able happy as a king and his queen. I don't s'pose queens
make a practice of steepin' tea, but mebby they would be better off if
they did--and have better appetites and better tea. Any way we felt
well, and the supper tasted good. And though Josiah squirmed some when I
told him Lodema wuz approachin' and would be there that very night or
the next day--still the cloud wore away and melted off in the glowin'
mellowness of the hot tea and cream, the delicious oysters and other
good things.

[Illustration: "MY PARDNER ENJOYS GOOD VITTLES."]

My pardner, though, as he often says, is not a epicack, still he duz
enjoy good vittles dretful well and appreciates 'em. And I make a stiddy
practice of doin' the best I can by him in this direction.

And if more females would foller on and cipher out this simple rule, and
get the correct answer to it, the cramp in the right hands of divorce
lawyers would almost entirely disappear.

For truly it seems that _no_ human man _could be_ more worrysome, and
curius, and hard to get along with than Josiah Allen is at times; still,
by stiddy keepin' of my table set out with good vittles from day to day,
and year to year, the golden cord of affection has bound him to me by
ties that can't never be broken into.

He worships me! And the better vittles I get, the more he thinks on me.
For love, however true and deep it is, is still a tumultous sea; it has
its high tides, and its low ones, its whirlpools, and its calms.

He loves me a good deal better some days than he does others; I see it
in his mean. And mark you! mark it well, female reader, these days are
the ones that I cook up sights and sights of good food, and with a
cheerful countenance and clean apron, set it before him in a bright
room, on a snowy table-cloth!

Great--great is the mystery of men's love.

I have often and often repeated this simple fact and truth that
underlies married life, and believe me, dear married sisters, too much
cannot be said about it, by those whose hearts beat for the good of
female and male humanity--and it _cannot_ be too closely followed up and
practised by female pardners.

But I am a-eppisodin'; and to resoom.

Wall, Lodema Trumble arrove the next mornin' bright and early--I mean
the mornin' wuz bright, not Lodema--oh no, fur from it; Lodema is never
bright and cheerful--she is the opposite and reverse always.

She is a old maiden. I do think it sounds so much more respectful to
call 'em so r