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Money M is# »i Mi. o % You can do this by buying your Dry Goods, Clothing, Furnishing Goods and Staple and Fancy Groceries from the new firm of B. M. Johnson & Co., Successors to B. F. Joonson, Sons & Co., in their uew storeroom, Main Streat, Mesa City, The cheapest store in town. Produce taken in exchange for goods. GIVE) US A. CALL. Cards. JRCIL MARTIN, and Ear, Phoenix, A. T. DR. i.M. GILBERT, P'fyp Si<g4a.n. & Surgeon iltfr —First door west of Co.-Op. Baeidenee, second house south ot the Kit&ball House. H. z. aiTOK. W. L. VANHORN £)R. J. W. BAILEY, —DSAt 1 N Drugs, Medieines. Chemicals, FANCY AnD TOILET ARTICLES Sponges, flrashca. Perfumery, ' Ete MESA, ARIZONA' • T ' ’ x v 'umtK ’To 1110 V nu.OTOuiH wi > > \mvi sjo/dsunoQ y sfoujowir f )IOnZ * NftflOH NVA Q J. WILLIAMS, Eclectic Physician and Surgeon WILL ATTEND ALL CALIiJ PROMPTLY. SWChronic diseases of women a specialty. Jgy Office : One door North of Bee- Hive Store Kse3£i, - - Arizona ► , ■/ 4 v LEHI STORE! CHAS. WING, PROP Full line of Groceries, Dry Goods, Etc. Agent for the White Harble Lime Quarry lime— the b£st in the market. Fat People JBkUi Obssitt Pills reduce your weight per manently from 12 to 15 pounds a month. No starving sickness or injnryy.no publicity.. They tapld up the health and beautify the com ptexioa leaving no wrinkles or flabbiness. Stout abdomens and difficult breathing surely re ievei. no experiment a scientific and positive relief. Price $2 per package by «Sil pNflpeM Testimonials and particulars (Mod) 9e. A! eorrespondenoe strictly ootffldentiaT. Park Remedy Co. f Boston: mesa Free Press. A Well*Groonied Woman. “H’m !” Mr. Fenton pne down his even ing paper and regarded his wife with a sigh. She sat on the other side of the table mending her way through a pile of stockings moun tain high; a plump little woman of 40, none too trim n figure, decided ly ruffled of hair, but with a merry twinkle in her blue eyes and moth erliness expressed in every line her comfortable person. “Well?” she said, looking up, feeling with a sinking at the heart that some new complication had come up in the financial situation and that she was about to be treat ed to views of bi-metalism, addling to the feminine mind. But no. Her lord and master had been led into a very different train of thought “it’s nearly fifteen years that we have been married, Mary,” he mus ed, remembering as he spoke that in that time he had hardly ever before scrutinized her with such a criticaPgaze. “Tell it not. in gath,” she laugh ed. “I’m gr wing old, but let us keep the secret in the family as long as we can.” “Yes, you have changed —we have both changed. Whet a vain little chatterbox you used to be ! “Vox et praeterea nihil express ed me in those days. Now, socks et praeterea nihil 11 would be more like it,” cried Mrs. Fenton gayly, with a flourish of her darning nee dle at the work basket, “And as for vanity! Bless my heart ! I should like to know when I have had time to be vain 1” “I am afraid you are getting a little careless, my dear,” her hus band observed, congratulating him self on having so easily led up to the discussion he wanted. “Some times it has struck me that you were almost untid\ T , and that’s a sad mistake for a woman. If she has the air of being well groomed, she possesses a very great charm . ” Mr Fenton wore prodigious whiskers, Dundreary-like, and they hid a blush which rose to his face at the consciousness that he was quoting the newspaper article j verbatim et literatim. But his wife had no such protection, and the rich color visibly dyed her very brow. To be called untidy is a cruel stab from one’s better (?) half, , but she restrained the indignation r bn her lips and tried to ask quite ’ calmly.: i “Whom should you call a par | ticularly well groomed woman, now? Os dotirse I suppose there are 999 of tfaetn in the four hundred, but > among our neighbors? It would MESA CITY, ARIZONA, FRIDAY, AUGUST 2, 1*95. J lu lp me to find a model, you know.’ There had been moments in their wedded career when Mr. Fenton I had felt that the working of a fem inine intellect was quite beyond him, and this was another of them. At what was Mary driving? It. was impossible to suspect her of r jealousy, for from that taint her sweet nature was absolutely free. So, rather in the dark, he replied helplessly! —all. Well, Mrs. Van Dusen, now. She always seems to me what yon would term well groomed --.a fine figure of a woman, and dresses migh y well.” “M rs. Van Dusen spends SIOOO j a year for dress where [ spend, perhaps $l5O. She buys her figure from an expensive corset-maker, but it is useless to mention that to a man. .s .. has no children, three servants, and nothing to think of but fixing herself up. I am not complaining, J; urns, dear. You remember you brought up * he sub ject yourself, but when you com pare me with Robert Van Dusen’s wife you should consider the diff erence in our circumstances, I have many, many cares, and my days are full to the brim.” The rough head bent over the hole which was being filled with a careful lattice-work of black yarn, and the needle went steadily in and out. If the menders eyes were dim nobody noticed it. “But it takes very little time to keep one’s self in neatness and or der. Just hear this, now, my dear. A very good article, very sensible, too.” The eloquence of Cicero, the rounded periods of a Junius would not have moved Mary Fenton at that