Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1848-04-06

the certainty that she was not long for this scene
she redoubled her exertions to put her little
household in order. She repaired and made
clothes for her child, and, as she laid them away,
emhalmed them with her tears. In the same
manner her needle toiled for her husband, and
the savings which her frugality effected were
employed to purchase him sundry little comforts
"These will keep him warm when | am cold,
she thought; che will little think that while ne
forgot me, for better company tits true, my only
happiness was to remember him, and that shall
, scarcely be more solitary in the grave to which
| am going, than | have been in the home toI
which he brought me-"
Sometimes little ink bottle was taken from
the mantcI-shef and a sheet of paper from her
little table-drawer, and then, with effort, few
lines were traced, and the paper hidden carefully
away, as if she had committed a crime. One
night she had made more endeavors of this kind
than usual, and the struggling, unasssted spirit
of intelligence was burning in her bright hazel
eye and glowing on her beautiful cheek, when
she was startled by an unusual noise. The pa
per was hurried into the drawer the ink bottle
restored to the Shelf and taking the CANDLE she
went cut to the landing-place. She beheld her
husband assisted by two men, slowly ascending
the stairs, He had met with an accident; had
broken his arm-it had been set--he had faint
ed during the operaton-and, with the ghastly
aspect incident to such circumstances, appeared
before her.
This event Frustrated Philip Morris for some
time, during which Susan nursed him with unre-
hitting care. 1t was long before he WIS able to
return to work. but his employers were liberal
and considerable, and did not forget in his weak
ness the man who had toed for their advantage
in his days of health and strength. But though
unable to pursue his manual labors, Philip Nor
ris soon made an effort to get abroad in search
of mental occupation and social enjoyment
He vent to his club, to the Mechanics Insti-
tutc, to the cohee-shops where he could find the
best selected books and the most newspapers
All this was well done; he nobly determined to
rescue himself from becoming the mere machine
Of toll, the drudge for so much crash as eau be
grasped thus" Alas! had he but thought of her
whom he promised to love and cherish till death
should part thcm-had he considered whether
She had not a soul Of equal value with his own,
perhaps an intellect as capable of repaying cu-
ture-then had he been twice bessed-bessed
in the act and its reaction. But sclhshly dcvo-
ted to his own objects Of pursuit, habituated
to the wan looks of his quiet wife, he failed to
perceive that her cheek grew paer, and her
voice weaker; not that he had been insenslble or
indifferent to her care and anxiety during his
Illness but with renovated health he returned to
his cid habits, and, accustomed to receive sacri-
fees without making any, he snned against
] gratitude and good feeling almost unconsclously.
Gradually Susan found herself unequal to even
the daily walk with little Philip or the effort OF
going up and down stairs, and then there was
some talk of her returning home for time, and
trying the effects of her native air. She smiled
ecbly as this was spoken Of yet left it unattempt-
! ed; she knew that she was going to farther and
9 better home, and often did she wish to say as
nucM but she was not eloquent Of words, nor
q sufficiently strong in spirits, and after two or
three irutIess attempts she desisted and pursu-
cd, as far Us she was able, the even tenor Of her
! way.
Philip Morris recovered his health, and was
restored to work and full wages again he talked
Of the country for Sasan, and insisted on her
= trying new doctor; he sought to tempt her APP
petite by such rartlcs as he could afford, but
still he could not resign his own peculiar habits
and cujoyments, and among the evils these en-
r tailed were late hours Onc night he returned
home as usual about midnight, when on opening
the room door, instead of the small bright fire
the trimmed candle, and the pale, patient worker
he was accustomed to behold, all was darkness
and silence. lie paused momentum hides
criblbIe sensation Of cold crept over his frame;
and fear, like a paralysis invaded his heart; at
. legth he cXcllimcd-"S Susan; Susan, my dear"
r. There was no rcply he stepped farther into the
! r0om he repeated her name yet louder all was
still He CROPPED his way to the frc-place-on
the mante-shelf he found box of uciier-mntch-
es-obtaiued light, and lighted candle, lie
now beheld Susan, with her hand resting on the
! table, seated in her usual place. He approach
4 ed aud took her hand-O Heaven! its icy cold
] ncssl He flung himself on his knees on the
floor, and looked up into her face; there was a
sweet placid smile upon the lips, for forgving,
gentle spirit had passed from them, but the eyes
J we're fixed and-Susan was dead-had been
- dead some hours. The distracted man rushed
, down stairs, alarming all the inmates Of the
u house as he passed A medical man va, soon
present, and the chamber in which that young
creature had almost lived and died alone, was
thronged by crowd, any one Of whom, inspired
by better social system, would willingly have
sustained her to longer life, or cheercd the
e brief time that had been allotted her All were
E horror-sruck, and one heart-struck; particularly
when the child, awakened bv the tumult, scram-
Utu buC VI uiS llltC HCNl, Gnu lNohCh IVA Ii'ICS-
ton to his leless mother Not even that voice,
! eloquent as it had ever been to her, could AVA
, ken her again The surgeon declared that her
r death had been sudden aud from natural causes,
but that it was case which demanded an In
quest.
, An inquest was held. Among the evidence
was asngularly affecting memorial; twas the
! little journal which Susan had for some time
q kept like the poor dungeon prisoner who daily
i notchcs stick that he may be able to number
, the monotonous days of his captivity, The an
gel of death had arrested her hand Just as it had
feebly traced the following words:
sit will not be long now--my chd--my poor little
Il Phiip He who calls away your mother will care fol-
- you; Philip Morris, my husband, my dear huband,
= wish you were beside me now. You have been good
< and kind, and generous, and was not the wife you
J. should have had. Be kind father to our child when
:, am gone. You wil-yes, surely you will one day
r take another wife. Philip that which you never gave
" to me, give to heryour society," your counsel If SHE
u has been unaught, teach her-at least do not leave
q her to continual loneliness. You never knew it ant
y therefore cannot tell how sad the long dull hours