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P. 42

THE  INVENTOR’S   WIFE.

                         ~|"T'S  easy to  talk  of  tlie patience of  Job,   Humph !  Job  hec!  nothin
                          j         to  try  him  !
                               E f  he'd  been  married  to  ’ilijnii  Hrown, folks  wouldn't  have  dared
                                 :aine  ni^h  him.
                         Trials,  indeed  !   Now  I'd  tell  you  what— of  you  want  to  be  sick  of
                                 yon i'  life,
                         Jcs-  come  >:iid  change  pJaccs  with  me  a  spell— for  I ’m  an  inventor's
                                 wife.

                         A r:'  scci  invcr.iion.s!  I  ni  never  sure,  when  I  take  up  my coffee-potf
                         Tdat  ’ S5:irih  n ain't  been  “ improvin’ "  it, and it mayn’t go off like a shot.
                         W ay,  don't he rr:ake me a cradle once, that would keep  itself a  rockin’ ;
                         Ar:,  dienf  it pitch the baby  out, and  wasn’t  lii.i  head  bruised shockin’ ?


                         And  there  war,11,r.:s  "  Patent  Peeler,”  too— a  wonderful  thing,  I ’ll  say:
                         I3ut  it h-_d  cne  fstili— it  never  stopped  till  the  apple  wns  peeled  away.
                         As  for  lock:),  and  r.’ocks, and  mowin'  machines,  and  reapers,  and  all
                                 tech  tra.-h,
                         VV i _y „  1 j-jij a Vi j s  : n vc n t ed  ' i c  ps  of  ’em,  but th ey  d on11 b rin g  i n  n o  a ish.

                         Law  !  that  clonk worry him— not at  a ll;  he’s the aggravatin'cst man—•
                         IfeT  set  in  his  little  workshop  there,  and  whiitk*, and think,  and  plan,
                         Inventin’  a  ;owk-harp  to  go  by  steam,  or a  new-fangled  powder-horn,
                          t'Vhile tne  children's  goii?’  barefoot  to  school  and  the  weeds  is  chokin'
                                 onr  corn.


                         When  I've  keen  forced  to  chop  the wood, and  tend  to  the farm beside.
                         And  look  at  ’J&jali  a-settin  there,  I ’ve  jest  dropped  down  and  cried.
                         We  lost  the  hull  of  our turnip  crop while he was  inventin’  a  gun;  '
                         .Ui■!t  I  counted  it  one  of  my  rnarcics  when  it  bu’st before  ’twras  done.

                         So  he turned  it  into  a “ burglar  alarm.”   It  ought to  give  thieves  a
                                 fr icd-ji-—
                         'T  would  scare an  honest  man out  of  his  wits,  ef  he  sot it off at  night.
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