Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1860-03-15
The Poverty Cure
By LAUaAJ. CURTIS.


Was christened by her physicians and friends,
''nervous debility"
The slightest excitement or exertion left her
utterly Frustrated and weary, and every nerve
and muscIe in her system kept her painfully
conscious Of their existence. The luxurles that
surrounded her We're only "a realization Of the
cup Of Tantalus. True, she had an elegant car
rlAge, line horses, and many servants, but the
fatigue OF riding out was far greater than the
pleasure OF drive, and she rarely attempted it.
She had fine library, but books she never cared
much for and if she had loved reading, her
eyes were 80 weak as to put that amusement out
OF the question An extensive and choicely
Kept conServatjry was part Ut Mr. Durand's
establishment. but the odors of the flowers made
his invalid Wlle laint and sick she had no taste
for fancy work--that busy idlencss which saves
So many women from enaui. Embroidery, GRO
chet knitting and netting she had tried in turn,
and each tired her and made her head ACHE
Her three children generally paid her IA visit once
"a day; but it would be difficult to decide which
enjoyed it least, or was more pleased to have it
oyer-the boys or their mother The children
were glad to escape from the hushed, gloomy
chamber, where everything they did seemed to
be ont Of place and wrong, 50 constantly were
they checked for beng boisterous OF troublesome
and Mrs Durand experienced sensation of re-
lief when she had kissed them all, and seen them
safely marshaled out Of the room by their
nurse-fOr she had a comfortable consciousness
that she had done her duty, and that she had
seen the last of them for one day at least
After this morning visit, she had nothing to
do but to lean her aching head YEARLY back
on the pillowe] easy chair until her physician
coming reused her from her listlessness for few
moments This call, and still brieler one from
her husband, just before dinner, were all that
varied the monQtony of her life.
MIR Durand was kind. hearted man, and rea-
sonably fond of his wife he had spared NO
pains or expense to restore her to health he had
made no objection to her trial of the pathieS-
allopathy, homeopathy, hydropathy-and had
only shrugged his shoulders when as last re-
sort, healing mediums were called to the rescue
lie had gratiied her every within had taken
her to every variety Of climate; without word
of remonstrance had visited all the Springs, far
and near, in search Of that health which was
nowhere to be found until at last, alter going
round the whole circle OF remedies in vain, it
had been Mrs. Durand own proposal to remain
at home, under the care Of her own family
physician.
Meanwhile, as his wifes maIady though in
durable, seemed not at all likely to prove fatal,
Mr.. Durand' anxiety, which ut first had been
extreme died away. 1t grew of course that
Maria should be sick, and his daily call and
his stereotyped dialogue became equally
habitual
"Well. how do you feel to day, Maria ?"
{" No better, with sigh. My head is
as bad as ever
Sorry to hear it,
A pause--then glance at his watch.
" 1t is near dinner time. Good night, Maria.
l wish you could sit at table with me-.
This conversation, almost without a varia-
ton, had been repeated day after day, until it
was as much part of Mr.. Durand's daily life
as his dinner and the cigar, the evening paper,
and the quiet rubber of whist with a few
cronies, that followed it.
The lonely evenings Mrs. Durand spent as
she did her lonely days, reclining in her chair
or on a lounge--her thin, white hands, shaded
by exquisite and costly lace, folded and lying
idly in her lap, while with half-shut eyes she
gave herself up TO sad reyeres.
1t seemed almost like dream to her to look
back, as she often did to the time when, rosy
plump and joyous country maiden, she had
raked hay made butter and cheese, washed
dishes, and even scrubbed the white e ,or of her
aunt's neat kitchen. Her small hands, now SO
white and soft. had been red and hard once, her
transparent cheek had been sun-burned and
Drowned, but her rustic beauty had won the
heart of the rich city merchant, whom business
had brought for few weeks to the neighbor-
hood of Mapleton, and not many weeks later
she became his wife. City life was entirely
new to Maria Durand, and Tor few seasons
she had enjoyed it to the full. Parties, the
opera, and all sorts Of gayeties succeeded each
other, until suddenly her health failed. And
now, so young, while life held out to her cup
overHowing with delicious and intoxicating
draught, one drop Of bitterness had poisoned it
oil r. was hard indeed and moor Maria