The Shasta courier., 1869-07-03
"Pm afraid | am, sir" says I.

| -"Io' OHcSIcT we're HVluS, Salu lie,
you should stay here until you were we'll
but you know how it is. There's no one
to do anything. The children will kill
themselves | expect, and Bridget has al
ready set fire to the house and put whiting
in the biscuit instead of saleratus. Where
shall address-to whom shall / write p
Your friends must come for you"
7" Send me to the hopital;' says l, "and
sorry sir, to have troubled you so You're
none too comfortable, at best
Thank you," said he, with tears in his
eyes. Mrs Chester was such manager,
it does seem hard"
And then he went and did just what I'd
rather have died than done-sent for
Daniel, quite unknown to me-"
That night he came into the room with
his wife. She was pretty-no denying
that-and then | cried out
"No; go away Dan; want nothing to
do with you nor that bold actrrss wife of
yours. Send me to a hospital"
And he flushed red, and looked at me,
as if he might take me at my word. But
she put out her hand-a kid glove on it, the
extravaganza and, says she, whispering,
but heard her:
She's your mother, Dan. Do your
duty"
ell not have you insuted," said he
| don't mind hasty word" said she,
"and from an old woman"
" was angry, but couldn't say much
and they took me home.
was glad was in the bedroom 50 |
couldn't see how the kitchen had got I'd
rather been taken to my grave, and so |
made no secret of my hate for her, but (as
| thought them she was sly one to keep
her feelings to herself The doctor came
and was well nursed and grew better
Not kind word had | said to them, and
I'd forbid Hannah to come into the house
to my dead bed.
As soon as was well, Mr.. Chester would
have me back, and | said I'd 60 dozen
times day. [ meant it too, but before
the time came, great hogshead had rolled
down a hatchway upon Dan, and there he
lay between life and death, with this wife
of bis bending over him like crushed lily.
Oh, she was pretty-like a doll-fesh and
blood were never so like wax Don't think
liked her better for that.
So, now, all my anger was gone toward
Dan, and | must nurse him instead of 90
ing to Mr.. Chester's again; and my money
was gone, and there was very little in
i'll Dan purse. She knew nothing of econo-
my, that actress wife of his, and what could
We do but 20 to the poorhouSe coudn't t
tell. | was fit for no hard work yet
She came to me one day, with her
bonnet OF, says she:
Will you watch Dan awhile? | am
going out"
Go where you like says l, :" III care
for my son; | always have"
She gave me look, but never word,
and went
After that | saw her studying hard on
bits of paper, like girl at her lesson, aud
she went out almost every day used to
hate her for it and wouldn't keep cup of
tea warm for her even | guessed she
was going back to her old ways, and ono
night she told me so.
'Please leave the door unlatched," she
said, =" Pm going to play tonight, and
d0n tell Dan, mother.
She never called me mother before, and
[ looked at her.
is this a time to play?' says |, "your
husband at deaths door"
No. said she, aud broke down like a
a child. "No, but I've done it before
when have suffered as much, and he
must have medicines and food, and there's
the rent"
You mean to work for that says l.
"What else 2" asked she, and she went
1t was like seeing one 90 into a pit of
fire, for somehow began to think there
was a bit of good in her.
1t was weak for me to pity her
No doubt she enjoyed herself, and | did
And she thanked me, too; and took my
place with Dan until daylight came lie
thought she'd been asleep, and she never
told him
From that nightit began-my liking for
her, L mean. | saw her at her study
Hard at work over words longer than those
in the catechism. | saw her shaving over
dresses which she altered to save expense.
| saw her go out =" to rehearsal" she called
it, rain or shine saw her come home
from the play, looking like ghost, when
she had washed the rouge away; | heard
her praying for Dan better prayers than |
could have made myself | knew, actress
or not, that she was working herself to
death, and grew tender of her Tender
as II she'd been girl of my own.
At last, when my poor boy was well
enough to sit up, though it would be weeks
before he could walk yet, if he ever did,
and knew what she had done, and oh, it
was wonderful-the rent paid and the
doctor, and none of us starved, all by her
work 1t was-Id come to know, instead of
an idle life, that acting was just about the
hardest any one could live.
Would you believe, | used to 90 after
her, l, Baptist from the time felt con
cerned and then wasn't sixteen. to the
day wnen | was sixty, /, going to play
house to fetch home an actress 1t was
like going to a'place III give no name to.
lest | should be taken for one that uses bad
language, but the girl took under nv
arm was, as Dan had said long ago, as much
ike an angel as could be.