Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1866-10-11
SGletted Ta1e.
MY CROSS.

We sat alone grandmother and l. She
was my fathers mother, and had left a
comfortable home of her own to come to US
when my mother died. was only ten years
old then, and during the eight years since
she had hardly let me find out what it was
to be notherless. Father had never mar
ried again-partly, think, because he had
loved my mother with all his heart, and
had no room left in it for any new conner (;
and partly, doubtless, because grandmoth-
er had made home so entirely comfortable
and homelike that he had never experience
ed those thousand little domestic discom-
forts which sting so many widowers into
matrimony.
The room we sat in this spring afternoon
was the very heart of home, and looked SO.
large, low room, with oak wainscoting
and old-fashioned windows. There was a
carpet on the floor of sombre but warm col
ors on the walls, at one side, oaken book
shelves, well-filled some plants on stand
at south window; brackets here and
there, with little vases and ornaments, some
Of which had been my mothers low easy
chairs and on the hearth a bright open
FIRE. Grandmother sat at one side of the
iOuuu ldDlC DCIWCCL ubJ WlbS 0ISoAhJ
and placidly. The long seam up the mid
die of sheet her work was, remember,
and it made me almost angry to see how
steadily she plodded along it, how content
ed she was to fill up each day with its own
commonplace tasks. l grew nervous. My
embroidery cotton knotted, then broke,
then the eye came out of my needle. | took
new one, and pricked my finger with it.
threw my work down, at last, with some
thing like temper
GRANDMOTHER" I exclaimed, "what a
disappointment life is But then we are
not meant, suppose, to find our happiness
here !" and when had said that | seemed
to myself to have given a religious color
ing to my emotions, and felt little more
selfComplacent.
The dear old lady smiled slightly
caught twinkle of humor ia her eyes,
though she kept it out of her voice-as she
answered gravely:
1T is lesson we all learn, as we get
on i'll life, Helen but not every one has
the wisdom to discover it at eighteen"
Every one would, think" said hotly,
if every thing on which they set their
hearts had disappointed them. Life looks
to me as barren as the Great Desert"
Grandmother laid down her work for a
moment, and gave me searching, inquisi
torial glance.
Have you and Joe been quarreling p
she asked.
Joe Scarborough was my lover. had
been engaged to him six months. | dt0
love him. tcas proud of him. He was a
great, strong, manly, fellow gentleman
all through, though he was farmers son
and understood rotation of crops better
than changes of fashion.
"No," said, "Joe and l have not quar-
relied. Joe won't quarrel, but he is doing
me great injustice"
Joe was grandmother's prime favorite
She took up the cudgels at once in his de
tense.
THAT is not like him, Helen; and now
of all times, | should think he was too sat
for injustice"
She said "now, of all times" becaus,
last week his father had died very sudden
ly, and she knew that Joe had loved hin
more than most sons love their fathers 81
had such a great, warm heart that all hi
feelings lay deep--all his affections wer,
stronger than most mems.
answered her with a question
Grandmother, if you had accepted on
kind of life, would you feel bound by sucl
pledge to accept another entirely differ
ent? If man promised you to do on
thing, and then coolly told you that he hat
made up his mind to do another, woul'
you not think it injustice, or perhaps i'm
position 2"
81 think" she said, gravely, "that Gil
cumstances alter cases, and l can't pre-
nounce On this case until l understand it.
when Joe asked me to marry him b