time, half my parlor chairs had been rendered useless in consequence
of the back-breaking and seat-rending ordeals through which they had
been called to pass. The sofa was unanimously condemned to the
dining room, and the ninety cent carpet had gone on fading and
defacing, until my wife said she was ashamed to put it even on her
chambers. For repairs, our furniture had cost, up to this period, to
say nothing of the perpetual annoyance of having it put out of
order, and running for the cabinet maker and upholsterer, not less
than a couple of hundred dollars.

Finally, I grew desperate.

"I'll have decent, well made furniture, let it cost what it will,"
said I, to Mrs. Jones.

"You will find it cheapest in the end," was her quiet reply.

On the next day we went to a cabinet maker, whose reputation for
good work stood among the highest in the city; and ordered new
parlor and chamber furniture--mahogany chairs, French bedstead,
dressing-bureau and all, and as soon as they came home, cleared the
house of all the old cheap (dear!) trash with which we had been
worried since the day we commenced housekeeping

A good many years have passed since, and we have not paid the first
five dollar bill for repairs. All the drawers run as smoothly as
railroad cars; knobs are tight; locks in prime order, and veneers
cling as tightly to their places as if they had grown there. All is
right and tight, and wears an orderly, genteel appearance; and what
is best of all the cost of every thing we have, good as it is, is