I had inflicted several of these impressive lessons upon Mr. Smith. He had become so much horrified at their confusion, that I do believe he had fully reconciled himself to dust and dirt, as the better alternative. They were, to be sure, at some little cost of comfort to myself, and reflectively produced discomfort for him; for he traced, with a correctness which I could easier frown at than deny, many a week's indisposition to my house-cleaning phrenzy. And when a man's wife is sick, if, he is a man of feeling, he is unhappy. And if he is a man of selfishness, he is wretched, too; for what becomes of husband's little comforts, when wife is not able to procure or direct them? So Mr. Smith,--for the better reason, I believe--pure compassion--declared, long ago, against wholesale house-cleaning. And he has so often interfered in my proceedings with his provoking prophecy, "Now, you know, my dear, it will make you sick," that I have striven many a time to hide pain under a forced smile, when it seemed as if "my head was like to rend." Now, a woman _can_ carry her point in the house by stubborn daring, but "the better part of valor is discretion," and I have learned quietly to take my way, and steal a march upon him;--open the flood-gate--set the chimneys smoking--up with the carpets--throw the beds out of the windows--pack the best china in the middle of the floor distributing pokers and fire-shovels among it--unhang the pictures--set all the doors ajar--roll the children in dust--cover my head with a soiled night-cap--put on slip-shod shoes--and streak my ancles with dust and dirty water. Then, if he pops in opportunely, I can say, with Shakspeare--amended: I am in _slops_, Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er. And, then, husband has no choice but to retreat to a chop-house, and leave me to finish. But the chance for a grand saturnalia is best when Mr. Smith goes from home for a day or two. Then I can deny myself to visitors--take full license--set the hydrant running, and puzzle the water commissioners with an extra consumption of Schuylkill. My last exploit in this way was rather disastrous; and I am patiently waiting for its memory to pass away, before I venture even to think of repeating it. Mr. Smith had business in New York--imperative business, he said,--but I do believe it might have waited, had not Jenny Lind's first appearance taken place just then. This by the way. He went, and I was rejoiced to improve the opportunity, for it occurred precisely as I was devising some method to get myself so fairly committed to soap and brushes, that objection or interdict would be too late.