At last, however, we found a cosey little nest of a house, just built, and clean and neat as a new pin, from top to bottom.  It suited us to a T. And now came the next most important business—­selecting furniture.  My wife’s ideas had always been a little in advance of mine.  That is, she liked to have every thing of the best quality; and had the weakness, so to speak, of desiring to make an appearance.  As my income, at the time, was but moderate, and the prospect of an increase thereof not very flattering, I felt like being exceedingly prudent in all outlays for furniture.

“We must be content with things few and plain,” said I, as we sat down one morning to figure up what we must get.

“But let them be good,” said my wife.

“Strong and substantial,” was my reply.  “But we can’t afford to pay for much extra polish and (sic) filagree work.”

“I don’t want any thing very extra, Mr. Jones,” returned my wife, a little uneasily.  “Though what I do have, I would like good.  It’s no economy, in the end, to buy cheap things.”

The emphasis on the word cheap, rather grated on my ear; for I was in favor of getting every thing as cheap as possible.

“What kind of chairs did you think of getting?” asked Mrs. Jones.

“A handsome set of cane-seat,” I replied, thinking that in this, at least, I would be even with her ideas on the subject of parlor chairs.  But her face did not brighten.

“What would you like?” said I.

“I believe it would be more economical in the end to get good stuffed seat, mahogany chairs,” replied Mrs. Jones.

“At five dollars a-piece, Ellen?”

“Yes.  Even at five dollars a-piece.  They would last us our life-time; while cane-seat chairs, if we get them, will have to be renewed two or three times, and cost a great deal more in the end, without being half so comfortable, or looking half-so well.”

“Sixty dollars for a dozen chairs, when very good ones can be had for twenty-four dollars!  Indeed, Ellen, we mustn’t think of such a thing.  We can’t afford it.  Remember, there are a great many other things to buy.”

“I know, dear; but I am sure it will be much more economical in the end for us to diminish the number of articles, and add to the quality of what we do have.  I am very much like the poor woman who preferred a cup of clear, strong, fragrant coffee, three times a week, to a decoction of burnt rye every day.  What I have, I do like good.”

“And so do I, Ellen.  But, as I said before, there will be, diminish as we may, a great many things to buy, and we must make the cost of each as small as possible.  We must not think of such extravagance as mahogany chairs now.  At some other time we may get them.”

My wife here gave up the point, and, what I thought a little remarkable, made no more points on the subject of furniture.  I had every thing my own way; I bought cheap to my heart’s content.  It was only necessary for me to express my approval of an article, for her to assent to its purchase.