The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1865-02-24
The Working Mans RebuEe.

He set his empty kettle on the table,
and threw himself on the homely lounge.
He was a laboring man, his face brown
with exposure, his hands spread with toll.
All day long he had been out in the hot
sun upon the top of the house, Stating the
root Sometimes his head was giddy, and
his back weak, but he strengthened him.
self with thoughts of home and the treas
ures there. And now at sound of his feet,
at sound of his voice, dimples break over
smooth red cheeks, and loving fingers play
with his curls He shuts his eyes to frame
the picture in his heart-the picture of
his wife getting supper-the picture of
the quiet and comeliness of the room-the
picture of his prattling baby. He feels
the coming cool Of evening, and all these
things comfort him, yet he is not quite
sratetul-not wholly happy; for to-day
while busy at his work, he saw another
picture that made him enviols: rich Sam
Marlowe, riding out with his wife and
child-a handsome trio; Sam, portly,
contented and smiling, his wife, with a
dainty color in her cheek, and rich gar
ments folded about her.
'He and | We're boys together thought
the poor man, bending to his work again.
and see how Providence has blessed him,
though he began almost with nothing.
Now he keeps horses and Il carriage, lives
in beautiful house, has married for
tune, and with plenty of leisure can bring
up his one boy just as l have longed to do
by my Tom. | by marrying early and
poor, have brought burdens upon Mary's
shoulders that must be hard to bear. Five
little ones, and | only a day laborer yet =
and he sighed YEARLY. All day the heavy
heart never left him, and his fellow labor
ers wondered what had come over their
usually merry friend; now he had brought
that shadow home with him-the phantom
horse and rider, the envy and the care.
My Mary is a handsomer woman than
his wife, he muttered, nursing his misery,
and yet she never knows rest. As for
taking her out for driye'-he ended the
sentence with bitter laugh
Moments passed during which the cloud
grew thicker, heavier. A neighbor pass
ing by told of strange disease that had
lately appeared in their midst; the doctor
called it diptheria, she said, and it was a
terrible and fatal sickness. Then the door
shut, the voice faded away, but the some
thing dreary did not pass from the mans 5
heart
Suddenly there was a sound of alarm
in the bright kitchen; Harry, come here ,
He arose slowly and passed through the
door of the plain little parlor His wife
held their babe in her arms; the other
children were gathered anxiously about
her, looking on.
what can be the matter with him ?
cried Mary; he seemed we'll enough till
now But his lips are blue, and suddenly
ne has ceased to play; and hear how he
draws his breath! Harry he is very sick,
you must 90 for the Doctor
Harry started at once; little Herbert
was his idol-a most beautiful and attrac-
tive child, winning and loving-a very
angel in the humble home. 1t was not
long before the physician was in their
midst; his first glance was startled, his
second grave. Herbert was very ill l.; the
terrible sickness was upon him in its most
fearful form. All that night they minis
tered to him in agony, for they felt that in
such struggles the frail little flower would
soon be broken from the stalk, though
shielded by their tenderest care. And
alas . when the morning broke, in un-
clouded brightness, the sweet face of the
babe was set toward it, but it saw no light );
the little spirit had gone to its upper home,
and lett the house desolate.
Then came the sad duties the little
body to be dressed and kissed, and fingered
over for the last time-the darkened room
The flowers brought by loving hands to
wreath about the forehead, and place with
in the slender baby fingers; and So thew
carried and left him in lowlier bed than
he had ever known, returning to find an
other child in the power of the dread de-
stroyer.
How long time elapsed no one knew
in that household, for the hours passed by
unheeded but death came again and again.
and Harry and his wife stood in their lone
home desolate. The strong man was bow
ed to the earth with agony. For time
his reason was threatened He accused
God; he heaped curses on himself.
Il was envlous of another he cried, 'and
see how God has smitten me. Oh, give
me back my children: Only give me
back the blessing Of my eyes, the Jewels