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Updated: September 20, 2025
"You had better drop eight cents in the bank before you forget it," said Mrs. Fenelby. "Eight cents?" inquired Tom, quite at a loss to remember what he was to pay eight cents for. "Eight cents," repeated his wife. "For the candy. It is eighty cents a pound, isn't it? But it is a luxury, isn't it? That would be twenty-four cents!" "Yes, twenty-four cents," said Tom, smiling.
Fenelby had progressed pretty well through four of the sixteen sections of the Sunday paper, and Mrs. Fenelby had Bobberts washed and dressed and was in the kitchen preparing dinner, which on Sunday was supposed to be at noon, but which, this Sunday, threatened to be about two o'clock. Kitty threw off her hat and dropped her umbrella in the hall and rushed for the kitchen.
We won't miss the money that way. That's the beauty of an indirect tax: you don't know you are paying it. The government collects a little on one thing that is imported, and a little on another, and no one cares, because the amount is so small on each thing, and yet look at the total hundreds of millions of dollars!" "Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Fenelby. "Can we save that much for Bobberts?
"I do think of some things that other people do not think of," said Mr. Fenelby, rather proudly; "but that is because I accustom myself to use my brains." "But it is surprising how a little thing like this tariff counts up!" said Mrs. Fenelby.
Fenelby went to the city in the morning he gave Kitty's trunk checks to the expressman. When he returned to his home in the evening he found Kitty and Mrs. Fenelby on the porch, and Mrs. Fenelby was explaining to her visitor, for about the tenth time, the workings of the Fenelby Domestic Tariff.
I let her attend to the little details." The truth was that she managed him, and managed the house, and managed all their affairs. She took to the management naturally and Mr. Fenelby did not know that he was being managed. They were very happy. Mr. Fenelby turned toward his wife suddenly, still holding his pen in his hand. He had not written a word, but his face glowed.
You see if he doesn't pay the duty as soon as he gets in the house. Tom wouldn't want to smuggle them in, Mrs. Fenelby. You shouldn't think he would do such a thing. I'm I'm surprised that you should think that of Tom." Mrs. Fenelby looked at him doubtfully, and then glanced at Kitty's innocent face. She shook her head.
They would laugh at us and crow over us all their lives if we didn't. Especially after the fool I have made of myself with this voting nonsense," he added bitterly. Mrs. Fenelby sighed. The next morning dawned gloomily. The sky was a dull gray, and a sickening drizzle was falling, mixed with a thick fog that made everything and everybody soggy and damp.
"I think you are not not nice to go poking around under eaves and things, trying to find some blame to throw up to your wife! I wish you had never thought of your horrid tariff, and and " She put her handkerchief to her eyes, and a minute later went out of the room and up the stairs. Mr. Fenelby heard her cross the floor above him, and heard the creaking of the bed as she threw herself upon it.
Fenelby gathered his papers and his book together and pushed them wearily into the desk. Then he dropped into a chair and looked sadly at the floor. "Tom," said Laura, "can't we stop the tariff anyway?" "Oh, no!" said her husband disconsolately. "We can't do anything. We've got to go ahead with the foolishness until Kitty and Billy go.
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