The Portland daily press., 1869-11-06

nave waited I'LL was a little calm, but came
ri9ht mere from the field, as fast and as mad
as could come. You mustn't mind me, Mis-.
wneeler' sad the man, with eyes that want,
ca 10 cry as ne stood there so ashamed ana
embarrassed that he'd turned his hat inside Out
hall dozen tunes, and twisted the rim into
all sorts oil shapes, -.
"Why, bless you, Nathan, Pm not bit
mad" said MOTHER reaching out her hand
6 but you took me so by surprise, just SAID
the first thing thought Of ! take fire just
like dry tow; but couldn't hold spite at We, if
,e shot every crItter on the farm"
Just then the men came in from hunting
the horses, and made apologies, and said he
should be well paid for damages, etc; but
Nathan went Off blushing and saving he
wouldn't take cent OF pay; be was asbam-
ed OF b mself, and that bis wife bad his break
fast waiting tor him, and away he ran with his
hat crammed down Oh his head with the cot
ton lining on the outside.
inns little incident showed that mother vas
KIND hearted, reasonable woman, and 1 be-
gan TO think my uncle Peter Whitaker was
himself to blame if he did not find her good,
obiging neighbor.9 FL AA p
l often hao hard work TO keep myself under
proper restraints. az
One day my mind bad been dwelling upon
my school days, and felt in mood tor writ
ing. In the afternoon l dressed up fresh
", in my newest white dress, and went awav;
up stairs where could be undsturbed. had
written two verses, and was deeply in the en-
joyment OF the coming poem, The Meadow
Path,' when heard great commotion, and
squalling and futtering among the geese, and
going down stairs the cause was apparent +
Mother met me at the gate in such OUTLAW
dish attire that old not know her. She wore a
dlngy Old flannel dress, her neck bundled I'D
with cotton shawl, and handkerchief tieo
around her head, SO as to cover Ler ears and
hail. lr1 70 .ffo.S III
She said the geese were all at home now,
and she was AFRAID o! rain, al thought we'd
better pick them that afternoon. L couldn't
write verses only when the poetical mood was
upon me, and didn't know when that would
De again; and was SO sorely disappointed l
cried. i-- o- ~ rs
She saw my red eyes, and, divining the rea-
son, said, Oh, You'll have to dropa good ma
er's wiiew
So ] dressed up after the fashion of women
who pick geese, and worried through as long
an afternoon as ever lived. My head ached, ,
and my poor arms were bitten over with blue
spots, and was so tired and low-spirited that
could hardly keep from crying right before
John. iei
Sometime in the night was Weakened by
low moaning sound coming from mothers
room. l threw shawl over my shoulders and
softly drew near her bed, when l heard her
suppressed cries OF pain. / said, "Are you
! sick mother?D q TltsrsE gisssfE
Is that you, Chatty ?" she replied, with a.
sense OF relief in her tones; =" DON'T let me
disturb you-you are tiled and need your
sleep. Oh, nv body and limbs ale cramped
and cold, but may be IN get warm pretty soon,
and ieel better 60 to your bed, and don't let
me disturb you" IllaHffE NE
laid my hand on her forehead, and it was
cold and clammy, and big drops of sweat stood
upon it, l soon heated water and made teas.
and wrapped her in warm flannel, and before
half an hour she was comfortable. As she
became easy she closed her eyes, and was
sinking into restiul slumber, when 1 touched
my lips in blessing upon her forehead.
oh, Chatty, child of mine," she said, cry
ing right out; Eve never been half good
enough to you. should not have taken YOU
from your writing to-day; you little, tender
thing, what pity you fell into such cruel
hands. Ssgo7lfI5l3. vset -tiiiaP, -
l slid my arm around her neck and gather
ed her 10 my bosom, and cried over the dear
old broken-down mother-the woman of
many sorrows, stricken when in tull leaf and
blossom with blight that would have been
death to any other less brave, and noble, and
true.
crept into the bed beside her. and Just as
she was sinking into sweet and painless
sleep, her tremulous voice said: ~, i
"Chatty, don't ever tell it, but it is the
truth, never did ole OF my daughters come to
me III answer to my means Of distress when
I was sick at nigh. Why was it? Didn't
they love me as much as you COZ"
soothed her by saying | had always been
the little nurse and doctor at home, and nv
ear was ever open to catch any CRY of pam.
