The Cheerful Smugglers by Ellis Parker Butler

If a man really likes to wipe dishes, while his wife washes them, there is no better time for friendly confidences, and for the arrangement of difficulties. Diplomatists win their greatest battles for peace at the dinner-table, because the dinner-table gives abundant opportunity for the "interruption politic. " When the argument reaches the fatal climax, and the final ultimatum is delivered, a boiled potato may still avert war: "Now, me lud, I ask you finally, will your government, or won't it? That is the question," and from the opposing diplomat come the words, "Beg pardon, your ludship, but will you kindly pass me the salt? Thanks! Don't you think the butter is a little strong? " and war is averted. Postponed, at least.

Just so over the dish-wiping; the hard and fast logic of who's right and who's wrong is interrupted and turned aside by timely ejaculations of: "Oh, I did wipe that cup! " or interpolated questions, as: "Have you washed this plate yet, my dear? " A wise man who finds himself cornered can always drop one of the blown-glass tumblers on the floor -- they only cost five cents -- or ask, innocently: "Did I crack this plate, or was it already cracked? " By a judicious use of these little wreckers of consecutive speech Mr. and Mrs. Fenelby, over the dishes, reached a perfect understanding and forgot their quarrel.