into the house. He was looking pale and ghastly, and his chin quivered and his knees wobbled.

"What is it, Mr. Bowser?" she exclaimed, as she met him at the door.

"Bed-doctor-death!" he gasped in reply.

Mrs. Bowser got him to bed and examined him for bullet holes or knife wounds. There were none. He had no broken limbs. He hadn't fallen off a horse or been half drowned. When she had satisfied herself on these points, she asked: "How were you taken?”

"W-with a c-chill!" he gasped-"with a c-chill and a b-backache!"

"I thought so. Mr. Bowser, you have the grip-a second attack. As I have some medicine left, there's no need to send for the doctor. I'll have you all right in a day or two."

"Get the doctor at once," wailed Mr. Bowser, "or I'm a dead man! Such a backache! So cold! Mrs. Bowser, if I should d-die, I hope"

Emotion overcame Mr. Bowser, and he could say no more. The doctor came and pronounced it a second attack of grip, but a very mild one. When he had departed, Mrs. Bowser didn't accuse Mr. Bowser with putting on his summer flannels a month too soon; with forgetting his umbrella and getting soaked through; with leaving his rubbers at home and having damp feet all day. She didn't express her wonder that he hadn't died years ago, nor predict that when he reached the age of Methuselah he would know better than to roll in snowbanks or stand around in mud-puddles. She didn't kick over chairs or slam doors or leave him alone. When Mr. Bowser shed tears, she wiped them away. When he moaned, she held his hand. When he said he felt that the grim specter was near, and wanted to kiss the baby good-by, she cheered him

with the prediction that he would be a great deal better next day.

Mr. Bowser didn't get up next day, though the doctor said he could. He lay in bed and sighed, and uttered sorrowful moans and groans. He wanted toast and preserves; he had to have help to turn over; he worried about a relapse; he had to have a damp cloth on his forehead; he wanted to have a council of doctors, and he read the copy of his last will and testament over three times.

Mr. Bowser was all right next morning, however. When Mrs. Bowser asked him how he felt, he replied:

"How do I feel? Why, as right as a trivet, of course. When a man takes the care of himself that I do-when he has the nerve and will power I have-he can throw off 'most anything. You would have died, Mrs. Bowser; but I was scarcely affected. It was just a play spell. I'd like to be real sick once just to see how it would seem. Cholera, I suppose it was; but outside of feeling a little tired, I wasn't at all affected." And the dutiful Mrs. Bowser looked at him and swallowed it all, and never said a word to hurt his feelings.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bowser."

The Island of Cyprus

MR. and MRS. BOWSER had finished dinner and were seated in the back parlor, when Mr. Bowser laid aside the paper he had been glancing over.

"Pitkins was in the office this afternoon, and the change in him was something amazing."

"Yes," replied Mrs. Bowser.

"I couldn't help but pity him, though I know he is all to

blame. There's no doubt he drove Mrs. Pitkins into running away."

"I think he did."

"They say he was a regular domestic tyrant. He knew all, and wouldn't acknowledge that she had common sense. If he gave her a dollar he expected her to make it go as far as ten, and he was constantly taunting her that she was no housekeeper."

"I've heard so," remarked Mrs. Bowser.

"That's the way with some men, and I wonder that their wives stand it so long. By what right does a husband boss a wife? Matrimony is an equal partnership, as I understand it. The wife has all the rights of a husband, and in most cases she is just as intelligent and possessed of just as good judgment. By what legal or moral right does a husband hand his wife a dollar for pin-money and then go out and squander nine for his own selfish pleasures?"

"I don't know," admitted Mrs. Bowser, who was wishing the conversation had taken some other turn.

"As a matter of fact-as a matter of fact and right, Mrs. Bowser, you have as much right to our money as I have. Half of it belongs to you. Instead of coaxing and begging for money, you should demand it."

"Yes," very doubtfully.

"I know men," continued Mr. Bowser, as he warmed up to his subject, "who are jealous of their wives' intelligence, and who sit down on them at every opportunity. Thank Heaven, I am not of that sort! I have always been proud and pleased at your general knowledge of things. The fact that you are about as well-posted as I am makes me proud."

"Does it?" asked Mrs. Bowser, with a blush and a smile. "Of course it does! I sometimes find that you are a bit

ahead of me on things, and that pleases me the more. If I can learn anything from you I shall be glad of it."

"Won't you get mad if I tell you where you were wrong in talking to Mr. Abner last evening about the Chinese ?"

"No, of course not. If I am in the wrong I want to be set right. What was it?"

"You said the war between China and Japan was caused by a dispute over the Island of Cyprus."

"Yes, and I didn't say it without knowing what I was talking about!"

"The trouble arose over Corea, my dear. The Island of Cyprus is in the Mediterranean Sea, thousands of miles away, while Corea is

"Mrs. Bowser, do you suppose I've lived for forty-nine years without knowing where the Island of Cyprus is?" interrupted Mr. Bowser, as he flushed up.

"You know, of course, and it was probably a slip of the tongue when you said that the Japanese and Chinese got into a dispute over it."

"Never! There was no slip about it! I am not in the habit of making slips when talking history. The dispute began over the Island of Cyprus."

"Don't you remember when Turkey ceded that Island to England?"

"No, ma'am, I don't; nor does any one else! The dispute began over Cyprus, and Corea had nothing to do with it. The idea of your trying to post me on current events strikes me as rather cheeky!"

"But right here in the paper, Mr. Bowser, is news from Corea in connection with the war."

"I can't help what is in the paper! That's the way with you and all other wives. Let a husband admit that you know

a tenth of what he does, and you try to make him out a numskull. It was Cyprus, of course. The idea of your standing up and making me out an idiot!"

"You know where Corea is, of course?" queried Mrs. Bowser after a long silence, during which Mr. Bowser's face took on a deeper red and his breathing became more labored.

"Are you talking to me?" he demanded, as he stood up and extended his arm and pointed his finger full at her. "Do I know where my own house is? Have I got brains enough to drop off a street-car? Have I ever been sent to an idiot

asylum ?"

Mrs. Bowser made no reply. She realized her great mistake and regretted it, but it was too late.

"When a wife thinks she knows as much as her husbandwhen she even thinks she knows more-things are getting ready for a calamity! She should know her place, and her husband should see that she keeps it. The next thing you'll be getting up and talking about your legal rights!"

"You-you said you were proud and pleased at my knowledge of things," put in Mrs. Bowser, as he stamped around the room.

"And because I admitted that you might possibly have the horse sense to know that both ends of a street-car stopped at the same time, you presume to correct me about the Island of Cyprus! Didn't I say that was the way of all wives? I can see now what sort of a life poor Pitkins must have led, and what a glad relief it was when he found she had run away. Look around you, Mrs. Bowser, and see what sort of a house this is! If you'd pay some attention to our home, instead of having your nose stuck into a newspaper, we might take some little comfort!"