Her
“How do I keep John home of nights?” asked a Houston lady of a friend the other day.
“Well, I struck a plan once by a sudden inspiration, and it worked very nicely. John had been in a habit of going downtown every night after and staying until ten or o’clock. One night he left as usual, and after going three or four blocks he found he had forgotten his and came back for it. I was in the sitting room reading, and he slipped in the room on his tiptoes and came up behind me and put his hands over my eyes. John expected me to be very much , I suppose, but I only said softly, ‘Is that you, Tom?’ John hasn’t been downtown at night since.”