Saving Matches | AdventAI

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Feb 21, 1884

Saving Matches.

"This is the second match I have picked up in this house to-day," said Paul Yardley, with considerable severity in his tone. "It is a very bad sign, indeed, Matilda, with regard to our prosperity. If one is not saving in these small matters, no matter how large the income is, one can never get on in life. I have often spoken of having one of those mantel vases filled with lamp-lighters, so we need not use so many matches, but for some reason I never get these things attended to. I am sorry to say it, Matilda, but we are running behind in our affairs, and I must be allowed to repeat a remark I heard a man make yesterday, 'A man must ask his wife's leave to thrive.'"

So saying, Paul lighted his cigar with the air of a man who had discharged a weighty duty. He felt that he had given a fitting rebuke to his wife's wastefulness, and he walked away to his shop completely satisfied with himself.

Matilda went about her accustomed duties with a slightly depressed air, as Aunt Sylvia could not help observing.

Aunt Sylvia was making a visit at the house of her nephew, and could not help taking mental notes of much that went on around her.

She was Paul's mother's sister, and had tried to do her duty by the boy when he was growing up, but she felt that somehow she had missed a point or two. She quietly resolved that she would do her best to supplement former deficiencies before she went home. She would open Paul's eyes a little, so that he might take a more just view of himself and his wife, if it were in her power to do it. Not being of his "wife's relations" it was easier for her to speak out.

Besides, she had a few thousand dollars to leave to somebody, and that gave weight to her opinions among all her nephews and nieces, not to speak of their parents. So it happened on that rainy evening, as Matilda was hushing the baby to sleep in the nursery, that Aunt Sylvia took occasion to have a little talk with Paul.

"So business does not go exactly to your mind these times, Paul," she remarked.

"Why no, auntie, not quite. We ought to make another payment on our house next month of fifty dollars, but I can't raise five dollars."

"What is the trouble?"

"Business is dull and it costs a great deal to keep house. I am not quite sure but boarding would be cheaper. I don't think Matilda understands saving quite as well as she ought. She does not mean to be wasteful, of course, but little leaks sink a ship."

"Just like every man since Adam's time," said Aunt Sylvia, a little tartly. "Always ready to throw the blame on a woman. Now I have been in your house above a week, and I am of the opinion that Matilda is a much more saving and prudent wife than you deserve."

"You always were hard on me, Aunt Sylvia," said Paul in an injured tone.

"None too hard for your good, Paul. If Matilda was a little more self-asserting and less patient with you, it would be to your advantage. I blame her for putting up with what you said this morning about that match. She should have spoken her mind to you plainly. Paul, how many matches do you suppose one cigar would buy? Hundreds. Thus every time you smoke a cigar you waste, in reality, hundreds of matches. If Matilda struck off a whole box to light her fire, it would not begin to compare with your wastefulness. I know you do not smoke less than three cigars a day. That is enough to keep your wife in matches for weeks, if not for months."

"Now paper lighters," she continued, "are all very well when you have children to make them. But a busy house-keeper's time is too valuable for such work. You remember the old proverb about saving at the spigot. You would have your wife continually on the look-out about these infinitesimal economies, while you squander dollars on trifles that you could better do without."

"The loss of a day to your business is another great waste. How many weeks pass without a holiday of some sort? Last week it was a journey by railroad, which cost you $3.00 fare, and I don't know how much more for dinner. This week, you know, you hired a horse to go with a friend into the country to see his new place. When has Matilda taken even half a day's holiday?"

"But a woman's place is at home, Auntie," said Paul, rather vexed at being cornered.

"And a man's place is at his business. It cannot go on all the same when he is away from it—that is, if he has any ability worth speaking of. Come, Paul, you must learn to be more reasonable, or I shall have to be ashamed of my share in your bringing up. Drop this habit of looking out for motes in your wife's eyes, and consider the beam in your own eye."

"So distinctly understand, my boy," said Aunt Sylvia, with her decided shake of the head which Paul knew so well, "not a penny of mine ever goes for cigar money or livery stable debts, except it is to take wife and child out for a drive. I am quite willing to have you call on me for that supply once a week. I expressly stipulate that the customary check which I send on Christmas, is to be spent to the last penny on Matilda herself, and I am to have the privilege of looking over her account book, with the items noted, when I come again."

"She will not have the slightest objections, and it will serve as a check to your teasing it all away from her. You see I don't forget how you used to tease your old auntie in former years, and I must try to make amends to your wife for spoiling you so badly."

The sound of a weary little foot on the stair put a stop to further conversation, and presently Matilda entered, and with all haste brought down the sewing-basket in an absent way, and forthwith was immersed in its contents.

Her finger's were nimble in spite of the day's hard work, and mended garments were laid out, neatly folded on the table, one after another, in a way that astonished Paul's newly opened eyes.

To think that she must work on and on for hours after his work was over, and he had never thought about it before! And he had been calling her wasteful, and all that, in return!

"I am an awful scamp, auntie," he said, suddenly, as he arose and picked up the basket and set it on the shelf, while Matilda followed him with bewildered eyes.

Auntie nodded approvingly, and Matilda inquired if Paul had gone crazy.

"No, dear; I am just coming to my right mind. No more work after this time of night, or I shall feel compelled to lose your thimble."

"I'm afraid your toes will be cold this winter if I don't—not to speak of poor little Frankie's."

"The fact is, dear, I am going to turn over a new leaf. I shall smoke fewer cigars, and with what I save buy new socks for baby and all of us. You shall not wear your life out mending these old things. You must work less, and take more recreation. Auntie here has been giving me such a dressing down as I haven't had since I was ten years old. Come, play me an old tune, dear, and show that you have forgiven me for being such an old bear."

Wise old auntie slipped away to write a letter she wished to mail in the morning, and gave the two their bright sitting-room all to themselves. It was the first of many bright evenings, and the two had never reason to regret the fortnight's visit from good Aunt Sylvia.—Agriculturist.