Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1870-02-25

Then those grand old words came surg
ing up to me full Of hope and strength
an anthem of exultation:
Unto thyself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false TO any man.
The wedding was quiet affair; W,
were married by the gray-haired ole
pastor. who had dandcd ma on his knee
in habyhood, aud whose raven locks
had pulled 10 my hearts content-intC
whose pockets l had searched to fine
something good for little girls. OF al
the ministers had known, he alone was
the one to ofiiciate on this important oc
casion.
We moved into the same house will
Johns parents, and tried TO take the
place Of a daughter. OF course did no,
find everything as would like to have
it; but made allowance for the manner
in which we had boon brought up
Mother treated me kindly enough, but rs
If had no Judgment, and could hardly
be trusted alone with anything that re.
quired care or thought, it seemed that she
regarded me as child. TO be looked after
and made comfortable. Sometimes if
felt ready TO cry would say, For his
dear sake and dry my tears, and make
myself happy. Little trials, like the little
thorns on the thistles met me every day,
but had shod my ieet in anticipation.
tried not 10 draw any comparisons
between my two homes, but they would
come up to me.
One OF tho adornmcnts with which
Mother Wheeler beautilied the walls OF
her room was cat and two kittens cut
out OF black cloth and pinned on white
background. | grew very tired of the
round headed cats. and cautiously sug.
gested their removal. hut her oh no. |
like them silenced me did want the
snow white window curtains 10 be made
so long that they would just touch the
floor; but she wanted them made long
enough To reach only TO the window sills,
and starchcd so stifily that they ratified
like paper.
Overthe mirror in the sitting room were
long sprays of asparagus dropped, that
in the twilight looked like faint mist,
while the finest gilt and bronzed tail
feathers of slaughtered chickens inter
mingled with the delicate green. Her
sidc-saddle. with the crimson plush seat.
and bright brassy tiIings. always hung in
the best bedroom. and in the night its
dim outline would look like tho horned
head OF buffalo. IL was not for me-,
Johns young wife, Chatty, to say that its
time-honored place should be vacated,
and that it could hang in closet or in
the attic, out of sight.
Great lunches OF dried herbs hung from
the ceiling in the kitchen, while the very
choicest and most aromatic depended from
the walls of the sitting-room. Piles OF
bed clothes reared themselves up like
things of life from different and con-
[ ;, icuous corners of the room.
All this that shocked my ideas Of good
taste, gratified and pleased my mother,
who had been accustomed 10 these regu-
! lations all her life. John wanted 10 break
in upon her rules, but could not endure
the thought OF iinnoyatIon-of setting aside
her good old ways, and taking as it were
her work from her hands, just rs If she
hal ou,lived her usefulness. 1t would
have been cruel and thoughtless, and
would have given her fatal wound.
She had seen great deal of trouble
having brought up a large family. who
were married and living in homes OF their
own.
Death had taken from her two lovely
babes who were just beginning TO prattle {;
and one son, a young man, had met an
awful death by being dragged more than
a mile over n new road with his foot in
the stirrup. Her husband had been secu-
rity for a neighbor in the first years other
welded life, and had the debt to pay
Half OF The sum she had paid little by
| little, with butter and cheese, and dried
fruit and berries, she had gathered with
her nursing baby lying near her.
Otenwhile toiling thus the dishonest
rascal whose debt she was sacrificing her
self TO pay, would dash past her. clean
and soft handed. and stately and proud,
in his glittering carriage.
Oh, could |, an interloper, come into
her home and mark out new lines and
new duties, and crowd against the wall
this crowned old heroine? God blessing
me, said in my heart, l will be daugh-
ter unto you.
could see that my music was some
thing new that she did not likc-that her
lip would curl little when she would
touch my magazines and books of poetry {;
so most heartily did | sing sweet old
church music, and when / placed the
books on the table, would lay Pilgrims
Progress or a volum Of sermons, good,
old. well-read books. on mine. as though
intimating preference. 1t was little
thing, but mother understood it, and her
eyes would follow me with questioning
look, as much as to say, Il wonder if you
love me, Charity?" She always called me
Charity. sounding the y very distinctly.