Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1845-06-12
here the widow slightly shuddered-'I shall
never forget my honeymoon

never forget my honeymoon
yes, me'm-but you were going to sa
what did dear master do then, me'm?'
'Swore like any trooper, Becky, Blu
sickness did him deal of good, said Mr.
Cramp.
Quite cured him at last, men Ant
then-but it's a common fau.-he did like
money little mem! and Becky paused.
The widow made no answer, but CLAN
cling at her maid-servant, drew long sigh
And what was the use mem? YOU
know he couldn't take it with him.
Here burst of light animated the wild
owls face, and she cried-the monysyllabIe
bubbIing from her heart-'No.'
4 wouldn't abuse the dead for the world
mem; bat people called him an old Jew,
said Becky.
lie wasn't that, Becky" answered the
widow, in the miIdest sweetest tone of re-
proof
But he did like to drive a bargain. He
did love more than his penn ORTIZ cried
Becky.
He was man OF the world, Becky
said Mrs Cramp.'
'Ha! MEN, said Becky, hardly know
ing the truth she uttered; if so many folks
wasn't what they call themselves, men o.
the world, the world, mem, wouldn't be
SO bad as it is.'
4 don't think the poor man left it worse
than he found it, observed the mans
widow.
'And then-if he wasn't dead would
say it-he used you like any Turk
1t was his fondness, Becky; at least
hope II was his londness.'
'Ha, mem I've said it agin and agin
you was too good for him. cried Becky.
My belief at the time was, that Mrs
Cramp had long been OF her maids opn.
ion. However, she merely answered
that's over now, Becky.
tits over and good thing, too; for al.
though nobody should speak i'll ofthe dead
II must say it worser man never lived.
Becky, don't distress me; come here.
With this meek reprooi, Mrs Cramp. ap
preached where l was lying, followed by
her maid. civil be a thousand pites,
said the widow, taking me gently in he,
hand.
Quite a sin, mem, TO do it, said
Becky,
and yet mus, go into weeds, sighed
the widow.
'All the better, mem; you do look SC
nice in black, cried the maid.
1t is clear, thought, l have been the
subject ofprevious conversation, and mis-
tress and maid are now discussing my tate
What would become fme?
"A thousand pities to dye it, Mrs CramT
still gazing at me-
Iirembled at the word through every
ilament. Dye me! What was | to fore
60, and so soon, the snowy purity of m!
outside? In the very beauty of my white
ness-in my exceIing candour-to be dy
ed pitch bIack!-for no fault of mine, bu
at the whim, the tyrannous caprice Of an
other TO be degraded to the negro!
And yet twill wear long time dyed,
unused Mrs Cramp.
'Does't show the dirt, to be sure, me IN
Still it's pity. Yet, l must be black
for atwelvemonth, Becky observed tn,
widow.
you must to be decent EN-, answered
the maid. Suddenly, however, she though
of probable escape, and added, 'unles
you marry afore MEM
Before twelvemonth! What do yol
think me Becky! Well, we shall see, salt
Mrs Cramp, laying me down again, ant
after few moments leaving me in soil
tude.
The last speech ofthe widow left me i
perplexty; for | knew not whether she ba
deferred the idea of again marrying within
the year, or Of submitting me to the dyer
mystery; whether she was again speedl
to don the bridal white, or | was to be in
mediately doomed to wear enduring dark
ness. passed a time Of restless misery
| am sure felt as man feels, condemne
by inevitable circumstances to be backen
ed for life, he himself no party 10 the in
putty. | felt the same anguish at III
thought Of losing my exterior whitenes
and being after time used in fifty diIe
ent Offices for the convenient reason, thi
the dirt gathered would not show. Ca
it be thus with men, | pondered! Altt
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