“If a wife is allowed to boil at
all she will always boil over.”
The Gentle Art
of
Cooking Wives
Published at 150 Fifth Avenue, New York
by the Dodge Publishing Company
[The Gentle Art of Cooking Wives]
COPYRIGHT IN THE YEAR
NINETEEN HUNDRED BY
DODGE PUBLISHING CO.
“CONSTANCE”
I[9]
“Girls, come to order!” shouted HildaBretherton in a somewhat disorderlytone.
“How can we come to order withouta president?” queried a rosy-cheeked, roly-polydamsel answering to the name ofPuddy Kennett.
“I elect Prue Shaftsbury!” screamedHilda above the merry din of voices.
“You can't elect—you simply nominate,”said Prue.
“I second the motion,” said NannieBranscome, and her remark was instantlyfollowed by a storm of “ayes” beforethey were called for, and the presidentwas declared elected and proceeded totake her seat.
“Young ladies,” said she, “we are metto consider a scandalous——”
“Scurrilous,” suggested Hilda.[10]
“——alarming article,” continued thepresident, “entitled 'How to CookWives.'”
“Here! here!” interrupted Hilda again,“we can't do anything until we've electedofficers and appointed committees.”
“Out of a club of four members?”queried Prudence.
“Certainly. Mother said that yesterdayat her club, out of eight women theyelected twelve officers and appointedseven committees of three each. Why,you know two men can't meet on a streetcorner without immediately forming asecret society, electing president, vice-president,secretary, and treasurer, andappointing a committee of five to get upa banquet.”
“But to return to the subject,” persistedthe president—a long-faced girlwith a solemn countenance, but a suspiciousgleam in her eye. “'How toCook Wives'—that is the question beforethe house.”
“'How to Cook Wives!' Well, if thatisn't rich! It makes me think of the old[11]English nursery song—'Come, ducky,come and be killed.' Now it will be,'Come, ducky, come and be cooked.' Imove that Congress be urged to enact alaw adopting that phrase as the only legalform of proposal. Then if any littlegoose accepts she knows what to expect,and is not caught up and fried withoutforeknowledge.”
“Young ladies,” said the president.
“Don't mow me down in my prime,”urged Hilda in an injured tone. “I'mmaking my maiden speech in the house.”
“Oh, girls, look, quick!” cried Puddy.“See Miss Leigh. Isn't that a fetchinggown she has on?”
The entire club rushed to the window.
“Who's she with?” asked Hilda. “He'srather fetching, too.”
“I believe his name is Chance,” saidPuddy Kennett. “He's not a society fellow.”
“Oh, he's the chum of that lovely man,”said Hilda.
“Which lovely man?” asked Prue.“There are so man