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Updated: June 12, 2025
Skratdj had not been a wife and a mother for fifteen years, to be snuffed out at one snap of the marital snuffers. As Mr. Skratdj leaned forward in his chair, she leaned forward in hers, and defended herself across the intervening couples. "Why, my dear Mr. Skratdj, you said yourself the weather had not been so promising for a week."
"The letter was addressed to you," said Mr. Skratdj. "I sent it to you by Jemima," said Mrs. Skratdj. "I didn't read it," said Mr. Skratdj. "Well, you burnt it," said Mrs. Skratdj; "and, as I always say, there's nothing more foolish than burning a letter of invitation before the day, for one is certain to forget." "I've no doubt you always do say it," Mr.
When the war of words waxed hottest at the dinner-table between his host and hostess, he would drive his hands through his shock of sandy hair, and say, with a comical glance out of his umber eyes: "Don't flirt, my friends. It makes a bachelor feel awkward." And neither Mr. nor Mrs. Skratdj could help laughing. With the little Skratdjs his measures were more vigorous.
"You were wishing you'd a sealskin jacket yesterday, when it wasn't half as cold as it is to-day," said Mr. Skratdj. "My dear William! Why, the children were shivering the whole day, and the wind was in the north." "Due east, Mrs. Skratdj." "I know by the smoke," said Mrs. Skratdj, softly, but decidedly. "I fancy I can tell an east wind when I feel it," said Mr. Skratdj, jocosely, to the company.
And so if a visitor kindly began to talk to one of the children, another was sure to draw near and "take up" all the first child's answers, with smart comments and catches that sounded as silly as they were tiresome and impertinent. And ill-mannered as this was, Mr. and Mrs. Skratdj never put a stop to it. Indeed, it was only a caricature of what they did themselves.
The married ones had more idea of how it really was, and wished in the name of common sense and good taste that Skratdj and his wife would not make fools of themselves. So it went on, however; and so, I suppose, it goes on still, for not many bad habits are cured in middle age. On certain questions of comparative speaking their views were never identical.
But they often said, "We can't think how it is the children are always squabbling!" It is wonderful how the state of mind of a whole household is influenced by the heads of it. Mr. Skratdj was a very kind master, and Mrs. Skratdj was a very kind mistress, and yet their servants lived in a perpetual fever of irritability that fell just short of discontent.
Skratdj rose higher in matrimonial repartee, and the children's squabbles became louder, and the dog yelped as if he were mad, and the maids' contest was sharper; whilst the snap-dragon flames leaped up and up, and blue fire flew about the room like foam. At last the raisins were finished, the flames were all put out, and the company withdrew to the drawing-room. Only Harry lingered.
Such as the temperature being hot or cold, things being light or dark, the apple-tarts being sweet or sour. So one day Mr. Skratdj came into the room, rubbing his hands, and planting himself at the fire with "Bitterly cold it is to-day, to be sure." "Why, my dear William," said Mrs. Skratdj, "I'm sure you must have got a cold; I feel a fire quite oppressive myself."
"Bless your life, no! Nothing half so pleasant! And not another word would the hot-tempered gentleman say on the subject. In the course of a few hours Mr. and Mrs. Skratdj recovered their equanimity. The punch was brewed in a jug, and tasted quite as good as usual. The evening was very lively. There were a Christmas tree, Yule cakes, log, and candles, furmety, and snap-dragon after supper.
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