“What will Hon. Mr Bobb say,” I rebuke, “when he return to dinner each
p. m. and find his Love growing less and less? Would you shrink thusly
from the hand that feeds you?”
“If that hand did not feed me so much, perhapsly I would be less
mountainous,” she gollup.
Yet she were determined. With immediate quickness she send to Hon. Dr
Physician and get Aunty Fat cure. Following was recipe for it:
1st--Make things disagreeable for self and others.
2st--Dress in rubber shirt-waist & exercise until entirely unhappy.
Keep on doing so.
3st--Avoid sleep by keeping awake.
4st--Avoid foods in any form. Beef tea & hard tack may be used as a
substitute. Add Gen. Discomfort.
5st--Keep away from pleasant thoughts, as these are very fatty.
6st--Shun all proteids, caryatids and asteroids.
Mr Editor, did you ever try to cook for a lady what requires nothing
to eat but hard tack & beef tea? Such work might be easy, but it
ain’t. Supplying her with meals were like feeding canned vacuum to
camels--light work, but deliciously scientific.
Hon. Mr Bobb, who was thin and red headed like a match, could eat
a banquet multiplied by three each day and appear just as wirey
as before. Foods make him thinner, so he require it continuously.
Therefore, I must cook very lopsided meals for them Bobbs to eat
it. For dinner-eat Hon. Bobbs absorb veal stew containing potatus,
fricaseed gravy, hot buns & beans of great wealth. But Hon. Mrs Bobbs
give me strick orders to serve her only bowl of soupless broth with
plate of very hard tack.
“I appreciate bravery of soldiers,” she say, eating with gnaws.
“Why should it?” reply her husband.
“Because,” she wep, “after eating hard tack for 1 week I should be
willing to die for Country or anything else.”
For dessert Hon. Mr had a minced pie while Hon. Mrs had a hysteric.
When Hon. Mr seen this noise he run to telephone and report.
“Oh Dr, Dr!” he holla, “Hon. Mrs have got one hysteric!”
“So glad to hear!” rejoint Hon. Medicine with smiling voice. “Grief are
a great reducer.”
Hon. Mrs took walking exercise every morning from 9 o’clock until she
got back. In this promenade she resemble elephants marching in Siamese
funeral--each footstep seemed to go in front of the other with sorry
expression of great weight. When she return back she set down in
parlour attempting to deceive herself into staying awake.
“Your lunching are prepared on table,” I pronounce with servant voice.
“Please do not call beef tea lunching!” she snib like a cross stork.
She set down and et hard tack with extreme desolation.
After lunching she go groanfully to upstairs side. Pretty soonly I hear
plaster and other brick-a-brack falling amidst considerable earthquake,
so I know Hon. Mrs was rolling her figure over the carpet.
After 2 complete weeks of this hygiene had went by, Hon. Bobbs come
home one night with scales for weighing coal.
“Now we shall observe how much you have subtracted by efforts,” he
negotiate cheerly.
“I am so wasted away I can scarcely jump,” she mone. She step to scales
which throw up their arms with loudy clatter when she got on.
Hon. Bobbs hang considerable 100 lbs of iron to Hon. Scales before he
could strike a balance. At lastly Mrs Madam was weighed.
“Dearie,” report Hon. Husband with voice, “You have not suffered all
for vain. You have lost exactly ½ lb!”
She fainted all over him.
Mr. Editor, there are nothing more injurious to life than doing what
is good for us. Folks seeking health are considerable insurance risk.
Dutiful persons is nearly always cross, and dypsepia are the favourits
pastime of folks what never do no harm to their interior stomachs.
Me & Hon. Bobbs got entirely worried about how Hon. Mrs was making
behaviour. In losing 2 lbs she dropped her spirits 1 ton. So I make
lecture to her on this subjeck one day.
“Why you live in midst of groceries & take nothing?” I ask out.
“Sailors enjoys more bill of fare when shipwrecked on logs. When driven
desperado by hunger thay can at leastly cook each other.”
“Not having to drink beef tea are sifficient to make them happy,” she
croke with Ibsen voice.
All day she behave with air of rejected alimony. When her Husband
encroach home by night time he notice this.
“Kitten,” he require, “how much pounds you lost to-day?”
Peeved silence by her.
“O dearie,” he deplore. “If you continue this bant some longer, home
will never seem snug again. Since you started to reduce, you have
become fatter and me thinner. In attempting to reduce your waist you
merely make your mind narrow. The less you eat the more biting your
replies becomes. O fill my home like once you used to do, or I shall
blow off and become suddenly zero!”
Thus he say it with voice like a sad actor. But she merely set
exercising her elbows cruely like a Svoboda.
Next morning while Hon. Mrs were off making lonesome walk for thinness,
I was in kitchen thinking thoughtfully about Fat. Why should ladies
abhor this delicious padding? I ask to know. Are not round circles more
beautiful than straight strings? Are not pillows more lovely as snakes?
Answer is, Yes!!!
Therefore, I must lead this Boss Lady away from her emaciated mania
before her husband removed himself from her peeved disposition and
happy home was shipwrecked around my kitchen.
So I lit gas stove, took out recipe book, flour, sugar, apples & other
nourishments and with immediate quickness I began stewing things what
smelled like a banquet.
At noon time Hon. Mrs Madam come to table and set down, as usual, with
forceable-feeding expression.