1t Gained her, and she rested until morning.
Little things like this drew us together and
soon we became warmly attached to each
other. Oh, we had pleasant times together
my mother-in-law and l. b a.
When wee baby Charlie came to me, the
little pink and white flower, his grandmother
op'ned her arms to him as though he was a
great blessing sent to her IRON Heaven. He
touched her heart and filled it with iov she
had never known before The fountains of
my own soul were opened, and lie assumed
new realities and new beauties, and a sweet
song OF newness broke fiom my lips and
flooded my soul. s"'-'f fA
Crowned with motherhood, I walked with
Ieet anoILted, and the glory of the stars
seemed to gather about my brow. A /
From the tine that mother was attacked |
with sickness in the night she seemed to fail |
and TO grow more and more lovely as she |
gradually faded from eartb She wouI sit |
Tor hours and play with the baby, and laugh |
1t bis 1unny little ways. and think that he
looked just like her babies who had lain un-
Ter the sod for twenty years. .4qsJ
1t is very pleasant to die thus-ike a lipbt /
growing DINNER and DINNER, like the sunset
TINT fading from the hill-tops, into a soft twi-
llght-cfeeping into the dimness of darkness
gradually. -1-''-'
The last summer we lived together we had
not much work 10 do. and looked back now
to that May and June and October as I
would eGber song, or poem, or book
'ead by the seaside, or something that gave
ne sweet pleasure and lett but beautiful
memories. ai. l3.aIH ~ rI ~ -
After she was confined to her bed, she
would lie and watch me, and follow nv foot
y, ps with tender. loving gaze-eyes full of
the night OF love, and often she would say to
me: oh, Chatty, You my best child! l |
know have been stern and cold, but YOU |
have always been the same dutiful daughter. |
You have overlooked my faults, and YOU have |
kept BACK the unkind reply many time |
wnen was unjust to you. You have helped
TO make me better woman than was. and |
Tor all this, you know, l bless and love youp'
I'd, how much better it was for me now.
that had yielded my will and my wishes to
hers in the few years of my married life. and
treated her respectfully, too, in the appoint
ments OF her own household! What to me
was the praise or blame of my butterfly
liisnas now, III comparison to the god will |
anS earnest love of my husbands mother?
Before mother died was her nurse Tor sew
en- weeks she would have no other. | gave
her medicine and attended to her wants, tax
ing rest as best could. could not have en-
dured much Ion ger; was worn and pale and |
him, and felt all the time as if were dream
ing. :
one morning sat in the rocking chair be-
'lde her; John held the baby as he sat on the
,ther side OF the bed. Her hand was in mine
ler little, blue ve,ned, wasted hand, on which
vas beautiful ring, the gift of brother who
lad died far away from home. -as4l
She said in low voice, looking fondly unon
ne: "Chatty, you are so tired; but you will
lot have mother to care for tonight. wish
'ou would take off this ring and put it on
lour own hand, and wear it for nv sake.
whenever you look at it, remember what i
AVE often told you lately-how dear you are
% me, how much love you" tgt'
Before noon of that day the strange silence
u death came stealing over her face. knew
What it meant. We bad SO grown together
t was like rendiDg life from me to part with
Ter, and with cry fell back fainting. Dying,
Is she was, she heard the fall and turned her
leal to look, and died with her last long gaze
ixed- oh, so tenderly and lovingly! upon
ne. =.
And this is my testimony-the record Of
'ne mother in-law; and tell it believing it
nay do good. and perhaps be light and
amp to the feet of those who may Lave and
hold in their hearts the desire TO do unto
others as they would have others do unto
hem. las-ssas .....lf .ITsr