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PETERSON’S MAGAZINE.

Vol. XXVII. THE HUSBAND'S RUSE.

BY E. W. DEWEES.

Two handsome children—a boy of twelve, and a girl of ten years of age, were wandering together about a garden. They carried between them a great wicker basket, which they were filling with the choicest of the flowers, and { exclamations of delight and exultation burst forth, as a bud or blossom more beautiful than { its fellows, was added to the glowing collection which already graced the basket.

All was pleasant and harmonious, till the boy, Pemberton Walton, chanced to say,

"Look, Louisa, did you ever see such a beautiful rose ? I declare, " he added, laughingly, as he held it beside her face, " it's even prettier than you are yourself!"

Louisa's face flushed angrily; she pushed the rose away, exclaiming with a pout,

"I hate roses !"

Pemberton laughed, as he replied good-naturedly, " No, you don't, Lou, you only don't like their beauty to be praised at the expense of yours. Ah, Lou, Lou, jealous of rose!"

But Louisa's pretty face remained clouded, and it was not till her companion's unfailing good-humor had borne a pretty severe test, that she deigned once more to smile and be agreeable. Ten years later saw that same boy and girl united as husband and wife.

Time had made little change in them. The disposition of each remained as in childhood. Pemberton, the gay, careless boy, was equally open and good-natured as a man. And Louisa, with much that was amiable and good, still retained her besetting sin-her jealous, exacting temper.

It was impossible but that Pemberton should be fully aware of this unlovely fault in the "lady of his love, "for it had been hers all her life, and many a time and oft, had he been forced to mote it during their courtship ; but he had the advantage of knowing also Louisa's many fine and noble qualities, and he thought he was able to estimate exactly what risk he ran in trusting his happiness to her keeping. Besides, his almost unfailing good-humor enabled him to bear with, or laugh off her jealous fancies, as few men could, or would have done, and he hoped that his devotion, and her own good sense would, in time, cure her of her folly. For a month or two after marriage, even Louisa was satisfied in the exclusive devotion of her husband lover. But when the wedding tour was over, and two honeymoons were passed, and the young husband, as was inevitable in the nature of things, began to return to old pursuits and occupations, Louisa was unable to endure this abridgment of her prerogatives- she could not bear to feel that she was but one of many objects of interest to her husband, when she had once been all in all. She gave herself up to fit after fit of jealous wretchedness ; tormenting her truly kind and forbearing husband, and annoying herself almost sick. Did Pemberton come home half an hour late to dinner, or tea, he was sure to find his wife in a fit of the pouts, occasioned by his cruel desertion and neglect. Did he chance to omit the slightest attention or caress, to which she had been accustomed, she was certain to notice it, and he was often surprised by a shower of tears, the cause of which he could not even guess. Worst crime of all was it, he found, to profess ignorance on such occasions- that was but adding insult to injury. Do what he would, say what he would, unless he was entirely occupied with Louisa, to the exclusion of all other objects and thoughts, he found himself adjudged a cruel monster, guilty of making a fond and lovely wife " very unhappy." In vain he sought by every reasonable concession, by playful raillery, and fond assurances