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Show THE OLD-TIME BATTI SATURDAY NIGHT IMMERSION A TIME OF HORROR. Middle-Aged Business Man Contrasts the Luxury of the Present Day With the Life In 8mall Western Town Twenty-five Years Ago. "Last night," said tho comfortable-looking comfortable-looking man with tho 48-lnch waistband, waist-band, "1 'stood by,' as the sailors say, wlillo tho wlfo bestowed n scrubbing upon my 7-year-old youngster. Nothing Noth-ing roraarkablo about that, is thero? But it set mo to thinking nbout how much better tho kids of to-day havo It than they did when I was a lad my-celt. my-celt. "Ho looked mighty comfortable, that boy did, and he Just lay thero In tho tub nnd let his mother swnb nnd molty-coddlo htm with nil tho Insouciance Insou-ciance Jn llfo. When tho dousing was over ho stood up nnd let tho tepid wator from tho shower run over him, nnd then ho stepped out of tho tub onto a bath rug, and his mother gavo him a brisk drying with a Turkish towel. Then sho anointod him with Florida water, rigged htm out in n fresh night shirt, and tucked him into b'd. "I know, when I wns his ago, this Saturday night bathing gnmo was always al-ways in store for mo, and I used to look forward to It with a kind of a feeling of dcBnnlr. But I'd dodgo tho tie Job as long as possible, and I'd wait for my good mother to appear at the back gato and summon mo homo qlong toward 8 or 0 o'clock of the Saturday Sat-urday night. By thnt timo sho'd hnvo tho supper dishes all washed up and the pans in tho kitchen all a-shtnlng for Sunday, and tho old wnsh tub, with tho wooden handles sticking up abovo tho brim, would bo out In tho Oilddlo of tho kitchen floor. " 'Get tho water, son,' Rhe'd sny to mo, and then tho Job was on. It wns a llttlo western town whero thero wero no water works, but tho well was right out In the back yard. That well always al-ways seemed about a mtlo and a halt deep to me when I was drawing up the water for tho Saturday night scrubbing. Then my brother and I would begin to raco to seo which could peel his duds off first, and get tho first bath. Tho reason why we both wanted to get tho first bath wasn't, of course, on nccount of any love for tho bathing, but becauso It was so much fun for the one who had got through with tho horrlblo Job first to stand around nice and dry and warm, and make fucrs at tho ono who was just beginning to undergo tho misery. "Well, when I was tho 'first undressed' un-dressed' I'd skate over to the old green-painted wnsh tub and feel o' tho water with one of my hands and feel snd with myself. B-r-r-r-r! but wasn't thnt well water cold, though. I'd stand thero and look into tho depths of tho tub, shivering, until my mother mndo hor nppenrnnco In the kitchen with her paraphernalia. " 'Now, get In thero, you boy,' my good mother 'ud say, and I'd stick ono fcot In, swearing In my heart all tho time that at tho first chance I was going go-ing to run away to be n sailor or somethingand some-thingand then my mother would exert ex-ert a sudden pressure ou my shoulders should-ers nnd down I'd kcrflummox In that icy water. I wouldn't bo 'through gasping gasp-ing and trying to get my breath beforo she'd begin on my upper superstructure superstruc-ture with a piece o' rod flannel for a washrag and half a bar of common ynller soap that had odgos on It as harp as a knife. "Mother was pretty muscular in thoso days, and tho way sho'd begin to gouge and boro with that red flannel flan-nel washrag and that soap was sure a caution to locusts. And when she wasn't busy with tho hand holding tho washrag she'd Always let tho durned cold thing hang, dripping, down my back. Such a swabberino! Talk about your military scrubblngs and things like that, I'll bet thcy'ro not one, two, three with tho washtub swims that that ever faithful, self-reliant, self-reliant, strong-armed mother of mine put mo through when I was at the tadger stage of llfo. I can smell that yaller bar of &oap yet It smelt like 'rozzum' nol rutin, y'understand, but 'rozzum.' Mnybo I wasn't always glad when she- began to rinse mo off by dipping a tin wash-basin into the tub nnd pouring tho water on my head. Tho drylng-olt process didn't nmount to much, but you can wager your galluses that It wasn't dono with any turklsh towel. Tact Is, there'd often bo a shyness of nny kind of a regular towel on these owuslons, "so that I've seen my mother hunt around for an old pillow case or a remnant of somp mysterious mys-terious cottony garment for the dry-Ing-off part of the Job. And I guess maybe I didn't breathe a sigh of deep contentment and relief when, after clipping Into one o' those old-fash- lone.l, fuzzy-wuzzy cauton flannel union night garments for young una, 1 got Into tho old feather bed, with the applo tree Just outside tho window and know that the next bnti: was n whole week- In the distance." Washington Wash-ington Post. |