Evening Capital

The Model Husband at Work.

The Doodlebugs are going out of town. They are hastening for the train. Mr. Doodlebug is getting them off. He is full of business, as becomes the head of the family.
"Here, Emeline, take this little valise and the baby and go on. I'll catch up with you before you get to the station. Hold on, I'll just hook this hat-box on your fingers. There now, that'll carry nicely; got the baby all right? Tommy, you and Billy and little sister run along with mother— great heavens, Emeline, don't let that child run across the street alone; take hold of his hand, can't you? Tommy, come back and get this umbrella and bag of lemons! Emeline! Emeline! You've forgotten the lunch basket. Billy, run here quick and take this lunch basket to your mother! Now, Emeline, do hurry, or you'll miss the train. Never mind the rest of the things: I'll carry them."
Four minutes after Mrs. Emeline reaches the station, having wrestled all the way with a baby, three children and four packages, Mr. Doodlebug arrives, carrying a rattan cane weighing four ounces. He is so tired he has to go into the smoking car and sleep all the way to the station.
The Doodlebugs? Imaginary people? Not by a long chalk, my dear sir. They live right here in Burlington, and everybody knows them. No. I don't know that he is considered much more selfish than some of his neighbors. Mrs. Doodlebug thinks he is a model husband. Yes. I have heard some of her neighbors say she is a fool. But she isn't, I don't think. She is a woman, and consequently loves her husband too well to club him with a coupling pin every once in a while for his own good. She would carry more things for him if she had more arms.
—Hawkeye.