Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1867-04-14
THE SCALE OF WOMEN.
BY EMILE soUvEsrm
1857.
rFAsssATrp roe the ArPEAI-
THE W OMAN OF THE PEOPLE
onAPTEr II.

/ NIEtfI Nlt.NE.
But, where has my husband stopped? And no No
wood on the hearth aud not inorsel Of oFeit
/ n the housei- Nothirg but sorrow and mt
/ ery. lVKANER. the 2if}s Of FeeTunI' y
| About eight months had passed since the ac-
coucIsrneut of the wife Of COsquer.
II wzsone OF those winter nightsthas we see
on the shores Of the ocean Tie atmosphere
misty and cold. Tesounded with tiseTesue roar.
ing ef storm. The oloez Of the Church Saint
Louis had struck eleven
/ Margaret was cronehed II the Gre place,
where q remnant OF fire was dying out The
vouua woman retained no trace OF her former
b-auty. Her face, elayey and sinkisd, was
liehfel by two great haggard eyer, whose lids
we're redeemed by tears. On her kaeeslay the
little Marie, Whose difficult breathing was at
every Instant Interrupted by tlse conyulsions
OF the wiiooping- couga. Amid the silent OBJ
seurltv of the disfurnished room. these horrib,e
stridsnt hEssings OF the cough that rsntt the
chlld's chest had In them something sinister,
ike deafh-ratile Of one in agony. Ia The
distance were heard Che roaring OF the sea-
wind only, and the cries OF the wafchn1eEs ey-
ing away down the long street OF aisIn.
At last the IRE died entirely out On the sad
hearth, and the room remained ID Darkness
Then Margaret heard, in the opposite corner
Of The fireplace, s ehsttering OF teeth, followed
by plalntiye moans.
-catherinel Catherine, cried the sIarmed
mother, what ais thee, child ixiay doft shSH.
moan rs.s.4 4. :
A scarcely artieulate voice rasas stzslf heara
IN the darkness.
My mother am cold.
Come here. Catharlne. kug close 10 me-
Give me thy hand, child Thy hand, do not
feel II.
1t is in thine, my mother.
II am very cold then, say?
-Oht yes, thy hands freeze me.
Margaret quickly drew back her arms, which
she had stretcEed out towards her daughter.
Ny God she said, If only had the fever, as
on yesterday and cou'd wa miner 1 am very
unfortunate.
Where is my father said the child, cling
isg to her mother, and wrapping herself IN her
clothes.
i don't know, Catherine.
viii he bring Us something to eat9
Art thou hungry, too, child7 asked the
young wom8n, in voice fall OF sorrow.
TIE little girl noticed the plaintive accent
On not much. my mother, she said In
low voice. II could only sleep, should not
think of that.
Margaret took from her own shoulders
Of the chilli; ard then, searching for the best
sheltered corner of the Fireplace. shs put her
there, tenderly endeavoring % lullher TO sleep.
The child closed her eyes, and soon sfsl into
tha. kind OF somnolence which follows the
struggle OF unering against " Weariuess. After
little. the in ant also slept; and soon ali was
hushed in mournful repOse.
Then a heavy, reeliDg step resonnded out
side, and Cosquer made his appearance, drunk,
and his pipe in his mouth.
He advanced, staggering, TO the middle Of the
room, his eyes not yet accustomed 20 the dark
ness that enyeloped him, and he cropping his
way 10 the hearth, which no CLEAN Of light in
dlcated 10 him.
Margaret he said, in tone OF Irritation.
Three times he repeated the call, without
obtaining any reply.
Then, voice as harsh and hoarse as his own,
said:
-WeuF
Bastard of priest, why is there no are'or
~