Her Troublesome Husband by Ruth Collie — Read

"If only," she said (and wistful her eyes), "my husband would take a / pride in his ties; but somehow he makes them look like a string. / I've pleaded, I've bullied, I can't do a thing. He'll never look / smart or stylish, I fear -- and yet, all the same, he's really a dear! " / "Now why should he wear, year in and year out, his hat of grey felt / the wrong way about? And why, when he fastens his cardigan vest, he / should miss the first buttonhole, I've never guessed. And then he's / surprised there's one button to spare! I plead or I lecture, but he / doesn't care. He'll never look smart or stylish, I fear -- and yet, / all the same, he's really a dear! " "If all his pockets were merely / for looks, and not for his scissors and pencils and books; for / matches, for pouch, for pipe and for knife -- he'd not look a lumpy / disgrace to his wife. If he'd brush his clothes sometimes, use / hangers at night, he'd look like our neighbour, so smart -- a delight! / He'll never improve, not the slightest, I fear; but yet, I assure / you, he's really a dear. "