The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1865-06-05

I left nv home to follow his fortunes. 1t
was one great spring of the freshness OF
his lover-like devotion. whenever the
mood was not upon him; and it exag-
gerated everything when he did give
way toit.
All rolled back upon me bitterly that
morning. I looked down at my dress,
dark and plain, suited to the household
services I had through SO much patience
learned to render through the open
door, at the plain inelegance of my cham
Der, frightened only by skillful arrange
ment of our few pessessions-when L
loved all beauty and luxury by my birth
right. All my self-denial seemed wasted,
nv affection sent out in vain. Had no
claim upon his tenderness and forbear-
ance for the children l had borne him,
that he shamed me before their very
faces? And if I bent to this renewed
insult-from the hands of one who had
sworn to love and cherish me-patlently,
humbly, where was it to end? Oneday,
when they were old enough to blush for
their mother, she might be tainted In
their presence.
"Where is it to end ?" 1 said, aloud, as
I stood up and wrung my hands togeth.
er. not ~passionately, but with a dull
heartache that no words can express.
I do not know what suggested it, but
as I stood there. looking blankly around
me, the thought of going away from him
crossed nv mind. 1T will be ever re-
curing" | said to myself. 1--WE shall
always be miserable. Better a patient
hearth .eak than these stormy outbursts,
that rack my life"
Nv children! Yes, ] thought of them,
too: but in the mood of the moment they
were more than mine. They wouldsoon
forget me. He wasa devoted father, and
would never be separated from them. AS
for care, Mamie would do all that could
be done. I thought only of their bodies,
oftheir health and comfort, then. Who
was to minister to their opening hearts
and souls? Alas! / forgot that this
duty would accept no delegate.
I drew out my watch it was my faith
er's gift. | could not have touched then
the merest trinket Frederick had given
me-not even my clothes; though | said
to myself, II have earned them; scanty
enough the wages Ny ~writimg-Gcsk
was omen. and a letter half finished lay
on the portfolio. / had not expected
him home So soon. His letter had said
that by the time it reached me he would
be there ito receive my confession"
MY confession!' Was eve true wife
thus outraged!
| sat down and finished the page.
II have none to make, Frederick, a
TO God; not to thchusband never wrong
ed by word, or deed, or thought. since
he first kissed my lips / am going
away from you; not in anger. | do
not think it is anger, Tut | have Il
strange apathy toward you. My love is
dead, / think. | am going because we
make each other miserable, and yon will
be better without me. leave you your
children. They are a part Of you and
i'm this soullcss. frozen state it will cost
me little pain. Ishall put you aud them
away from my existence. Besides, |
could not support them. | take moth
ing with me but my fathers birthday
remembrance. Poor father! He little
thought the use it would be put to! You
can tell him anything yon like. | shall
V see him 10 undcceivc Him. Let the
world think What it will only yau have
children who will share any reproarh
that may he cast upon their mother.
hope you sill he happy. I would not
have a hair OF your head harmed, Int L
do not love you, you have crushed the
feeling ont
| tied on my bonnet rs quietly ~ if |
had been going for a walk, when | iaid
my pen down upon this farewell, and
wrapped q large warm shawl about me.
NV travcling-bag. with its little dress
ing-csse-one ofnly wedding gifts it had
been-hung near the window: aud with
this upon myarm | left the house, letting
the little gate clash to behind me with
ont So much as the looking back that
transfxed the fugitive Of old. hoped
that | should miss the children as | hur-
ried to the landing, for my watch warned
Ine that it was time for the boat which
would bring Frederick OH its return trip.
But no, there they We're, set like angels
in my pathway to bid ne tun back:
but the mute warning was uuhecdcd -
Mamie had brought them to the " ,1rT
side to see the pretty boat 90 by. AID
looked III me III surprise as | Canc sud
denly upon them.
Are you going to town, Miss Made
line :"
"Yes, Mamie: | lind l must. Take good
care of the Children
Then such Il pang as only tie dying
know in their farewclls, for both thcirin-
nocent faces were appraised TO mine.
Don't 90, mamma - And Freddy
caught at MY dress in his petted, tyrdn-
nical way, and my baby--my dear, dear
baby-stretched out her iittle arms to-
ward me, and drew up her rosy mouth
as l had taught her to do, trying all
those days to surprise her father with "A
real kiss of welcome.
Shame me, mothers who read this in
your own happy homes, with your little
ones playing about your feet! | turned
from them both, and spraug to the deck.
impatient of the ~momentary delay
There was a rocking, Singing motion as
the boat received the little freight piled
upon the wharf: a dull roaring i'll my
brain as | looked down upou the seething
water. But above the stir and trample
of feet 1 heard that sweet cooiug note as
the little IL clapped her hands, held
high i'll her nurses arm, TO catch 4
glimpse of mamma. | did not mean to
look at them again, but that sound
drew my face up like a call"
Now as Hay my pen aside until this
mist blurring the paper before me shall
have passed away, | see that loving face,
so full of life and eagerneSs, those arms.
stretched out to win me back. Oh. NY
child!
The beggar upon the sidewalk wonder