The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1866-02-22

| Mrs Lane, helpless. pretty little thing,
| scarcely knew what TO say Her heart
/ beat with tumultuous throbs of pity-her
/ ewes were full of tears in all her sunny
/ life she had never before been brought
/ in contact with actual, gaunt misery and
I destitution At last thought occurred
+ to her, and she uttered it eagerly
| IF you had a sewing machine now.
you could take work home when yon get
+ better, couldn't you, and support your
self and children so very nicely ?
The woman sighed deep. uncon-
/ scious sigh of heartfelt longing.
! "Yes, maam, l could, but YOU know
that's an impossible u. l can never get
I one I'll be only too thankful if l can
get well enough to go out again by the
day If don't, don't know what will
become of the children. y
| But God knows" whispered Mrs
Lane. softly. 50 He pities us, you know,
as father pities his children.
Then came Ellen with coal and kind
lings, and the subject was not alluded to
again.
When their five o'clock dinner was
over, that afternoon. John Lane went
gaily into the sitting-room with his wife
He had pleasant sarprise for her, and
be laid it in her lap, in the shape Of a
check for two hundred dollars.
There, hummibg bird, he said,
lightly, there's for your carpet. Bus
mess mas prospered this year, and what
is it good for but to make home bright
and wife happy 2"
She turned her face and touched her
lips silently to the kind hand resting on
her shoulder. Perhaps John VAS disap-
pointed that she expressed her pleasure
so quietly. He had anticipated her gay
laugh of merry exultation, her delighted
chat about colors and pattern. Her new
mood surprised him. He sat down be-
side her gravely, and waited for her to
speak.
She told him, then, the story of her
day, leaving out nothing. He could see
how deeply she had been moved. by the
color which came and went on her cheeks,
the tears which gathered UNDECIDED in
her eyes. When she was all through,
she said hesitatingly-
John, we are happy, are we not?'
:" Yes, dear. p"
"And we owe something, don't we, to
those who are less so ? Think John, if
| had lost you as she lost her husband
And if had not only lost you, but had
afterwards no way to live =
She paused, as if for encouragement,
but she received none. John Lane was
beginning to get a glimpse of a new
phase in his little wife's character, and
he meant she should bring out her own
ideas unaided. She began to fear that
she could not interest him. She went
on timidly enough, but very earnestly:
8 a part of two hundred dollars, John.
would buy that we12aa the necessaries
which would make her comfortable, and
she would soon be well again, for her
disease is only the result Of exposure and
over-work. Then the rest of it would
buy her sewing machine. and she could
get along nicely with that. She wouldn't
need any more help
Still Mr. Lane was silent, and she drew
a little nearer to him, and began smooth
ing his big fingers with her own little
ones.
Il know, y ohm, dear. she said, coax
ingly, that two hundred dollars would
be too much to ask you for, in any one
charity; but l have set my heart on
really and substantially helping this
poor, bereft woman. Our drawing room
carpet really looks very nicely-you
know you thought it would do, this morn
ing. And if, just this once, l mi ght have
the two hundred dollars to do this good
deed with, and keep the old carpet down,
it would make me so happy. just
think, John, that poor widow, and those
little children would say your name ev-
cry day in their prayers, and they would
be made com Portable for life. May |,
John?'
John Lane bent down and kissed the
tender. eager face. I'm afraid his eyes
were too dim just then to to see all its
brightness
Are you sure, dear he asked. gent
ly, that you would be satisfied with the
old carpet? ,"
Quite sure, John. 1t shall last as
long as the Wilton would. Oh, John, l
never did any good in my life. Let me
do this little now >
Annie, you shall
That great, manly heart was too full
just then, for many words, bat by the
firm clasp which held her SO tenderly,
Annie Lane knew that her husband was
not displeased.
She carried ont all her plans. By
August, airs. Stanton was well again,
and the sewing machine stood at the
window OF her comfortably furnished
room. To her the face Of Annie Lane
seemed like the face Of an angel--God' 5
messenger she has indeed been to the
widow and the fatherless think there
is one woman whose heart will never be
moved to envy by Wilton carpets or wide
! bordered shawls, since she has tasted the
/ luxury of doing good. john Lane loved
/ her well when she was his gay, laughing
child wife; but he loves her now with
a holier, deeper tenderness that reaches
/ through time and takes bold on eternity.