From the Relief Society Magazine, April 1919 –

The Funny-Bone Route

By Ruth Moench Bell

“I’ll have to get the raiment for the ‘Little White Bird.’ Edith Sherrill spoke diffidently, well knowing how Arch would take it. “I’ve put it off till the last minute. There is so much hand work. And hand embroidery is so much more beautiful and inexpensive than lace or embroidery one can buy.”

“Oh, cotton goods are so high just now. Better wait a few weeks.” Arch dismissed the matter easily. “Peace is here. No more cotton for munitions. It’s bound to drop.”

Archie Sherrill had a comfortable masculine assumption that the time to face any difficulty was when the difficulty was actually upon one. No preparedness for him! No crossing bridges before the bridge loomed up in sight. No cutting kindlings the night before or saving for a rainy day. Such care-free, take-no-thought- for-the-morrow existence resulted in an easy good nature that made Edith almost envious of her big, jolly husband.

And yet there are matters that cannot be postponed, as Edith very well knew. The quick tears sprang to her eyes after her husband had kissed her good-bye and hastened to his daily work.

“What ‘little white bird,’ mother?” Archie Junior enquired Edith caught him to her heart. “It’s a wonderful little white soul that flutters down from heaven into the arms of some mother waiting to receive it,” she exclaimed.

“And why does it need —”

“Raiment?” she supplied.

“I thought birds had feathers and wings.”

“Little White Birds have to give up their feathers and wings when they come to the waiting mothers,” Edith explained.

“Else would they fly back to heavenly Father?” Archie Junior asked.

“I’m afraid they would, dear,” the mother clasped her five year old boy close with that passion of tenderness an expectant mother feels for her brood.

Scarce three months and the Little White Bird would flutter into its nest. And there wasn’t even a tiny shirt to put on her. Edith was sure it would be her. Archie did so need a small sister. And Archie, boy fashion, had gone through every fragment of clothing she had provided for him so there was not even a left-over.

Edith looked into her purse. Nothing there except the change she had “forgotten” to hand back to Arch when tradesmen had presented their bills, as they had a habit of doing, just at meal time. Tradesmen are quick to discern which carries the purse, and present their bills accordingly. Edith had sufficient perspicacity to know why bills came when her husband was at home, and it was as humiliating as it was to turn to her husband for change in the stores. But what could she do when Arch took such a boyish delight in slipping his hand into his pocket as though the pile of coins there had fathomless depths, and handing out the money with a Squire Bountiful air that was truly remarkable considering how little there actually was in that pocket.

“If I could only have my position back for one month,” Edith sighed, “sixty-five dollars a month for a few hours a day of stenography and type-writing seems wondrous wealth now.”

It was almost as much as Archie’s eighty dollars is worth. In fact, sixty-five dollars for one was considerably more than eighty dollars for three. Still eighty dollars would have done if only Arch had not assumed the sole right to spend it.

“Sixty-five dollars! Just one sixty-five dollars would give enough for the layette and several incidental expenses besides. To earn it, I would have to leave Archie, Jr., with some one else all day,” she reflected.

Leave Archie, Jr., all day ! Edith caught him to her jealously. Let some one else tie up his precious fingers when they got cut! Some one else kiss his bruises and hear his marvelous plans and adventures ! Why just one hour with him was worth several thousand sixty-five-^dollar checks. And besides, no one would engage her as stenographer now! It was just as well! She was not asking any one !

Still, somehow, the layette must be purchased. And nothing would jolt Arch out of his complacence save a sale or the arrival of the tiny creature.

Evening came and with it Arch, his arms full of parcels, his face beaming like a Santa Claus. He did so enjoy spending like a prince. One glance at his face and arms and Edith’s resentment vanished. It always did. How she loved his big hands and broad shoulders and strong arms and his unquenchable good-nature.

“Something to .surprise you,” he exclaimed giving her a hearty kiss in which personal satisfaction and anticipation of her pleasure were the chief factors.

“I swept up the whole counter at Longbecks. They had a sale on ready-to-wear children’s clothes and I made them a lump price on the lot. There must be loads of stuff you could make over for Archie, Jr.”

Edith viewed the parcels with dismay. Arch’s last purchase had been a pair of rompers for which he had paid $1.85. She could have bought better goods and made them for one third of that amount. The rompers had faded in the first wash and had not been good to look at before that.

Then there was her kimona when she had the automobile accident and had to be taken to the hospital. Arch had brought it to her with glowing eyes and no one but a man could possibly have selected it. Edith had got Arch’s sister, Meg, to exchange it without Arch’s knowledge. And how Arch had adored her in the dainty garment that he never suspected was not his own choice. Part of his adoration had been his pride in himself for his generosity in anticipating her need and buying unasked ! And then the compliment to his selection ! She certainly did look squeezable in it.

