The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1862-12-06
The Bankrupt Husband.
ny vrRGrNIAp. TOWNSEND.

"Itil hays to go, Mary ,here's. no help
for it," fa
She lookel mp the ladyto whom these
words were aldressci--in way which
showed shat they had strick AMI hurt her.
She was scooping a chlds skirt. and the
needle work hal followed her rapid fingers
alony the flannel like line Of snowy fcam
but now the work fell, unheeded, to the
floor. gF
"Ah, John, has it come to that - asked
Mary, the wife of John Malcolm and the
soft bloom in her cheek vanished away, and
the woris were spoken with kind OF gasp,
a. th,ngh just beneath them lay a. mighty
swell anil rush of feelings that well nigh
overpowcred her voice.. a-a
"Yes, Mary, it must come. God knows
I've struggled as hard as man could to
weather the storm, and | could have done it,
too, if those Western houses hadn't gone un-
der But they'll carry us with it."
IL can't rsalizc it yet, John," she said,
I,okiny at him in half-bcwildered, half
frightened way that was painful to see the
shock, for a moment, had half stunned
her. H-E
10, Mary. it was hardest for your sake ?
mud the words cam. in that sharp groan
which ia .crrible to hear from the lips Of a
strong man. Tho tones ronscd her at once
into full cnnsciouSness Of what had be-
fallen them. and of the part she must bear
in It. F9 5@ a.# E.srars
"Dnnt, I,hn-dn take it so hard"
her voice struggling mp thr,ngha sob into
a note Of brave ch h,erfllness, ane her lips
fashioaing smile which. though weak at
first, Won felt certain would grow stronger
ell the time,jl ss yon feel the sweet prom.
i.c Of the day when the first faint sunbeams
struggle out Of the morning. Is mist.
al could have borne up. Nary, ifit hadn't
been far you and the chiIden; but that
thought cut to the core--Ifs more than /
Gan bear" . aasa....
And for the first time the Young wife and
mother heard sob from the lips OF her hus-
band, as he bowed down on the arms Of his
chair. The p,ide of his manhood gave way
at last, and John Malcolm wet like little
child. Then the woman's heart. the woman's s
power to cheer, and comfort, and strengthen,
r used themselves the waves went over her
but one moment, aud then Mary Malcolm
for .ot herself, and rose up to the height OF
her true womanhood-to the exaltation OF
self fsacrifice.
.John," said the soft, brave voice, "don't
ever sav ,hat again. Let everything else
fail. ,he he,rtsas your wife never will"
AID now she had come close to him, and
her head lay on his shoulder, as tender, as
confding as in their days Of brightest pros
perity. All through the day he had been
looking forward to this holr and shrinking
away from it and once or twice--God for
give him he had glanced ont nf his office
window to the river, which rolled it's dark +,
sullen waters in the distance, and a fierce
temptation had rushed oyer him to drop
everything and hurry out there and bury all
his pain and anguish under the dark, crum-
pied sheet Of water But John, in his secret
distress, knew that this temptation was the
voice of the devil entering into his soul he
was man who feared God and kept his CON-
m.ndments-he put the temptation aside.
Tho young husband had not doubted his
witp's heart for a moment but he expected
to see her almost stricken to the earth, with
the first tidngs of the ruin Of the house in
which he was the heaviest partner He
knew that her youth had been nurtured in
oil the grace and luxury that wealth confers,
and he feared the thought of going out into
the chill and darkness Of poverty. He had
not looked for loud lamentations, or bitter
yeproaches, but he dreaded the silent tears,
the mute dlspair of the white face.
So John Malcolm raised his hot face,
strained with the tears that were shed for her
sake. and looked into the eyes Of his wife !;
snd she answered him with a smile that set
even her face in new sacredness and beau
ty to her husbands eye--a smile so sweet
and tender to him. so brave and defiant for
the worst the world could do for them, that
it said to him at ONCE oil that her words
would, and could not
"Ah. Mary, my Wife," said the merchant,
81 thought when came into my house, an
hour ago, that was ruined man feel
now as though was very rich one."
HRujned. With me and the children, John?'
aud now there was some faint reproach in
her voice but she chung closer to him.
"But, Mary--poor child, you don't know
what it is 70 b. poor, to give up so much Of
grace and Injury, to which you've been ac-
eustomed."
"You say that. John, boforc you've tried
INC, and seen what springs of courage and
powers Of self sacrifice there are in my ma
,ure." The noble words had fitting Of em-
phasis in the sweet smiles-in the stead1ast,
dauntless tones. e3
''But we shall have to give up the house,
Mary ?"
"Well, we can feel just as happy in a
smaller one. Our love has had a broader