The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1866-04-26
THE MISNOwS WITH SILVER TAILS.
A story Told to a Child.
BY JEAN INGELow.


In Tom Turner's cottage. When it
struck one, Toms wife laid the baby
on the cradle and took sauce pan off
the fire, from which came a very saw
DRY smell.
Her two little children, who had
been playing in the open doorway, ran
to the table, and began softly to drum
upon it with their puter spoons, look
ing earnestly at their mother, as she
turned nice little piece of pork into
a dish, and set green's and potatoes
around it. They fetched the salt;
then they set chair for their father,
brought their own stools, and pulled
their mothers rocking-chair close to
the table.
Run to the door, Billy, said the
mother, and see if fathers coming. ,"
Billy ran to the door, and, after the
fashion Of little children, looked first
the right way, and then the wrong
way; but no father was to be seen.
Presently the mother followed him,
and shaded her eyes with her hand,
for the sun was hot. If father doesn't
come soon, she observed, ''the APP
ple-dumpling will be too much done,
BY deal. = .... ss..r
There he is cried the little boy;
he is coming around by the bridge.
Oh, father, make haste, and have
some apple-dumpling.
Tom, said his wife, as he came
near, art tired to-day"
Uncommon tired,s' saidaTom and
he threw himself on the bench in the
shadow of the thatch.
Has anything gone wrong?" asked
his wife. " What's the matter?''
Natter" repeated Tom, is any
thing the matter? The matter is this,
mother: that I'm a miserable hard
worked slave" and he clapped his
hands upon his knees and muttered,
in deep voice, which frightened the
children" miserable slave''
g Bless us n said the wife, who could
not make out what he meant.
A miserable, ill-used slave" con-
tinued Tom, and always have beenD
:" Always have been,n said his wife,
why, father, I thought thou used to
say, at the election time, that thou
vast free born Briton."
Women. have no business with
politics, said Tom, getting up rather
sulkily. And whetheri it was the force
of habit, or the smell OF. the dinner,
that made him do it has not been as
certained, but it is certain he walked
into the house, ate plenty of pork and
beans, and then took tolerable share
in demolishing the apple-dumpling.
When the little children were gone
out to play, his wife said to him,
Tom, / hope thou and master haven I
had words today"
Master said Tom, yes, pretty
master he has been; and pretty slave
4l..e- AAAD---n aaa,t-tnll ia aaa14 4f M aa-
20, Tom, Tom,' cried his wife.
but he's been a good master to you.
fourteen shillings a week, regular
wages-that's not thing to make a
sneer at; and think how warm the
children are Tapped up o. winter
nights, and you with as good shoes on
your feet as ever kept them out of the
mud
What of that? said Tom. isn't
my labor worth the money? I'm not
beholden to my employer. He gets as
good from me as he gives = g
6 Very like, Tom. There's not a
man for miles around that can match
you at graft; and as to early peas
but if master can't do without you.
I'm sure you can't do without him.
oh, dear, to think that you and he
would have words. IS
We've had no words said Tom.
ilnpatiently; but I'm sick of being
at another mans beck and call. Tt 5
Tom, do this, and Tom, do that,
and nothing but work, work, work
from Monday morning till Saturday
night; and | was thinking, as | walk
ed over to Squire Morton to ask for
the turnip seed for master. / was
thinking, Sally, that l am nothing
but poor working man after all. In
short, | am slave, and my spirit
won't stand it"
So saying, Tom flung himself out at
the cottage door, and his wife thought
he was going back to his work as
usual. But she was mistaken; he
walked to the wood, and there, when
he came to the border of the little
linking stream, he sat down, and be-
gan to brood over his grievances. 1t
was very hot day.
Now, I'll tell you what" said
Tom to himself, it's great deal
pleasanter sitting here in the shade
than broiling over celery trenches
and then thinning.off wall fruit with
baking sun at ones back, and hot
wall before ones eyes, But I'm a
miserable slave Unjust either work
or see 'em starye; a very hard lot to
be a working man. But it is not on
" the work that 1 complain of, but
being obliged to work just as he
pEeases. It's enough to spoil any
mans temper to be told to dig up