moment. It to>'k all her wits to keep down the bitterness in her heart. Without waiting for en couragement, her husband read on: “The woman who has air of be ing well groomed lias a very great charm for men.” (He skipped this sentence. Why expose the writer to a charge of plagiarism ?) ‘Really ladies, you should at least try the experiment, and may well devote a little time each day to the culti vation of exquisite personal detail at the expense of some pt some of your frivolous amusements. First, do not rise too -ai i \ Breakfast in bed on a cup of coffee, a roll, perhaps a little fruit, and plan your toilets for the day.” Up went Mary’s eyebrows and a sarcastic smile played about her mourh. Three children to send to school at 9 o'clock, and breakfast to get before that ! Glancing up Mr. Fenton caught the smile. “Naturally,” lie interrupted him self, “every woman cannot follow this plan exactly, but the general outline is good. You‘ll see.“ So he traveled down the columns of directions, for the bath with bran bags, almond meal and orris root, the pedicuring, the manicur- j jng, the elaborate brushing of hair J and teeth, the gymnastics for the developing of the figure, the care ful examination of each article of clothing to see if a single stitch be wanting, the hundreds of little de tails which it takes so few minutes * to write down, so many to carry out. As he went on, Mary's nat -1 uval sense of fun came to her res * cue, and, beginning to appreciate! absurdity of the situation, she held ' her peace, adding up as they were mentioned in turn, twenty minutes * for this, the thirty minutes for that k and her husband drew a long * breath at the end of the evolution o’ a lovely creature immaculate from top to toe. “It seems to me,“ observed she, demurely, “as if cleanliuess were getting ahead of godliness nowa- I days. Well, it must be delightful ..j to go through such a thorough pro ; c *ss, and yet. four hours seems a long time to devote to dressing every morning." “Four hours!" exca-mel Mr. s Fenton, taken by surprise. “My dear, yo t must bejmistaken. Why the half hour for the bath is the longest item in the lot." “Many a little makes a mickle, papa, dear," rejoined Mary, earn estly. “Do you think there is ev er a morning in the whole year's round when I could take four hours for all the adorning of my own person? Wlieie would your break fast be, and the children, and the orders to the butcher and the gro cer? James what are you going to do tomorrow ?“ she suddenly asked, and a dimple appeared in her cheek, which made her look quite young again. “Tomorrow," he repea tel m*— chanically. “Yes: at the ofiice you know. Anything special ? “Why no. I have a dozen bills to collect for Mr, Shaw; that‘.s all Why ?" •‘Because I want to try a little experiment. It's not at all origi nal. In fact it's as old as the hills. Promise me that you will do it. ‘ j “If it is within reason," stipu- j lated Mr. Fenton. His wif.j had ■ not changed so much after all. If j she had outgrown her neatness, (he old vivacity was still alive in her. “This is what 1 want you to do. Change places with me for one day. Let me collect the bills for Mr., Snow. 1 warrant you that 1! \ I will get every cent of it an I you stay at home as housekeeper, nurse and general factotum “ “What perfect nonsense !” growl - ed the gentleman, taking up his paper again. “I should think you were a school girl of 16. You know that’s impossible.” But it was not impossible, and Mrs. Fenton proved it, if not to her spouse’s satisfaction, at least to his conviction. She had recourse to all her forsaken arts of coaxing and wheedling, and at last, quite worn out with arguing and shuffling he had to give in, and agreed to make a fool of himself on the mor row. The victor went up to lied triumphant, pausing in the nursery to leave the big mending basket and to lean lovingly for a moment over the bed where her twin boys lay sleeping—sturdy lads of 9. In the next room she, drew aside little Mabel’s tumbled curls and left a kiss on the rosy cheek, and at length, with a deep sigh, she found herself standing before her dressing table, taking down the coils of her hair. Many a silver thread had j stolen into the bright brown rip j pies, but they still fell to her waist as abundant as ever, and against the girlish background her face seemed to loose some of its lines of care. Was it true that she had been growing careless of her own appearance? Like a flash there ran across her mind those words about Mrs. Van Dusen, and, star ing earnestly at the glass, she felt a thrill of simple pride in its as surance that, with such clothes as adorned that lady, they would be more on a par in good looks than a casual observer would imagine. Then she thought of her husband and the experiment that was to be } tried and, laughing so tly to her self, she turned out the gas and , got into bed, hearing that unfor ■ tunate man in the cellar below, ■ muttering like the ghost of Ham let’s father as he put coal on the furnace tire. The memory of the following day is even now a hideous nightmare to James Fenton. Never had the office where he kept books for a peppery and unreasonable coal merchant involved him in so many trying situations. His wife, true to the arrangement, had presented herself at breakfast arrayed in hei walking dress, and offered to mak suggestions about curling Mabel’ hair, tying on her pinafore and mending a mitten brought to lie just as the one maid rang