Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1861-08-10


that morning, as she sat with her apron at
her eyes, aud the sObs in her rocking Tn
and fro in her low chair and the sweet
restless sunshine all about her-what went
on in the woman'S softened heart, only God
aud the angels know.
Are you tired, Isaac p
Inc larmer was wping his face and
hands on the brown crash towel which hung
near the window. He was tall. stalwart,
muscular man, snn.browned and weather.
beaten, yet he had keen, kindly eyes, and
the hard features had an honast-intelli.
gent expression. Mrs. Parsons was cutting
loaf OF rye bread at the kitchen table.
Her huSbaud turned and looked at her q
moment, as though he half doubted wheth-
er he mad heard Alright. His wifc's face
was bent over the bread, aud he could not
see 1t 6ut the words came o second time:
Are you tired, Isaac p
1t was long time since Mr.. Parsons
had heard that quiet voice. Ii stole over
his heart like a wind from the land of his
youth.
We'll, yes, do feel kind of tuckered
out. It's hard work to get 10 all that corn
with only one hand besides Roger
L reckoned SO, and thought I'd broil
the chicken for tea, and bake the sweet DO
tatoes, us you relish them best So
Mr.. Parsons did not say one word he
sat down and took the weekly paper out of
his pocket, but bis thoughts were too busy
to let him read one word. He Knew very
well his wtss aversion to broiled chickens,
and as the kitchen was her undsputed ter.
ritory, he was obliged TO submit and huve
his chickens Stewed, and his potatoes served
up iii sauce, Notwithstanding she was per.
fectly aware that he preferred the former
brolet, aud the latter baked this unusual
Difference to his taste fairly struck the
farmer dumb with aStonshmcnt, and he
sat still ard watched his wife as she hurried
from the pantry to the table, in her pre-.
parationS for tea and then there came
across him the memory of some of the
harsh, angry words he had spoken during
that morning, and the words smOte the
mans heart.
And while Mrs. Parsons was in the midst
Of taking up the daintily broiIed chicken,
two boys and girl burst into the kitchen.
Hush, hush children, wound in among
the obstreperous mirth like silver chime,
the soft voice of the mother. Fathers
busy reading the paper, and you'll disturb
him.
The children were silenccd at once, not
in fear of the reproof, but in wonder at it,
for the wife as Sc dom consulted her hnS-
bands taste and convenience in these small
everyday matters which make the happi
ness or irritation Of our lives, as he did
hers.
In few moments the hungry family
gathered round the table There was lit
tie spoken at the meal but softer, kind.
lier atmosphere seemed to pervade the
room. The children felt, though they did
not speak OF 1t.
Are you going ont this evening Isaac p
We'll, yes | thought I'd step round to
the town meetin' Want anything at the
store {? continued Mr. Parsons as he tried
to button his collar before the old.faShioned
looking glass, whose mahogany frame was
mounted with boughs of Evergreen, around
which scarlet berries hung their charm of
rubies.
But the mans large fingers were clumsy,
and after several Intellectual attempts 10 ac-
complish his purpose, Mr. Parsons dropped
his hand with an angry grunt, that the
thing would not work
Let me try, father Mrs. Parsons step,
ped unicky to her husbands side, aud in a
moment her hand had managed the refrac-
tory button.
Then she smoohed down lock or two
of black hair which had strayed over the
sunburnt forehead, aud the touch Of those
soft fingers felt very pleasant about the
farmers brow, and woke up in his heart
sweet memories of times when he used to
feel them auttering like dream through
his hair.
He looked on his wife with softneSs in
his keen eye, which he little suspected.
And the softness aud the smile stirred a
fountain warm and tender 10 Mrs. Parsons
heart, which not for years yielded one drop
of its sweet waters. She reached up her
lips impulsiyely, and kissed his cheek. Any
one who had witnessed that little scene
would scarcely have suspected that the
married life of Isaac Parsons and his wife
counted three quarters Of score of years
The woman's comely face was as fnl oi
shy bushes as u girls of sixteen, and Isaac
Parsous seized his hat and plunged out o
the house without speaking one word, bu'
with a mixture of amazement and something
deeper on his face, not easily described.
But at last he cleared bis throat, anc
muttered to himself, "Melissy sha'n't re
pent that act-I say she Sha'n't !" anC
when Isaac Parsons said thing, every
body knew he meant ii. r..
4 x
The sunset of another Autumn day wa
rolling its yestures of purple and gold abou
the mountains when the wagon of lsaat
Parsons rolled into the farm'yNrd. lie ha(
been absent all day in the city, and tn
supper had been awaiting him nearly al
hour, and the children had grown hungr!
and impatient. O.
20, father, what have you got there !!
they oil clamored, as he came into tn
house tuggipg along an immense bundl
tied with cords.
at is something for your mother, child
rem" was the rather unsatisfactory answer
At this moment Mrs Parsons entere,
the kitchen. Her husband snapped th'
cords and a breadth ofiugrain carpet role
ont unon the floor through whose dar