraged Mrs. Uhler.

Alas, for Mr. Herman Uhler; he had, so far as his wife was
concerned, committed the unpardonable sin; and the consequences
visited upon his transgression were so overwhelming that he gave up
the struggle in despair. Contention with such an antagonist, he saw,
from the instinct of self-preservation, would be utterly disastrous.
While little was to be gained, everything was in danger of being
lost.

"I have nothing more to say," was his repeated answer to the running
fire which his wife kept up against him for a long time. "You are
mist