The independent press. (Abbeville C.H., S.C.) 1853-1860, 1856-08-15
A Word to fretful Wives.

There you arc, with your month puck
cred up again. What's the matter, are
our friends all dead? No--well, have You
lost everything you ever owned-no 2-are
your children sick ?-Is your husband CROSSE
have you got the tooth ache =? Neither of
those and still as cross rs a young bear !!
We wonder how your family can endure
your presence These young hearts whose
sun you ought to below you chill them
with your frowns and pcttisllncss No
wonder they long TO get out of the house.
And now you have struck your little child
because he would not stop teasing. Friend !!
that blow fell on his soul aud left All indeli-
bic scar there. lie will feel it long after he
has forgotten it. Many years from now,
when your head has laid down in the grave,
that blow, given without cause-impatient-
ly, nngriiy, will do its work.
Why can't you be good natured 2 We're
you ever SO ? Memory points to the days
Of your girhood-se seldom the lines Of anger
distigured your brow then. And the man
who won your love, thought what happy
home she will make for me! How sweet it
will be to sit down by her side after the
cares of the day are over How beautiful
10 read for her plcasure-to be repaid by
smiles and kisses. And the home was ready
and the bride estahlished-but she proved
unworthy the trust rcposed in her. Instead
of meeting care with hearty laugh, and
"get behind Inc satan," you worried and
fretted and began to tell every little trouble
10 your eusband. 1t was not womanly it
betrayed weakness both of heart and mind.
Imperceptibly its influence crept into his
spirit, chilling it with worse chill than that
of death, till it made STROUD Of iron for
the disappointed heart, and the charm Of
love and family and home was gone.
"HTas once !"-how often those words
drop from your lips. Il was handsome
once-I was this, that and the other, once"
and why not now You yourself have
willed your own destiny-you have chosen
the scold's office; you must receive the
scold's deserts. A little philosophy, few
words brcathed to heaven for patience, n
resolute hope for tomorrow if to-day be
stormy-a great deal less selfishness-a de-
sire to make home sanctuary for yourself
and little ones as we'll as your husband-and
no day you have been happier, handsomer
and more beloved
Frctting sister in light affliction, let us
ask you few plain questions. Does a spir-
it Of faultfiuding tighten your caresa II
your bread is burned TO a cinder, does il
bring you good, light, sweet loaf, to sit
down and worry about ita If the baby is
croes, does it make him smile like an angel
TO shake him almost out Of existence9 II il
rains on washing day will your anatbamas
hurry out the sun till he stops right over
your clothes-line : But if your quick hands
turn to the flour barrel, to mould anothe,
loaf-if you sooti,e the weeping babe with
the sweet words Of mothers plying love
| il you devote your washing day to some ap
portioned work, how smoothly care will iron
down his features, and become your humble
slave instead Of the tyranical master ht
would bel
Ills not too late yet Surprise your hus
band with q smile-it will Be worth q, dol
larto sea his glance OF astopishment; holi
the salted water Of slough btfuinees in you,
mouth,. that you may Say nothing Nppleaa