"
_Turn About is Fair Play_
Last Christmas a middle-aged tinplate-worker married a widow whose
acquaintance he had made but a few weeks before while working some
little distance away from home.
"Sarrah," he said nervously, after the guests had departed, "I 'ave a
weddin' present for ye."
"What is it, John?" said Sarrah with a smirk.
"I 'ope ye won't be 'fended, Sarrah," said John, more agitated than
ever, "but it is--er--er--it is five of 'em."
"Five of wat?" asked Sarrah.
"Five children!" blurted out John desperately, anticipating a scene.
"I didn't tell ye I 'ad children--five of 'em."
Sarrah took the news quite calmly; in fact, she appeared relieved.
"Oh, well, John," she said, "that do make it easier for me to tell ye.
Five is not so bad as me, watever. Seven I 'ave got!"
"Wat!" howled John.
"Seven," repeated Sarrah composedly. "That is my weddin' present to
ye, John."
_His Only Chance_
"Is there a man in all this audience," demanded the female lecturer on
woman's rights, "that has ever done anything to lighten the burden on
his wife's shoulders? What do you know of woman's work? Is there a
man here," she continued, folding her arms, and looking over the
assembly with superb scorn, "that has ever got up in the morning,
leaving his tired, worn-out wife to enjoy her slumbers, gone quietly
downstairs, made the fire, cooked his own breakfast, sewed the missing
buttons on the children's clothes, darned the family stockings,
scoured the pots and kettles, cleaned and filled the lamps, and done
all this, if necessary, day after day, uncomplainingly? If there be
such a man in this audience let him rise up! I should really like to
see him!"
And, in the rear of the hall, a mild-looking man in spectacles, in
obedience to the summons, timidly arose.
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