Muscatine weekly journal. [volume] (Muscatine, Iowa) 185?-1890, 1863-05-15
THE JOURNAL.
THE PATIENT WIFE.

The new streets are as quiet as the grave,
not even policeman stirring. In all this
long row Of neat houses l can see but one
window that is lighted up.
Quick, Asmodeus +! strip me off the front
of this house, that Imay search it for sitters
up" No great labor is before me, for it is
only size or two larger than q spacious
dolls house. There are no ornaments; all
the furniture is for use, and wonderfully neat
and spotless it is. ~
Let me try and read the history of this
house and its "sitters up" before they speak.
One is an old lady with widows cap and a
mourning dress the other-there are but
two-is young lady, evidently her daugh-
ter. The former has been reading, and the
book is lying in her lap with her hands fold
ed over it, whilst she gazes into the fire.
The latter has been busy working little
pieces of linen and cambria and lace and
very fine flannel into strange shapes, making
little caps and frocks and warm garments,
perhaps for the doll to whom the house be-
longs, or who will take possession of it
shortly.
But her work has fallen unheeded to the
floor, and leaning her head upon her hand,
she has given herself up to meditations
which cast the shadow of pain over her
pretty face. Poor young thing, not yet nine
teen, a wife, and soon to be mother! Will
the shadow deepen as the night goes on?
There is tray covered up carefully with a
snowy cloth upon the sideboard, and oyer it
the portrait Of gentleman dressed in the
costume of 1910. A handsome, dashing fell
low he must have been in his prine-too
dashing, am afraid for fancy that can
see in the few pieces Of handsome, but old
fashioned furniture, that looks SO unwieldy
in the little room, the fragments of wreck.
The homely repast in the tray is not spread
for him. The rusty black Grape and the
widows cap, am sure are worn in his mem
DRY. They are sitting up for some one else.
There is look of carelessness and irresolu-
ton in the handsome face. l can imagine
such things as life assurances suffered to
drop, and evil days put off, till one most evil
came and found the widow and orphan thrown
penniless upon the world.
The striking Of the clock rouses the old
lady from doze
1.-Two o'clock" she exclaims, throwing
up her hands well, il it is not scsndalous,
Bessy, keeping you up in this way-and in
your condition, too. Oh, men are always
selfish" and the old lady shakes her head
pettishly.
"Dear mother" replies Bessy, in tone
which implies there is no novelty in the COM
plant, you know he cannot help it. Be-
sides he does not wish me to sit up"
"Then why do you ?"
"Oh, l like to give him his supper, poor
dear, after his hard nights work."
Nights work. retorts the old lady,
"that's just it; why can't he work in day
time like Christian ~
81 think have told you before, mamma"
replies Bessy, "that it is the duty of sub
editor to see the paper put to press, as they
call it :; and this cannot be done till the very
last moment, in order that the very latest
news may be printed"
"Then why is John a sub-editor ?' is the
querulous demand.
"Your poor father could not abide editors.
If your husband must write, why can't he be
secretary to some gentleman, or 60 into the
treasury-there are some very gentlemanly
appointments, hear, in the treasury" She
speaks as though he bad only to walk in at
door and ask for twenty-five hundred year!
"John has no interest, DEAR" replies
Bessy, taking up her work again. 1--WE
have reason to be very thankful that he has
his present engagement. There are 80 many
clever men about now-none so clever as he
is though" the young wife adds, and fash
of pride lights up her eye, though tear has
just fallen from her cheek upon the little lace
cap that her busy fingers are shaping.
"Then," says the old lady, coming again
to the charge, "why don't he do something
clever? If he must write, why don't he
write some book that will make his fortune,
like the "Pilgrim's Progress" or johnson
Dictionary?''
A rattle in the lock of the outer door puts
an abrupt check to these valuable suggestions,
and in a moment John-the bread winner
is in his wife's arms. Do you know the look
of a man who has done hard days work.
and is pleased with it2 Well, John has the
look.
His shirt is tumbled, his hands arc grimy
with dust and ink, his light. curly hair in
wild disorder; but there is no mistaking Tor
other than thorough gentleman, and an
honest and loving man.
humble fingers whisk away the snowy
cloth from over the tray, and 10 there is dis.
closed prime little piece of cold stewed beef,
crusty loaf, saucerful of walnut pickles.
and a bottle of bitter ale, supper for an en-
peror provided he is hungry and has a good
digestion.
Bessy is here and there, and everywhere
all at once. She is taking off Johns coat ::
she is putting on his. slippers she is opening
his bottle of ale; she is filling his plate with
good things; she is kissing him. When he
is well settled down to his repast she goes to
the old lady and kisses her; and the old lady
tries to look stern, and fails miserably. 1t is
q very pleasant scene. see no wreck now.
I see the good ship Perseverance beating up
against the wind and tide to weather Cape
Independence. Every sail is set, all lumber
is cleared away, and Prince John is at the
helm. Bon voyage, Prince John! The
breakers that lay ahead few hours ago are
away yonder upon your quarter, far to lee
ward; and the white foam dashes madly over
their jagged heads as your gallant bark speeds
onward.
There is an expression upon Johns face
that cannot quite make out. He chuckles
slyly to himself now and then, and looks a
look over at his mother-in-law, as she sits
dosing by the FIRE, which says as plainly as
these types could render it, You are very
nice old lady; but two's company, and
three's none"
Perhaps the old lady sees that John has
something for his wife's ear; at any rate, she
lights her candle and wishes them good
night, declaring-not for the first time-that
he ought to be ashamed of himself for keep
ing such prohigate hours. Whereat John,
who has risen and opened the door for her,
throws his arm around the place where once
was her waist, and kisses her violently, to
her intensI establishment.
When she has go,.e ne returns to the fire.
side, and placing his two hands on Bessy's
shoulders, gazes steadfastly into her great
honest eyes. Then he draws her towards
him, and lays her head upon his bosom, and
softly and tenderly caresses it-there-
though she had been hurt child, and he