And Edith, well how could a woman be vexed with a big, good-natured, over-grown boy like that? Hence, her eyes beamed into his. What matter how or why he arrived at his love? He loved her, that was all that really counted. “Carry all your domestic troubles over the ‘funny-bone route,'” had been her grandmother’s parting laugh. “A woman’s wit and sense of humor will always solve her love troubles and help her to keep them love troubles.”

“Well, it was easy this time,” Edith reflected, trying not to laugh, determined not to cry, as she saw parcel after parcel un- folded, Arch proudly displaying his remarkable purchase. Almost enough money to have bought the layette had bought those same bargains. And, aside from one linen coat which Archie, Jr., might wear the next summer, every item would have to go to The Relief Society Extension committee who might find some one destitute enough and desperate enough to make use of it.

And the hole it made in the week’s wages ! How closely they must economize till next pay day !

After a desperate attempt to rejoice with Arch, Edith served the evening meal, put Archie, Jr., to bed and sat down with the table-cover she was embroidering.

“Some embroidery,” Arch admired as he noted it grow. “It will be worth a neat little sum of money when it is finished, won’t it? How much, say?”

“About fifteen dollars,” Edith responded. She would have preferred to be embroidering little slips for the small fairy who was to brighten their home.

“It will look great on our table. I’ll sure be proud to show it to our friends,” Arch concluded.

Then suddenly, without warning, Edith began to laugh.

“What’s the joke?” Arch laughed.

“Oh, something just got over my funny-bone,” Edith smiled. “By the way, were there any sales on white goods today?”

“I didn’t notice any,” Arch sobered. “But they’ll come.

“I hope, in time,” Edith smiled demurely.

“Sure bet,” Arch declared.

“Then we’ll wait even if the little white bird doesn’t,” Edith smiled.

She was smiling far into the night as she sat alone embroidering the table cover. And she hadn’t lost the smile as she still embroidered at the sewing circle the next day.

Whatever occasioned the smile was interrupted by an exclamation from Nancy Jackson, when Helen Smith entered in an elegant new set of furs.

“Such war-time extravagance!” Nancy chided.

“Not at all,” Helen laughed. “These are a penitential check from my husband.”

“In other words, you had ‘words,'” commented the outspoken Nancy. “And you looked aggrieved and unhappy so the poor man wrote out a check to appease his offended goddess. And like as not the goddess provoked the quarrel on purpose to get the furs.”

“Wonderful guess,” Helen applauded. “And likewise something of a confession.”

“Not at all,” Nancy confessed. “I’ve seen it worked. Every woman has her method. I happen to be blessed with a husband
v/hose memory is short. Hence I explain my financial shortness by ringing in the same items over and over. One month, for instance, I must buy a certain thing and the next month I must pay for it. And thus I manage to subtract enough to get what I want.”

“How shocking!” Freda Houston remonstrated. “How can you love your husband and — well, work him that way?”

“A bride of a month has much to learn,” Nancy laughed.

“Why, even the wealthiest men are somewhat near with cash,” Mrs. Farnham interposed. “I have a cousin who is married to a man whose income is up in the thousands. He simply lavishes gifts on friends and spends like a millionaire, but his wife has to keep the change when the tradesmen present their bills as they always do at meal-times. She manages to have guests at the table most of the time so he won’t dare ask for the change.”

Edith’s face went crimson. Did every one have that opinion of her husband also?

“How can she keep from hating her husband ‘when he is so unjust to her?” Freda pursued. “And besides, such methods must be harmful to the children.”

“But what is a woman to do?” Nancy enquired. “It is even worse if a woman earns after her marriage. Then she has no excuse for asking for a cent. It almost separated Tom and Norma. I’ve heard him tell her ‘to dig up for the gasoline,’ if she wanted a ride in the car he bought, because she was supporting the home with her earnings. If their eldest daughter hadn’t run away with a peddler, while her mother was clerking, and nearly married him, and so shocked them and brought them together, they’d have been divorced long ago.”

“But I thought all homes were run now on the budget system,” Freda protested. “Dick and I talked it over long before we were married and decided the amount we should save each week, the sum each should have for personal expenditures. The table, clothing, amusements, charities, education, etc., each has its own fund. It really is fun to go over our accounts every pay-day,” Freda blushed, “pay-day is reckoning and dividing day with us. And really, it is so sweet to share and consider each other and go over it all together.”

Edith looked up gratefully to the wise little bride, who believed in her husband, and had not built her home on the treacherous sands of deceit and beggary.

“It would be better if a couple started out that way,” Nancy agreed, “but it would be frightfully hard to get around to it afterward. And really it is the rock on which half the matrimonial barques go down. A woman feels so resentful when her husband doles out charity pennies to her, and flings dollars about for himself.”

