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Show Most Unkind Cut. She was tho wlfo of a poot, and. to tell the truth, sho hadn't n great oplnlun of what her husband wrote. "I wish." sho said ono morning to her husband, "that you'd try writing proso " Her husband smoothed his long, flowing frocks. "Why, my dear?" hu demanded In a voice of Indignation. "Why? Hava I not kept you In comfortable circumstances circum-stances all your life? Have not my little books of poetry a vast circulation" circula-tion" "Oh yes!" agreed tho wife "Hut every now and then 1 me' pfiolo who ask mo If Tvo rend thlr or that j you've written, and, really. I'm gutting gut-ting sick of having to pretend nil the time. Why can't you write something ' that I can read?" |
