The Kanzas news., 1859-04-30
Jenny Manning in the Country.
By SARAH HAMILTON.

By SARAH HAMILTON.
"THEREi do declare can't and won
live here" said pretty woman, marin,
her face with lines of discomfort, while
eontemptuous expression robbed the ripe
pouting lips ofall their usual beauty. '.No
Thomas, tell you again, it is unendura
ble," and she glanced about the room, 3
the low ceiling. and impatiently down upol
the oiicloth carpet, ''it is cold here, the at
mosphere chile me to death. Do yol
hear:" LH.
"Yes, dear" said the gentleman address
ed, smiling upon the baby boy seated upol
bis knee, pulling his fair ringiets sbout hi
fair, little face, and laughing when his ehilt
laughed. |
"But you don't care, Thomas, that il
certain. You don't care, you never do
Why don't you plan something better fo
the future?"
"What shall do, Jenay?"
"Go to the city and work. There
enough to do. Rent house-hire girls
take boarders-anything to relieve me o.
this ennui.'
eff only could. Jenny" said the hus.
band. putting his boy softly down; ''bu
this is not bad place. I love the good
country ART braces me mp. The farm is
mine-all that own in the world-ont
from which I can earn an honorable and 8
good living. In the city was continually
meeting with losses. Why not stay here?"
''Stay here? Thomas Manning. look
about you at the coarse plastering
cheap, vulgar paper-the rough wainscot-
ting. Does this look like home!'' Tears
flooded her face, and the poor woman sought
her mean, little chamber overhead.
Mr.. Manning got leisurly up-walked
across the floor. once or twice, with his hands
behind him-looked out of the high, narrow
windows on the broad landscape, and for
got his momentary trouble, for such show
ers were common, and it would be severe
squall to mar, for any great length of time,
his usual undisturbed mind.
Now, I might go back years, and spin a
between the husband and wife, there had
been, from the first, a lack of congeniaiity
in tastes and dispositions. might say
neither possessed sufficient force of charac-
ter to raise and sustain the other. might
say that he was too easy, that his goodness
was of a negative sort, amounting to moth
ing but what would cause irritation to a
sensitive companion, who needed and long
ed for support to which she in her weak
ness might cling. I might say all this and
it would be true.
I might say, too, that she had no right to
be constantly irritated by the circumstan'
css around her-that she had no right to be
constantly bringing unhappiness to others,
because of the few real clouds, and the many
imaginary ones that clouded her domestic
sky. I might say much more, telling the
many why and wherefores of the misery
and darkness that had settled upon their
roof, and weighed heavily. at least, upon
the heart of one; but what would it avail?
He, the husband, was kindly sfectionate.
She, the wife, had loved him above all 9TH
ers, was still loving him, would be content,
spite of all lis shortcomings, had he wealth
to pave the way.
should dwell in their midst a silent song
bird-that the sunshine should live only in
the outer porch of their hearts, and gladness
thrive only out of their dwelling?
"Poor Jenny is to be pitiedr' remarked
I to aunt Hannah, the other day. "I'm
sure my heart aches for her.'
"Did you tell her 500" inquired aunt
Hannah, looking keenly over her speetacles.
eyes, I could not help it. l go often to
see her. She so needs sympathy"
"HumphP' She couldn't help saying it,
aunt Hannah, who, when she deigns to
speak, selects the most expressive words.
She went on, IA hundred and fifty dear
friends plying and sympathizing with her,
Jenny Manning, who might be happier than
q queen-friends who care not two coppers
for all her sorrows-who would scarcely
give that amount to relieve them, but who
pity from a momentary impulsiveness, and,
out ofsight, either forget entirely. or pirate
of the Inconsistency of her conduct."
sBut, aunt Hannah"
"Don't aunt Hannah me. have lost
all patience with the world. People seem
determined to be miserable. many of them.
wonder if ything but misery would con-
sole them in another world. They would
then fnd no use for all the fine phrases
about uncongen ialities, impressibilities, dis
tFessing emotions and sad spent days
Their eyes would tire with the constant glo-
~ of heaven. There would be no rainy
tears to wipe away, and eheerfulness would
be Of no moment, ifit went unFelieved by
the hearing sigh. ! tell you, Anna How
ard, I have no patience; here you are, .
great girl of twenty summers, lending all
the aid in your power helping your friend
to be miserable. If you only tried half so
hard to make her happy, would be proud
of you."
did love Jenny Manning very much,
and felt hurt at aunt Hannah's remarks.
I thought them over and over on my way
home, and the more thought of them the
more thought she was right. and what she
said felt was true.
Iwent up stairs to my own handsomely
furnished chamber, excusing myself, that
evening. to the gay company below, trying
to think how, in what way, ] could do any
thing to make Jenny hsppy-so happy. that
aunt Hannah would be proud of me. One,
two, three, merrily sang out little French