“Yes, and it takes all the joy out of life if a woman can not plan and save for personal desires and ambitions for the home and children,” Helen added. “But as Nancy says, what can we do if we get started wrong?”

“There is always the funny-bone route,” Edith laughed. “The way to a man’s heart is by means of his stomach, and the way to his pocket-book is over the funny-bone route. Every man has a sense of humor, and enjoys being out witted by his wife. Grandma always said.”

Edrth was wondering if the funny-bone route was going to succeed for her, as she worked on the table-cover as though her life depended on it. And indeed her eye-sight did depend on it, long before it was finished. Arch’s concern was not alone for his pocket-book, though the occulist relieved him of something like twenty-five dollars before Edith was successfully fitted with glasses. Arch had always admired his wife’s beautiful eyes. And now to gaze at their luminous depths always aglow with love for him, through blinds, as he called the obscuring lens, was almost more than he could bear. The one grain of comfort was the occulist’s assurance that after the effects of the strain had been overcome she would again be able to do without them.

“Any sales yet?” Edith would ask demurely, whenever she saw that Arch was taking the glasses too seriously. At which Arch would wince but assure her doggedly that they would come.

And come they did. But the little white bird came first.

“What are we to do?” Arch exclaimed in dismay after he had phoned for the doctor. “Haven’t you any clothes whatever for him — her — it?”

“There are some little shirts and two diapers that Archie left,” Edith assured him.

“Well don’t let the nurse know. Just have her wrap him — her — it — in my bath-robe till I can get into a store.”

“What shall I get first,” Arch whispered after his new — daughter had been snugly wrapped in his bath-robe and the mother had been made comfortable. Edith suppressed a smile through her pain.

“Nighties,” she whispered back.

Soon he was back his face beaming. The nurse discreetly left the room guessing by his expression that he wanted to be alone with his wife.

“Here are some beauties,” he proclaimed proudly. “You’ll really be glad you waited. They are knitted.” And he displayed them with a flourish.

“Lovely,” Edith exclaimed. “How much?”

“Two dollars apiece.” Arch replied.

“Oh, Arch ! But we need four of them, at least. That would be eight dollars just for nighties. It is almost enough to buy the entire outfit.”

Arch’s enthusiasm dwindled.

“Take them back. dear, and tell the clerk they won’t do.” Edith advised.

“But the girls were giggling before,” Arch deplored. “They’ll guy the life out of me this time.”

“But we really can’t afford to keep them, dear,” Edith replied gently. “There are so many necessary expenses.”

It was an Arch that had dropped considerably in spirits that returned presently with another bundle.

“I found just the ticket,” he exclaimed, albeit somewhat dubiously. “An entire lavette, if that’s what you call it, only nine dollars.”

Edith fingered the garments trying not to wound his feelings, but unable to admire the cheap materials and cheaper laces. Then there was such a medley of non-essentials and a meager supply of essentials. And everything was so impersonal and unworthy of her beautiful daughter.

“I’ll get Meg to take them back, dear,” she sighed. “You can see that it sometimes is necessary to prepare in advance.”

“Yes, and there are some things it is better to let a woman buy,” Arch conceded, very much relieved that he did not have to face those giggling shop-girls again. “Wouldn’t it be better if we divided bur small income between us some way?”

“We might try the budget system,” Edith suggested.

“The very thing,” Arch agreed. “All modern families are run that way. Then we can tell exactly where we are all the time.”

Arch stole a penitential glance at Edith. It was so sweet of her to forgive him so easily and harbor no ill-will, in fact not even to lecture him. In response Edith reached up her arms and drew his head down for a kiss. “Bring over the hamper with the blue bow on it,” she whispered.

Arch brought the basket and lifted the lid as Edith directed.

A dainty display of baby garments greeted his eyes. Everything

a baby could need was there in fine materials and beautifully

made. A mother’s brooding love was woven into each tiny item.

‘ “How did you do it?” Arch puzzled.

“I sold the table-cover,” Edith replied.

Arch closed the lid and the quick tears sprang to his eyes. “You ruined your eyes to make that table-cover and then sold it and — ”

“Got fifteen dollars,” Edith finished. “And we paid the occulist twenty-five.”

Arch laughed mirthlessly. “And every time I look at you I have to look through those windows.”

“I hated to do it, dear,” Edith breathed. “And hated most of all to deceive you, but I couldn’t let us spoil our lives over a few miserable dollars. And I had to find some way to do so I took Grandmother’s advice and tried the funny-bone route.”

Arch caught her hands and kissed them. “Any other woman would have hated me forever,” he exclaimed, folding her tenderly in his arms.