Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1869-05-05
The Humble Offering.

We were poor, and very proud Talk
about the pride Of the rich, those whose rank
and position have come down already achieved
and secured to them For what should the,
be proud But to the family who hay,
wrcstlcd all their lives for independence and
respectablity rising early and late, aud eat
ing the bread Of careiulness vigiautly OBJ
iterating the footmarks Of poverty lest the
public eye should note them making each
garment and each loaf do the duty of two,
that daily penny may be saved for greater
need, tin at last these well--aycd pennic.
swell to an humble competence aud the owner
looks with a laudabe pride on the battle,
fought and the victory won.
From such a family came my mother "a
her own humble but happy home, with her
few small beginnings. fairly earned beneath
the paternal roof She well knew that the
same long liie-strugglc remained TO her, for
my father was no richer and so thus she
girded herself trustingly and lovingly for the
work before her.
And the two worked ON together until they
became three, and four, and then five, and
my mother was glad that she never dreamed
Of any other road to wealth for them, well as
sured that she must have been disappointed
1t seemed even harder to get bread for the lit
tie ones than it had been at the old homestead
But then there was one reason--strange she
hadn't sooner thought Of that Her father
was deacon and daily asked for their daily
bread, and it was given them. She would
ask, for there was something wrong-some-
thing that had never come to them in the old
home. And so my mother began to pray for
bread, and though it did not always come,
there came something else to the heart Of the
poor woman.
And here | might as well tell you that the
demon intemperance had come to us. How
early it began to invade our premises | did
not then know, but | have since learned that
one day my grandfather took mother into the
front room, and talked long and faithfully Of
Benjamin Bailey, and his fears that he was
given to drink And mother had answered
that she would &" risk it," And so she took
the husband and the risk together.
1t is not necessary for me to recount all
that we suffered, or how we were brought
down by this beastly habit Of my poor father
| call him poor, for vile and wicked as he be
came, he was always kind and gentle, and Sc
comical in his drunken freaks. We children
would laugh nearly to commissions, but mother
never laughed at those times, seldom at any
time.
There was beneath the stairs that led tC
the loft, an old lounge that had, like its owner
seen better days. 1t was once the brightest
piece of furniture in our keeping-room.
Covered with gay patch and further distin'
guished by snowy tidy, it had given an all
Of comfort to the place. But the children
were unruly, and little feet had worn the GOV.
ering, and little hands had SHREDDED away, SO
that coarse wool that formed the stufiing stood
out in ragged patches, and together it was
dragged from its hiding place. 1t was there
that my father slept off his drunken fits, and
awoke to penitence and remorse. Nearer to
the dim fireplace was the door to a small in
ner room, that was the place where my mother
nestled the smaller children, and slept, and
prayed. That she did pray, was a profound
secret to me at the time. Had | known il
sooner, it might saved me from a strange
reek essness and hopelessness in one so young
One day my little brother Benny climbed
to my lap, and putting his ragged sleeves
around my neck, said Fanny why don't
you pray like mamma do2' | turned my
eyes to lay mothers pale face 10, it was pale
no longer, but burning hot all over, with
bushes in being detected in praying with her
| little ones.
"Do keep your dirty arms from my neck,
said |, giving the child push from me.
saw his soft eyes fill with tears, and his lip
culver with grief, and the next minute / wai
running down the hill back Of our house witt
great sobs of anguish bursting from my bosom
! / spent long time wandering by the brook
and when returned Benny had forgotten
his sorrow and called me to see a little fros
in a pail of water, which he insisted was hi
brother. Again my eyes soughtmy mothers