M'arthur Democrat. (McArthur, Vinton County, Ohio) 1853-1865, 1857-01-01
this 81 love you" was not spoken
then and there.
A tirnh u-nnnan sits hnshinor To slean

this "l love you" was not spoken
then and there.
A tired woman sits bushing to sleep
her nesting babe. Beauty once made
that face radiant, perhaps, but all that
beauty has gone now. The blue eye
is dim and faded--the whole expires.
sion is sorrowful-the pale brow cov-
cred with lines of care. Perhaps with
that far fflook of hers, she sees three
little graves, green with as many
summers. Her home is very hum.
ble-ail day she has toiled, and the
fainting spirit almost surrenders to ia
tigue, the downcast eyes trembling in
tears-she is so weary. And every
nerve tingles when the boys come
hungry from school, some with weep
ing and tales of sorrow, that mothers
must hear. And after they are hush
ed with kisses or chidingS, it is time
to get supper for seven hungry mouths
and then the accustomed, never-end,
ing routine of putting away and clear.
ing up, till the worn.out creature
wonders with sigh if there will re,
ally ever come a rest 10 her-an eter-
nal rest.
At last she can rest her weary
limbs in the cold corner rocking chair
The babe, whose eyes close tittully tC
a low lullaby, lies in his fathers lap,
He is a plain man, that father, with
an honest face and great heart, that
would, if he could, take in all the care
and sorrow of the household.
The babe sleeps. With a rude gen.
tlene8s he lays it on its mothers bo,
som, and as the ruddy fre-light plays
over her care-worn features, he looks
upon her with eyes suddenly grown
lustrous and beautiful. He lifts his
great hand softly, till it rests on her
shoulder, as he says:
81 love you, dear Mary"
How the poor heart leaps into love,
light, and rest! How vanish the
cares that trod upon her very soul i
She no more remembers the toilsome
washing; she reflects not that the
pretty babe, with its pink, flushed
cheek against her breast, has worn hel
patience threadbare with its constant
tears and unreast. She forgets tha
the broth was burned, that the child
rem teased her, that the line broke, ant
that every limb in her frame ached.
What were these in comparison with
the steadfast love that had burned fol
eighteen years in the sunlight of hap
piness, through the clouds of despair
when beauty made her winning, and
when the charm ofloveIiness was gone,
and the freshness of her youth depart
ed forever. What cared she for aught
outside her home, though she had ma.
ny sorrows, while such words thrilled
her whole being?
81 love you, dear Mary "
All you long married husbands,
who exact every attention as duty,
how much would it cost you to make
your home thus beautiful with all its
cares % l tell you one word oflove
will loosen great burdens from the
shoulders of the toiling woman you
call wife. Try it. Go home some
night, and look upon her with eyes of
long ago. For one little moment
think how great trials she took into
her heart when she married you.-
Then tenderly clasp her hand, as she
looks with wonder-opened eyes, say to
her in a low and steady voice, not
carelessly nor sportively, but earnest
ly--
81 love you"
Trust me, it will be to her, and to
you both, "better than diamonds. -
Eve. Post.