When Mr. Smith came home early one afternoon and discovered that his wife was not in to welcome him, he became highly indignant. Mrs. Smith was very fond of gadding about. She loved to play bridge and she loved to make calls and lend her voice to the cheerful chatter that arose to the accompaniment of clattering teacups. The indignant Mr. Smith decided, as many a sadder and wiser man has done, to teach his wife a lesson. With the aid of a couple of pillows, a suit of clothes, a hat and a pair of shoes, he evolved a remarkably life-like dummy. He placed it under Mrs. Smith’s bed, allowing the legs and shoes to protrude slightly. Then Smith secreted himself in the closet and waited. Mrs. Smith returned, beaming, from the party, and went to her dressing table to remove her hat. In the mirror her eyes fell on the two legs under the bed. Mrs. Smith gave one despairing shriek of horror and fled from the house. On the street, she hastened to the nearest policeman and breathlessly confided her terrible story. The policeman summoned assistance and followed her back to the house. Meanwhile Mr. Smith had removed all traces of the dummy and had started on a search for his eyeglasses. He had just discovered them under the bed where he dropped them while putting the dummy in place. When the policemen entered, hauled him from beneath the bed, swathed him in a sheet to quiet his frenzied struggles and bore him past the hysterical Mrs. Smith on the front porch to the station house. At first the sergeant would not listen to the poor man’s excuses, but at last he consented to send for Mrs. Smith. Then Mr. Smith had the pleasure of telling his wife just how it all happened.