lv* bell for breakfast. Hannah was in the secret, for she had already bee* to ask his advice about the inutti i wiih a giggle, and To n and Harry had been told by mamma that their father would lay out their clean clothes and giye them any he p; they needed in the toilet line. By the time he sat down at the tabb he was a desperate man. His own toilet had been sketchy in the ex treme, and he had literally had not a minute to think. Mary in the, gayest of spirits took his bundle of bills and went off, reminding him not to forget to sott the washing just brought upstairs, and that this was the day for sweeping the par lor. “And I hope,” . said sh * 1 cruelly at parting “that you will ' find time to give at least fifty i strokes of the brush to your back i hair, James, dear.” ! ! The pen refuses to record what j James replied under his breath to this heartless taunt curses not loud, but deep —for when a man ! has said farewell to his back hair it is hard to bo reminded of it* The day wore on. He hardly knew why he did not fling off the yoke and go down town as usual, but some dogged perversity in his j nature kept him at his post, and, j to his own grim amusement, Han— J nan’s delight., and the children’s | astonishment he did his best to ! take up all his wife’s forsaken duties. She had not exaggerated when she said that her house was full, and that she had not time to think of herself. A thousand and one little tasks sprung up on every side. Housework seemed to him a many-headed hydra, and one being knocked off, another instantly ap peared in ics place to distract and bewilder. Late in the afternoon, as he sat down for a moment to rest, seeing a spare quarter of an hour before it was time to lay the table for supper, a loud outcry arose below stairs, and the twins appeared, bearing poor little Mabel between them, a damp, doleful ob ject, covered from head to foot with mud. The children talked all together, and at the top of their lungs, trying to explain how Harry had playfully poked his sister, and how she had lost her balance, and had fallen headfor most into the gutter, “in the very gutterest place, papa,” and the poor man tore his few remaining locks aa he bore his daughter off to the bathroom for a complete change of clothes, involving the intricacies of , buttons, strings and pins all over . again. At 5.30 Mrs. Fenton returned. ■ A day spent principally in the open air had proved a veritable tonic, and she was a pleasant sight 1 to see, with a becoming color in i her cheeks and f es unwontedly • bright, as she tripped upstairs lightly, in spite of her 40 ye u s bursting into the nursery in such * bustle and stir of good spirit* ih»»t it grated upon the nerves of her husband, prostrate upon the nor'*, after the exhausting program of his housekeeping. The fun died out of her voice, though not from her glance, as she bent over him, saying softly: ‘ Poor dear James. Still in your morning dress ? What does thU mean 1 I am afraid you aie getting into un tidy ways.” Mr. Fenton frowned byway of replv. “Mary,” he murmured, feebly, after a moment, “will you accept a humbled man’s apology? Imv< r dreamed before what a never-end ing round of work a woman’s life could be. I’m a perfect |w cek— but I speak for myself. You will never hear another word of criti cism from me if you look like a rag bag.” Mary dropped a kiss on his fevered brow. It was the seal of her forgiveness. A quick look about the room showed her its dis order, but she kept her amusement to herself. “I have had a busy day, too,” she pursued, brightly, taking oil her bonnet. “First, your bills. The people who owed them were so astonished when a woman walked in to collect that they handed over the m mey without a word, and be fore 11 o’clock my pocketbook was full. That was the end of my duty. Business is rather amusing, James, I think, and not too excit ing, for it left me a good many hours, you see, before i.t was time to come home, so I went to Cousin Lizzie’s “ James gave a start. Cousin Lizzie was a butterfly of fakhiott, for whom Mary ; s tongue was usu ally a lash of scorn. “Yes, Cousin L : zzie. And I said,‘Lizzie, I am not well dressed/ “That's no news," says Lizzie. “No but I want to be.“ “That's good news/* “Put on on your things, and take me to your tailor. So she did and I‘ve ordered a very smart gown, my dear, which is quite equal to anything ®f any neighhor‘B, a new bonnet and a cap<», gloves and boots and s® on. And I have had some corsets sent home £roni Mrs. Yan Dusen's own woman. You shall never have occasion to complain of me again, James. Well groomed. |I thank thee, * <fim, tor teaching me that word." As she went into the closet to put away her wraps, she stole a glance at her husband. It found him in a state of collapse, and. in the remote depths of that closet she broke into a little flurry, of . laughter only to be heard by the moth balls among the furs. "Just then the supper bell, tink led. “Come,-* called Mrs. Fenton, gayly, pulling her husband up from the sofa, James Fenton slept the sleep of ga penitent sinner that night and the morrow restored *he old regimo. But the seed sown had fallen in good ground and the next Sunday morning the lady of the house was long over her toilet and when at length she appeared, she was togged out in finery of the t latest styles. Her husband was ! dumb and the children wild with , I delight. There was a pile offpijls on Mr. Fenton's desk the - month for which he drew No. 47.