The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1868-07-16


1t was mans trick, and-here she
sobbed outright, he never had mother
to train him, poor fellow; he'd been
knocked around from pillar to post, all
his life, till he got married. and now he
would have to knock around again, for of
course he couldn't get married right away
| keeper, and she worry the life out OF
| he ever find one that would love him as
she had and did the love was there yet
yelling and OVERLOOKING.
She went into the kitchen, hardly know
ing why; driven perhaps by the force of
habit. There stood the table, laid for
| dinner, and SO neatly; the cloth white
| and In its creases; the plates and glasses
shining brightly; the knives and forks
polish ed to almost silver wilderness. She
gave it one look and mechanically opened
the stove oven. The chicken was brown
ed nicely: George liked roast chicken
better than frcasse, SO that she had
cooked 1t in that way. The potltoes and
turnlps We're dancing merry jlgs in the
pot and the ea-kettle was softly hum
ming. The mince pie stood on the
hearth warming itself quietly and exhal-
ing spicy odor that was tempting even
to dyspeptic stomach.
Such nice dinner and no one to eat
it, L wish-I wish-I hadn't been so
cross to him. | began it and kept it up,
too; he wasn't cross first; he held out
till | made him mad 0, dear [ wish
l do wish it didn't worry me to see
things lying around. [ wish he was more
careful, thoughtful-such dear, good
fellow he is, about everything else. New
er scolds when bills come in, like Han
nah Benton S husband. Mercy [ don't
know how she lives with him. And he's
hardly have to ask him for cent; I
manage as Carrie Stanford does to get
dollar ort Of Jim. If | had such a man
Id ID leave him, if [ had to work my
fingers to the bone to earn my own living.
And he wants me to have girl and be
dressed UP all the while, and read, and
practice, and 60 out with him, land there's
poor little Mary Miller. that never sits
down once a week. but is forever stewing
in the kitchen, and never word of thanks,
Joe always wondering why she don't do
more than she does He ought to go to
a tread mill himself And he never
tastes a drop of liquor, nor wouldn't for
the world, and there's Nelly Gray's sot of
a husband coming home beastly drunk
every night of his life, and soaring the
life out Of her I'd see him drowned
before f. live with him. And he new
er smokes, nor chews, while you never go
into anybody's house hardly, without
standing over spittoons, or being suffoca-
ted without somebody's pipe or cigar
Dear me- [ should die in week, if |
had to live that way. And he is always
SO good natured too, never gave me
cross word till to-day" but here she broke
down entirely, sob after sob tearing away
in her throat and threatening to choke
her.
The paroxysm was too violent to last
long. As it subdued, she dashed off the
tears that flooded her cheeks, wiped her
eyes, brushed back her hair, and going
to the sink, bathed her face thoroughly.
Then she stood a few minutes as if gath
ering up resolution, calm, beautiful ex
preston playing about her lips.
The words of her old pastor had come
back to her all at once as she sat there
weeping. The words he had spoken to
her the evening before her marriage.
"My little girl, you have made good
choice. George Graham, your promised
husband, is young man of good princi-
pies and good disposition, and will do his
best to make you happy. But he is not
perfect, no man IS. And you must be
patient with his failings; always patient.
One cross word leads to another, and that
to another. till by and by there quar-
rel, and then, good-by to happiness !
Don't scold, but coax, don't drive but
lead. And ifyou ever get tired with him
think how much worse 1t might have
been. Aud always, always remember
that he is no saint, but only man NOR
tai and weak. Be it your work, little girl
to make his earthly home a happy one, and
lead him onward and upward towards that
holier one not made with hands.
Dead, and yet speaketh, she said
solemnly, as that long, earnest talk came
back to her. ''And-and, I'll do it any
way. If he won't forgive, if he won t
agree to begin again and try it over, why
oh, | never, never can go out alone into
the world and see him married to anoth-
er woman. Oh, I'll never say another
word, | won't, not one. If he has every
chair piled to the ceiling with coats and
pants, and the floor waist deep with boots
| and rubbers. [ don't see what made me
speak so cross to him. I'll get girl, to-
morrow-somebody that can cook better
than [, and I'll take his things myself
and take care of them. What must he
have thought of me to hear me say such
dreadful thingsl"
| And filling up the stove with coal
draining the water off the vegetables, and
| leaving the oven door open, she ran up
stairs and put on her sacque and bonnet,
Selling her muf and gloves, and locking
the door after her, went out
1t was bitter cold, but she did not mind
it. The wind was driving the sleet into
her face, but she only drew her vail closer
over her swollen eyes and hurried on. 1t
was slippery as glass, but her gathered
feet ran along as if sharp shod. She had
but one thought-to see George again,
tell him how sorry she was, land bring him
| back to dinner.
With shoutand ''hurra y little fell
| low came coasting down one of the cross
streets Just as she had set her foot on the
curb-stone. The sled whirled, zig Jagged
a moment, and then run her down. She
screamed involuntarily, and as she fell,
put out her hands imploringly. Some
one clasped them, held them tightly for
| a brief SPELL and then assisted her to her
feet. Some one spoke to her. Some one
drew aside her vail Some one looked
pityingly into her eyes. Who was it,
think you?
ooh George I am so glad you hap
pened here. was going down to the
office after you. F"
"Were you, Susie? and was coming
up to the house to see you"
He looked about him a few seconds, and
then said meaningly, Just halt sody and
zee met. y
The next minute he was tucking her
little hand under his elbow, and guiding
! her back home walking slowly cautious