You Should Worry Says John Henry Part 10

"She came here well recommended--by herself. She said she knew how to cook backwards.

"We believed her after the first meal, because that's how she cooked it.

"Phyllis was a very inventive girl. She could cook anything on earth or in the waters underneath the earth, and she proved it by trying to mix tenpenny nails with the baked beans.

"When Phyllis found there was no shredded oats in the house for breakfast she changed the cover of the wash tub into sawdust and sprinkled it with the whisk-broom, chopped fine.

"It wasn't a half bad breakfast food of the home-made kind, but every time I took a drink of water the sawdust used to float up in my throat and tickle me.

"The first and only day she was with us Phyllis squandered two dollars worth of eggs trying to make a lemon meringue pie.

"She tried to be artistic with this, but one of the eggs was old and nervous and it slipped.

"Uncle Peter asked Phyllis if she could cook some Hungarian goulash and Phyllis screamed, 'No; my parents have been Swedes all their lives!'

Then she ran him across the lawn with the carving knife.

"Aunt Martha went in the kitchen to ask what was for dinner and Phyllis got back at her, 'Im a woman, it is true, but I will show you that I can keep a secret!'

"When the meal came on the table we were compelled to keep the secret with her.

"It looked like Irish stew, tasted like clam chowder, and behaved like a bad boy.

"On the second day it suddenly occurred to Phyllis that she was working, so she handed in her resignation, handed Hank, the gardener, a jolt in his cafe department, handed out a lot of unnecessary talk, and left us flat.

"The next rebate we had in the kitchen was a colored man named James Buchanan Pendergrast.

"James was all there is and carry four. He was one of the most careful cooks that ever made faces at the roast beef.

"The evening he arrived we intended to have shad roe for dinner and James informed us that that was where he lived.

"Eight o'clock came and no dinner. Then Aunt Martha went in the kitchen to convince him that we were human beings with appet.i.tes.

"She found Careful James counting the roe to see if the fish dealer had sent the right number.

"He was up to 2,196,493 and still had a half pound to go.

"James left that night followed by shouts of approval from all present.

"I'm telling you all this, Hep, just to prove that Fate is kind while it delays your wedding until some genius invents an automatic cook made of aluminum and electricity."

Hep laughed and shook his head.

"The servant problem won't delay my wedding," he chortled; "if there wasn't a cook left in the world we wouldn't care; we're going to be vegetarians because we're going to live in the Garden of Eden."

"Tush!" I snickered.

"Tush, yourself!" said Hep.

"Oh, tush, both of you," said Peaches; "John said that very thing to me three weeks before we were married."

"Sure I did," I went back, "and we're still in the Garden, aren't we? Of course, if you want to sub-let part of it and have Hep and his bride roaming moon-struck through your strawberry beds, that's up to you!"

"Well," said friend wife, "being alone in the Garden of Eden is all right, but after you've been there three or four years there's a mild excitement in hearing a strange voice, even if it is that of a Serpent!"

Close the door, Delia, I feel a draft.

CHAPTER VIII

YOU SHOULD WORRY ABOUT AUCTION BRIDGE

Receiving letters which I promptly forget to answer is a hobby with me.

The disease must be hereditary--possibly from my grandfather, who was a village postmaster. He used to get a lot of letters he never answered.

(Man the life-line, lads; we'll get him ash.o.r.e yet!)

Well, here's one I am going to answer.

It's a bit of literature that reached me a day or two ago, chaperoned by a two-cent stamp and a hunk of pale green sealing-wax.

Philadelphia, Lately.

Dear John:--I have never met you personally, but I've heard my brother, Teddy, speak of you so often that you really seem to be one of the family.

(Teddy talks slang something fierce.)

Dear John, will you please pardon the liberty I take in grabbing a two-cent stamp and jumping so unceremoniously at one who is, after all, a perfect stranger?

Dear John, if you look around you can see on every hand that the glad season of the year is nearly here, and if you listen attentively you may hear the hoa.r.s.e cry of the summer resort beckoning us to that bourne from which no traveler returns without getting his pocketbook dislocated.

Dear John, could you please tell me how to play auction bridge, so that when I go to the seash.o.r.e I will be armed for defraying expenses?

Dear John, I am sure that if I could play auction bridge loud enough to win four dollars every once in a while I could spend a large bunch of the summer at the seash.o.r.e.

Dear John, would you tell a loving but perfect stranger how to play the game without having to wear a mask?

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Dear John, I played a couple of games recently with a wide-faced young man who grew very playful and threw the parlor furniture at me because I trumpeted his ace. I fancy I must have did wrong. The fifth time I trumpeted his ace the young man arose, put on his gum shoes, and skeedaddled out of the house. Is it not considered a breach of etiquette to put on gum shoes in the presence of a lady?

If you please, dear John, tell me how to play auction bridge.

Yours fondly, GLADYS JONES.

P. S. The furniture which he threw was not his property to dispose of.

G. J.