In big business, in society, and in the kitchen

If I ever wrote a book, I would give it the title “How to Be a Model Husband,” and in it I would explain how a man must master himself and not be wounded by the least thing; how he should occupy himself repeating his friends' telephone numbers — in his heart — when his wife comes back from a business trip and starts telling him about the pleasures she enjoyed; and how to act thus-and-so in such-and-such cases.

I would speak, for instance, of my hour for going to bed; for the matter does not end with my putting on pajamas and slipping under the sheets. It very often happens that at the very minute when I lean back on my pillows, a delightful book in my hand, my wife beside me reading a fashion magazine, a telegram sent by telephone rings through. And the telegram — in her name, of course — says:

“Shipping tomorrow nine dozen bengaline dresses.”

Dibuth

And so the magic of the atmosphere is broken... But my wife, who is a wife of complete femininity, gently humors my pride and says:

- An unimportant matter, this story of the nine dozen bengaline!!! Nothing in the world matters to me but you.... And as a matter of fact — did the telephone say how the goods are to be shipped?

As for being introduced to my wife's friends — that is quite an affair...

An ordinary wife says to people simply, “May I present my husband.” But in my case the mention of my name calls for several explanations... It happened last week that I came upon my wife in a restaurant, lunching with some friends, and I began asking myself whether it

was better to go up to her and appear in the guise of a husband of the old style, or to hide behind a newspaper at a distant table. I chose the first course, and my wife introduced me by my name, and a moment later she cried:

- You're not cross with me, darling? I charged you this morning with taking delivery of the wine! When I went out you were asleep, so I figured you would be at home when they came to deliver it.

And I felt that the two guests had not understood who I was. So she added:

- He's my husband — didn't you understand? He works in...