“Luigi, I often consult your wishes, but you
never consult mine. When I am in command I treat
you as a guest; I try to make you feel at home; when
you are in command you treat me as an intruder, you
make me feel unwelcome. It embarrasses me cruelly
in company, for I can, see that people notice it and
comment on it.”
“Oh, damn the people,” responded the brother
languidly, and with the air of one who is tired of
the subject.
A slight shudder shook the frame of Angelo, but he
said nothing and the conversation ceased. Each
buttoned his own share of the nightshirt in silence;
then Luigi, with Paine’s Age of Reason in his
hand, sat down in one chair and put his feet in another
and lit his pipe, while Angelo took his Whole Duty
of Man, and both began to read. Angelo presently
began to cough; his coughing increased and became
mixed with gaspings for breath, and he was finally
obliged to make an appeal to his brother’s humanity:
“Luigi, if you would only smoke a little milder
tobacco, I am sure I could learn not to mind it in
time, but this is so strong, and the pipe is so rank
that—”
“Angelo, I wouldn’t be such a baby!
I have learned to smoke in a week, and the trouble
is already over with me; if you would try, you could
learn too, and then you would stop spoiling my comfort
with your everlasting complaints.”
“Ah, brother, that is a strong word—everlasting—and
isn’t quite fair. I only complain when
I suffocate; you know I don’t complain when we
are in the open air.”
“Well, anyway, you could learn to smoke yourself.”
“But my principles, Luigi, you forget my principles.
You would not have me do a thing which I regard as
a sin?”
“Oh, bosh!”
The conversation ceased again, for Angelo was sick
and discouraged and strangling; but after some time
he closed his book and asked Luigi to sing “From
Greenland’s Icy Mountains” with him, but
he would not, and when he tried to sing by himself
Luigi did his best to drown his plaintive tenor with
a rude and rollicking song delivered in a thundering
bass.
After the singing there was silence, and neither brother
was happy. Before blowing the light out Luigi
swallowed half a tumbler of whisky, and Angelo, whose
sensitive organization could not endure intoxicants
of any kind, took a pill to keep it from giving him
the headache.
MA COOPER GETS ALL MIXED UP
The family sat in the breakfast-room waiting for the
twins to come down. The widow was quiet, the
daughter was alive with happy excitement. She
said:
“Ah, they’re a boon, ma, just a boon!
on’t you think so?”
“Laws, I hope so, I don’t know.”
“Why, ma, yes you do. They’re so
fine and handsome, and high-bred and polite, so every
way superior to our gawks here in this village; why,
they’ll make life different from what it was—so
humdrum and commonplace, you know—oh, you
may be sure they’re full of accomplishments,
and knowledge of the world, and all that, that will
be an immense advantage to society here. Don’t
you think so, ma?”
