in a cotton dress," said Mrs. Plum polishing off the last of the bon-bons, "while I go off and enjoy myself at the convention." And having done away with the last lemon drop, she got on to her face the exact expression of one who has just thoroughly blown their nose. "That is what we will do," she said. "I will make you stay at home for a week and work in cotton dresses while I attend the convention and accustom myself to spending money in the shops of a distant and romantic city.'
"
"Oh, dear me!" said Mr. Plum. "It would never work. I am all packed and ready to go and the produce manager is waiting for me at the corner. Besides, there are a thousand things. You'd never
guess--
#
"Fiddle and twaddle, said the lady. She brooked no argument since argument appeared as insolence to her. "I will pick up the produce manager and use him as my guide. Do not worry about a thing."
Accordingly, Mr. Plum was dressed in a cotton dress and made to walk about in a pair of "sensible shoes". He was made to sit "Now
quietly as his wife painted and powdered and lectured him. you will see, she said, "what it is like to be a poor housewife. And just so you don't try and weasel out of anything I am taking your clothes with me--ALL of them?" After taking Mr. Plum's cloth- ing, and all of their money from the cookie jar in the kitchen, she snapped a spiteful admonishment at him concerning the curtains end drove off. blotting the last bit of chocolate from her thin lips.
Mr. Plum, an adaptable man, resigned himself to what was in- evitable and spent an awkward day in a cotton dress which did not fit right. He was relieved that night to be rid of it and to slip into a nightgown. The gown was sheer and feminine and it made him feel strangely giddy. At least, he reflected it was not awkward, Wearing the gown to bed, however, unnerved him and as soon as be arose in the morning he covered both himself and the gown with a long robe of quilted satin. But the robe, swirling about his legs as he moved through the kitchen, only unnerved him more.
"
After the third cup of coffee he accepted the fact that he couldn't wear a robe all day. But he also knew, with a certain defiant acceptance of his position, that he would NOT return to that ill-fitting cotton print and those horrible shoes. Caught squarely in this dilemma he cautiously slid back the folding doors of the first of his lady's closets.
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