Saturday morning visitor., 1848-08-05

goods, pays bills, and does a mornings
business, and is ready, with good appe-
tite, Tor his dinner. Mrs. Lundy has 70
60 to market, and returns home worn and
exhausted. Then at twelve run in Mag
gle, Willie and Mary, hungry as they can
be. The poor woman does all she can.
Well, at half past one, in stalks Mr.. Lun-
dy. Sarah, the cook, was Lehindhand.--
She let the fire go down, and tinner was
not ready al the regular hour; Mrs. Lun-
dy was in her chamber, suffering from
pain.
"ls it possible? Too bad too bad 7"
she heard him say, as he passed OH his
way up stalrs-at the dining-room lie saw
that the table was not set 81 wonder
what good it is for man 10 have house
Of his own, if he can: have things as he
peases ~
81 declare, Agnes, I'm out of all pa
tencc." he sand, entering her chamber
few minutes afterwards. II told you as
went away this morning, that wished
dinner al the hour. and there isn't even
the sign Of it ready. 1t really looks as if
II were done on purpose"
"lt | had the cooking 10 do, You should
never wait minute. But | can't always
make servants do as l please" said Mrs.
Lundy.
"That's all nonsense don't believe
word Of it. wonder how I'd get along
in my business ii were to lei my clerks
do as they liked. have certain order in
my business, and every subordinate has
his duties, and knows that they must he
done. Reduce all your house matters TO
a like order, and keep every one strictly
to her duty, and you will have things right,
but mol without"
"ii you had ignorant, careless, self
willed girls 10 deal wi'h, instead Of intel
Iigent clerks, you miehl find it as difficult
as do TO have all things in order"
"Send them away # they cont do as
YOU wish. I'd never keep girl in the
house an hour, if she didn't 90 every
thing as directed"
"You don't know any thing about il,
Mr.. Lundy. It's easy To say send off
your cook, if she is ten or twenty mlu-
uies too late with IA meal, or served il up
badly, or does any other thing shat is dis
orderly or Objectionable. But it is worse
10 have no cook than bad one; and as to
good ones, they are hard TO be found"
Mr.. Lundy met this with one Of his
sw weeping specimens of augmentation, and
completely silenced his wife.
But, said he, impatentlv, 81 cannot
wait your cooks movements: my busi-
ness must be attended TO,
And away he ilounced from the house.
In ten minutes the bell rang.
Tell Sarah that Mr.. Lundy couldn't
wait land | don't want any dinner" said
Mrs. Lundy TO the waiter.
This is ore days story in Mrs. Lun-
dy's life. Need we wonder that she sui-
Iered? Need we be startled that she was
killed by inches?
But no one suspected this-noi even
Mr.. Lundy himself The idea that he
was numbering his vile by slow, cruel
death, would have shocked him, and he
would have felt the ininalpn of such
thing as an objectionable outrage. And
such was really fact. He was murder
ing her!
Year after year her duties aud her tolls
increased. The history of day, That We
have given, was an epitome of the history
of her life. Mr.. Lurdy, wrapped up in
his schemes of gain, and rigid in his no.
ton Of order, pnnctuahty and formal pro-
prielies, had 10 real sympathy ior his
wife, and was ever complaining of the lit
lie irregularities OF his household, ever
adding to, instead of relieving, the OPP
pressive, wearying, and ever-recurring
duties that were bearing hei down. 1t
was common thing for him, robust, and
in high health, to sit in his easy chair,
with dressing gown and slippers, and ask
his tired wife, who could scarcely move
without pain, to hand him this, that, and
the other thing, TO ring The bell for The
servants, or even TO 20 up TO their cham
Der and bring him something from draw
er, to which he was not willing that DO
nestle should go.
Meeker, more patient, more loving in
her character grew Mrs. Lundy. BY
suffering she was purified. 1t made The
heart ache TO see her moving by the side
of her erect, ilorid, elasiic-treading hus-
band, more like ia pale, shadowy form than
real substance, and TO feel assured that,
in very little while the places that knew
her, and the children and friends that To-
we'd her, will know and love her no more.
At lest she died, and six little ones were
left without the afientionate care of mo-
iher. II her husband, who wept so BIT
terly at her early grave, did not murder
her, we know moi the meaning Of the word
murder. When il was too late, he could
remember her long sutierings, her pa
thence, her wrongs received at his hands
but while she lived, he was too selfish to
appreciate or properly care for her.