The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1861-08-02

yet no had kindly eyes, and the hard features
had an honest, intelligent expression. Mrs.
Parsons was cutting loaf Of rye bread at
the kitchen table. Her husband turned and
looked at her a moment, as though he halt
doubted whether he had heard Alright. His
wife's facc&st bent over the bread, and he
could not SCI" it; but the words came a
second time:
"Are you tired, Isaac?'
1t was long time since Mr.. Parsons had
heard that soft, quiet voice. 1t stole over
his heart like q wind from the land of his
youth.
well, yea, do feel kind Of tuckcrcd out.
It's hard work to get in all that corn with
only one hand besides Roger
Il rockoncd SO; and thought I'd broil the
chickens for tea. and bake tho sweet potatoes,
rs you'd relish them best so.'
Mr.. Parsons did not speak word; he sat
down and took the weekly paper out of his
pocket, but his thoughts were too busy to
let him read one word. He knew very well
his wife's aversion to broiled chickens, and
rs the kitchen was her undisturbed territory,
he was Obliged to submit and have his chick
ems stewcd, and his potatoes served up in
sauce, Notwithstanding she was perfectly
aware that he preferred the former broiled .
and the latter baked; and this unusual defer
ence to his taste fairly struck the farmer dumb
with astonlshment. and he sat still and
watched his wife as she hurried from the
pantry to the table, in her preparations for
tea; and then there came across him the
memory of some of the harsh, angry words
he had spoken during their quarrel that
morning, and the words smote the mans
heart.
And while Mrs. Parsons was in the midst
of taking up the daintily broiled chicken,
two boys and girl burst into the kitchen
Hush, hush, children wound in among
the obstrepcnous mirth, like silver chime,
the solt voice of the mother. Father busy
reading the paper, and you'll disturb him ;
The children silenccd at once, not in fear
Of tho rcproof, but in wonder at 1t, for the
wife as seldom consulted her husbands tastes
and convenience in these very small every day
matters which make the happiness or irrita-
tiOn OF our lives. Us he did hers.
In few moments tho hungry family gath.
cred round the table. There was little spo-
ken at the meal, but softer, kindlier atmos-
phere seemed to pervade the room. The
children felt, though they did not speak OF
1t.
Are you going out this evening, Isaac7'
well, yes. | thought I'd step round to the
town mcctin'. Want any thing at the storc2'
continued Mr.. Parsons, as he tried to button
his collar before the small, old-lashioned
looking glass, whose mahogany frame was
mounted with boughs Of evergreen, around
which scarlet berries hung their charm of
rubics.
But the mans large fingers were clumsy,
and after several Intellectual attempts to 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 stepped
quickly to her husbands side, and in mo-
ment her hand had managed the refractory
button.
Then she smoothed down lock or two of
black hair, and the touch Of those soft fin
gers felt very pleasant about the farmers
brow, and woke up in his heart old sweet
memories Of times when he used to feel them
Auttcring like dream through his hair.
lie looked ON his wife with softness in
his face and smile in his keen eye which
he little suspected. And the softncss and
the smile stirred q fountain warm and tender
in Mrs. Parsons heart, which not for years
yielded one drop of its sweet waters. She
reached up her lips impulsively, and kissed
his cheek. Any ono who had witnessed that
little domestic scene would scarcely have sus-
pected that the married life Of Isaac Parsons
and his wife counted three.q quarters Of a score
of years.
The woman's comely face was as full OF
shy bushes as girl of sixteen, and lsaac
Parsons seized his hat and plunged out ofthe
house without speaking one word, but with
mixture of amazemcnt and something deep
er on his face, not easily described.
But at last he cleared his throat, and NUT
tered to himself:
'Melissy shan't repent that act; say she
shan'tn
And when Isaac Parsons said thing, cv-
erybody knew he meant it.
The sunset Of another autumn day was
rolling its vesture of purple and gold abont
the mountains when the wagon Of Isaac Par
sons rolled into the f.rm-yard. He had been
absent all day in the city, and supper had
been awaiting him moro than an hour, and
the children had grown hungry and impa-
tient.
'Oh, father! what have you got there ?
they all clamored, as he came into the house,
tugging an immense bundle tied with cords.
1T issomethng for your mother, children,
was the rather unsatisfactory answer.
At this moment Mrs. Parsons entered the
kitchen. Her husband snapped the cords,
and a breadth Of ingram carpcting rolled out
upon the floor, through whose dark green
groundwork trailed russet vine and golden
leaves most tasteful and graceful pattern.