The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-02-26
WESTERLY, r. l., FEBRUARY rs, 1852.

Houi III ono Colu. l. HC Woou o oil pulleu.
It's time I had some cut. If you want
any breakfast, you had better get up"
i Was Raymond dreaming' Was this a
voice of reproach, that came to him in his
sleep, with recollections of his wife that
had gone before him to the Spirit Land !?
Not so--it was voice from the wife that
dwelt with him in this sphere of existence,
that came to remind him of duties not
discharged, upon the performance of
which depended the satisfaction of those
desires which had intruded visions of feasts
upon his hours of rest All this he felt,
still he did not offer to leave his couch.
"Raymond Warren,' said the voice,
you left me yesterday without wood, to
help neighbor get wood for his wife, and
you went to bed last night without your
supper. You'll not get bit in this house
till you bring me wood to cook it with"
"There's plenty of chips" said Ray
mond, in paliation, rising on his elbow as
he spoke.
"Get up, then, and bring them into
the house," said the resolute wife. "I
didn't know you when we were mar
ried, but l know you now. [ know what
killed your first wife. You want to make
slave of me. I'll attend to my duties :;
but if you don't do your chores, the cattle
may starve, and you'll never get bite to
eat in the house unless you take it uncook-
ed, if you don't cut wood yourself or get
somebody to do it for you"
Raymond started bolt upright, and il
was not many minutes before he was al
the wood-pile Diligently did he work
until he had cut an armful, which, like ;
dutiful husband, for the first time in his
life, he carried into the kitchen.
His wife made no allusion to what ha(
) passed between them, and Raymond
: although burning with curiosity to know
where she had learned what she had re
, vealed to him, dared not commence con
versaton in relation to it. The train O
ills it might revive was fearful to the easy
, mans mind His breakfast was over, for.
getful of it's lesson, careless Raymond
wandered away from his home, his neces-
sary morning labors in the farm-yard un-
attended to, and his wood pile unvisited.
He returned home at noon, strong in the
faith that he should sit down to good din
ner, because he was one of those men who
thought that wife should always give her
husband good dinner, whether she have
anything to cook or not. Mrs. Warren had
enough to cook, but nothing to cook with /;
however, much to Raymond's satisfaction,
when he entered his home he found the
table spread, and he knew he should soon
be invited to take seat near it.
When the invitation came, he fastened
to his accustomed seat, lifted the cover
from q dish that he supposed contained
meat and truly there was meat, but just
as it came from the butchers. Raymond
was not a cannibal he looked at his wife
inquiringly; she appeared to be waiting
patiently to be served. He lifted the
cover of another dish; there were potatoes
just as they had been dug from the earth.
All the dishes that usually contained
victuals were covered. Raymond grew
suspicious, and he lifted the covers hastily.
There was bread, as it had come from the
tray; there were turnips that had never
been under the influence of fire; there
were apples handsomely sliced for sauce,
and there were numerous other edibles, but
none of them could Raymond eat. He
turned for consolation to a cup Of tea his
wife had deposited near his plate. There
were tea-leaves floating in his cup, but the
tea looked remarkably pale; nevertheless,
Raymond, by force of habit, blew it
vigorously to prepare it for his palate.
But when he put it to his lips, he found
that he had wasted his breath for the
water was as cold as when it came from
the spring.
Raymond was not a hasty man. He
pushed back his chair deliberately and
thought aloud:
In the name of Heaven, what does
this mean :"
Mrs. Warren, whose countenance during
this scene had worn sober aspect, now
smiled pleasantly, and answered: