Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1860-08-22
MORNING AND AFTERNOON.


1t was the freshest of April mornings, with
soft wind that had rified all manner of sweet
scents from dimpled hollows, purpled over
with young vioets, and solitary brook-sides,
fringed with white anemone stars, and waited
them into the city streetsto revive many a
weary dwcllcr among paving-stones. Mrs.
Arden, standing at her window: looked down
at the few feet of earth that city people dig
Nifty by the title of s'garden," and felt the
sunny spring influences even there.
ssWh hat lovely morning. she said to her.
SELF ssthis is the very time to put my dahlas
into the ground, and take care of the roses,
how fortunate that to-day will be compara-
lively leisure time to me Women don't Of
ten get released from the domestic treadmili J.,
and what with spring sewing. company, and
house cleaning, have been literally slave
for the last three months. Once out in the
open air, among the flower roots, and [ shall
feel as though were entering new life."
Ignorant Mrs. Arden. Had she lived to be
80 years old, without knowing that married
woman ought not to breathe, without first
asking her husband if it's perfectly proper
aud convenient Mr.. Arden had laid out an
entirely different programme for his lady-wiie.
Jn he came, ,discontentedly eyeing a new over
coat he had been buying.
..Nelly, can't you fix this coat somehow p
There is something hitchy about the collar
you can tell where the trouble is, you're so
smart with your needle''
Mrs. Arden took it out of his hands and
looked at it despairingly-therew was full three
hours work about it.
"And, Nelly-if you wouldn't mind alter
ing these shirt bosoms-they're all in wrinkles
tho pattern was bad one"
.sYou insisted on having them made accord
ing to that pattern entirely against my advice"
vWell, T'know l did, replied Mr.. Arden
rather sheepslHy. ssMartin said it was a good
one, but Martin don't know everything;
81 wish you had found that out before the
Shirts were made,'' said Mr.. Arden petulantly.
81 say interposed her spouse, apparently
rather desirous tf changing the subject, swhat
are you going to have for dinner ~
~ don't know, I'm snre,'' was the vexed
reply. 81 believe men are always thinking
about eating-no sooner is breakfast over than
dinner begins TO disturb them.''
81 wish you would make one of those pud-
dings lke-make it yourself, for Susan al
ways manglcs it. We haven't had one for a
long time now,
'sThere goes the day of leisure that was to
ihaye put my garden in such beautiful order,''
sighed Mrs. Arden.
80, pshaw,'' said her husband contempla-
ting his whiskers in the glass, s'what do you
care about garden work A woman ought to
find her chief happiness in domestic duties.
don't approve Of this everlasting idgeting
about fiowers.'
s.IIarry," said his wife, 4you would not be
at all contented if your office work was so
endless that you never got moments time TO
smoke cigar, or read a book or newspaper 20
"N--no,'' replied Mr.. Arden hesitatingly,
.sbut then you are not man."
'.No-I know I'm not,'' said Mrs. Arden
quickly ssif were, my Ayife should have a
little leisure to breathe occasionally"
Mr.. Arden went out, shutting the door with
some vehemence behind him.
al never did see such complaining set as
I, ,ntar L.
walked rapidly down the street.
Two or three hours steady work soon dis
posed of the press of Office business awaiting
him, and he threw himself back in chair to
rest and look over his newspaper. But the
balmy wind famed his forehead like narcotic
incense, and the sensation of dolce far niente
was inexpressiby delightful, the closely prin-
ted columns became mere confused blur
and the first Mr.. Arden knew, he was-not ex- |
actly asleep, perhaps, but certainly not very
wide awake.
Something carried him back to the time
when Nelly had been abride-fresl and bloom !
ing as rose. How well he remembered the |
blue light of her eyes and the satin bright
ness Of her complexion. She had grown wan
and weary looking since those days. Was
it possible that he had been lacking in care
and tendernessl 1t was rather an uneasy
twinge of conscience, for he did love her, rat
tle-braned and thoughtless as he was.
ne tnOuSnt OF Her, sitting alOne through the |
glorious April day, bending over the work he |
had assigned to her, until the paior deepened |
on her check, and the eyes grew dim and /
lusterless-he remembered the many, many
days she had spent in the same wearisome oc-
cupation. No wonder that the little garden |
was a sunny spot to her-no wonder that she
loved the flowers whose freshness seemed to |
revive her whole nature.
man may be very cruel to woman with
out either beating her or denying her the ne.
cessaries OF life.
suppose she should drift away from him,
IKE delicate leaf upon a swift rushing
stream He shuddered at the mere idea.
one was not strong-the time might come
"hen narrow grave and white headstone
would be all that remained of his little wife.
ana then-should he not remember all these
things
de started up from the troubled network of
ldhcy that had woven itself into a vague
aream the sunshine lay brightly on the floor,
ana ana the fingers of the clock pointed to the
honr at which he usually went home to dinner
Inc pudding was made-rhe coat in prime
oraer.the unsatisfactory shirts ripped apart,
"nu Neiiy, though pale and tired looking,
S Iale 70 the door with smile to greet her
~" ny, Harry, what on earth have you got
,h, she exclaimed, as Mr.. Arden came up
~ tk seps, staggering under the weight of two
,rhian ;,,,ee oiossoming geraniums aud verbenas
craSmI LII, ne mad brought from down town with in
credible difficulty.