Sheppard Lee, Written by Himself. Vol. 1 (of 2)Bird, Robert Montgomery
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Sheppard Lee, Written by Himself. Vol. 1 (of 2)
Bird, Robert Montgomery
American fiction -- 19th century; Satire
No one but a henpecked husband who may happen to be shut up in prison
with his wife, can appreciate the horror of the situation in which
I now found myself placed. The gout prevented my escaping, even for
a moment, from the sway of my spouse; she truly had me tied to her
apron-string, and, as I may say, by a cord that went round my sore
foot. I was a martyr to two of the greatest ills that ever afflicted
a son of Adam; and the two together were not to be borne. Either, if
alone, I might perhaps have tolerated, in consideration of the many
good things that marked my lot. I might have endured the gout, if I
had had a wife who, instead of scolding at me, would have suffered me,
as a good wife should, to do all the scolding myself; or I might even
have submitted to the tyranny of my Margaret, had I been able to beat a
retreat when I grew tired of it. But my wife and the gout together were
not to be borne by any human being: they set me, after a while, quite
distracted.
What pleasure had I in being the rich John H. Higginson? It was in vain
that my brother-in-law, Tim (who, it appears, was the junior partner
and factotum in the brewery, as well as manager-general of my affairs),
bragged to me of the astonishing rise in my property, and declared
I was already worth a hundred thousand dollars; in the midst of my
exultation I heard my wife's voice on the stairs, and my joy oozed out
of the hair of my head. I could only look at Tim and groan, and Tim did
the same; for, poor fellow, though only her brother, he was as much
henpecked as myself. "Never mind," said Tim, consolatorily; "your foot
will be well by-and-by, and then we shall have a jolly time together."
But my comforter took great care on such occasions to sneak out of the
house in good time, and so leave me to bear the evil by myself.
In the course of two weeks, or thereabouts, my foot had so far
recovered that I was able to put it on the ground, and hobble about a
little with a crutch; but I had lost all hope of ever being able to
resume my exercises in the field. I was therefore reduced to despair;
and my wife becoming more intolerable every day, I began to be so weary
of existence, that I was once or twice on the point of making away with
myself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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