The Portland daily press., 1865-02-02
Thursday Morning, Feb. 2, 1866.

Hannah Gnsldt' $ Door Step.

sai Hannah Gneldt's Doorstep. aliw
Hannah Gneldt leaned upon her broom, and
looked out from the low Kitchen door across
the wintry fields and the ice-glazed streamle
which lay betWeeeng her home and the little
village of Greennook, with its one tapering
spire and sloping roofs and blank white walls
bare now OF the summer verdure. She had
done her household work, polished every arti.
Gle capable of polish, and soaped and sanded
all the rest. At the last she had swept clean
her door stone, and now felt free to do what
she chose, TO rest, or gossip, or sit down to
needle-work,-a thing impossible to her while
spot beneath her roof was out of order. just
now she felt neither like gosslping nor sew
ing; her heart was very full, and she found il
necessary to stand still and think while. On
ly that she was not used to it, she would have
cried, she was SO very sad. 1t seemed to her
that the happiest people were those who lay
in their green graves in the church yard, with
crossed hands upon their bosolns, and feet
quiet from all earthly going to and fro for ev;
erm0re. ls s1as insslay saslss Baals1oT .isiG gal
Not that Hannah Gneldt was tired in body,
or weary with the toll of household duty for
she was strong of frame, and her health was
perfect, as her hands were willing. 1t was on
her humble heart the burden lay, her spirit
was worn with earthly travail.
'T&enty-three years to-day Pye been his
wife, she muttered, land Eve loved him well,
and worked hard and faithful to keep things
decent, and it's come to this at lastl Things
had Been better, says he, If he'd married Miss
Lesterr
Yes, that was what Farmer Gneldt, harassed
by toll and debt, had said to herl that very
morning; and it seemed to Hannah like the
confession Of long repentance, forced from
her husbands lips at last,
Poor man! wish could help him, she
sighed, leaning on her broom beside the door.
Il doubt he's right about Miss Lester
With that her eyes fell and rested by chance
on the door step. s1s2aIy3
Il can mend that, anyhow she said and l
have time, for work is done,'
So she hung the broom up, and peeped into
her oven, and set the kettle on and then,
hooded and shawled, crossed thenfields to
where the farm joined that of Simeon Gray.
On one spot were men at work, and stones
lying about. nssil rs $50 as H ssiasess4tl 81
Hannah Gneldt nodded to the old farmer
and he came to meet her. fFSEkA EE
Il want a stone, she said. May have
one? .WEEE.5E .TaO9SW9Ud
4 wish you'd take 'em all said the farmer;
'a lot o. rubbish. You see I'm clearing away
what they call the old graveyard at last.
Wife talks to me o. sacrilege and diSturbin'
bones. Bless you, there amt been none for
years and years; and these hard times man
can'tlet land 60 to waste. ! tell wife she don't
know nothin' about it., What dye want to
do? Pave bit around the well p '.-iq =, H..
mol want step said Hannah. That
great white one is just the thing And she
pointed TO slab hard by. fsE 8Tkg@ HF
Ike shall bring it over tonight, said the
farmer hoa o&A &&AA "a
No. said Hannah, 4 can roll it along.'r
And her arms, strong as most mems, went
to work at once, and the slab was rolled, and
pushed and lifted on Its way. 1t was toll for
q laborer, but it did Hannah good. She tug
ged away, pushing, and lifting, and adding
woman's ingenuity TO mans strength; so that
at last 1t was at her own door. There she let
it rest, and dug the old stone out, and after
ward brought water TO wash the slab with;
white as driven snow, for the most part, with
some little yellow weather-stains about the
edge, and on one side black inscription
name, line of eillogy, and dates. Hannah:
stared with the cusiosity Of one who can not
read. asa IS .S,tf IA n vss aasssI sQ8
i wish 1 conld tell what that was she said,
Some ones name and age All, they were
sore hearts when that was new. hope when
die Oliver will have written over me that i
was good wife, I've tried to 'be9z ought
to know that big letter wait q bit, believe Il
is u " ,s.i5, yls.gs biaq b 5a5ds 80 ssi.ss
Then she turned the inscription downward.
and washed the other side, clear and white,
and fitted 1t into its place, v ~ 0'l
She received little credit for her work. OH
yer only muttered,
You needn't have published the fact. that /
couldn't afford porch to al the place. And
no one noticed the step afterward save Hannah
when she scrubbed it. EiEM 10 a1HBa
Matters were very bad at the Gneldts.' OH
yer brooded over the hrein speechless sorrow,
and grew grayer and balder with each passing
day. Hannah kept ruin off little by making
home of the poor house, and feast of the
humble fare, by her housewives skill. She
might even have been cheerful. but for the
memory of that luckless speech.
Working in her garden one day, when the
first spring grass was growing green, Hannah
heard footsteps, and lifting her head, saw two
gentlemen beside her, and arose precipitately
with womanly anxiety about her ANGLES, not
strictly covered perhaps by her cotton gown.
The nearest gentleman an elderly man with
bright, dark eyes, addressed her.IE8 B4&i3I,
Mrs. Gneldt, I presume' 'GGl
yes, SIR 's...s,, 80 4 a egse.,, gflf
She asked him TO walk In, and he did SC, the
other following. ah 't'la.ai sei ro.,qs
In the little parlor they sat down. sg.ao1 /
You are Mrs. Hannah Gneldt, Oliver Gneldt's
wife@ ssrip '6aliT 80 .oH 9aif
Yes sir. 1t is abost-about-excu me. you
look like lawyer, and fear it's more trouble
for Oliver
'Reassure YOURSELF said the gentleman
'Reassure yourself, madame Your husband
is not concerned. save through Won. and that
hope pleasantly. Your name was Burns. be-
fore YOU were married p,1 I1 - 3'ar - ~ W.
Yes sir. Hannah Burns,
DO YOU remember dates well p shaa3sog
No, sir.'
--vour own birth. YOUR parents, msyr;soe
your grandfather's death p ~ - ''s'' so'
Hannah Gneldt wonderingly replied. Il