The Conservative. (M'connelsville, Ohio) 1866-1871, 1870-11-04

ton, on the other. Susan affected to be
fighting her children,s battles, when she
Opposed what she considered tyranny.
Her husband felt that all which he had
tried to do went for nothing, and
the children whose bread he earned
were taught to despiss him. This
was not the truth; for Susan
though she WAS unjust, never said a word
against her husband. save to him. or be
fore his face; there was left this little
spark Of truth and honor yet There were
occasional traces and attempts at peace
until the little girl was born, then the
worst of this divided house appeared. The
father was constantly on the watch, and
the thousand little nameless ways in which
own parentage shows itself. awakened
Susan's jealousy for her fatherless little
ones. And once, when Mr.. Powers struck
Harry because the baby was hurt in his
play, the mothers anger famed out
'What is she better than my boy2 1 wish
that she had never been born" And new
er in her fathers sight would she bestow
caress upon the child. When he was
out of the way, she made up for all.
At fifteen months old the child fell j.
It was bad summer for babies, and she
was teething; it was only weeks sick
ness, and she died. As they were putting
her into the little casket, her father turned
TO his wife, and said: This is as good as
what you wished" Susan dared not ask il
the grave were to be made in her lot, but
she hoped. till the very moment when the
carriage turned to the opposite path, and
the whole breadth of the cemetery lay be-
tween.
"I will never 90 there when he can
know" said Susan to herself And in this
frame of mind, filed with anguish for her
loss, with remorse for what she had allow
ed herself to say and feel while the child
lived, and with anger toward her husband,
she went to church on the Sunday after the
funeral, more for the sake of getting away
alone than for the hope that any word could
help her there She had never been in the
same place before.
1t was Friday morning. and the Rev. Mr..
Stanfeld sat in his study, attempting to
write a sermon Of consolation Two of his
parishoners had died that week, one old,
the other in the prime of life. He must
saw something of Heaven to the mourners-
He had the text written out: "Ye be-
lieve in God, believe also in me. Inmy
fathers house are many mansions" But
that was as far as he could go: the words
that he wanted would not come. He walk
ed out to try and work himself into the
mood, when instead of 1t there fell upon
him such sense of the worth of man as
man. such a vision of his capacities, such
wonders at his possibilities; there came
upon him such realization Of the soul.
apart from conditions, that he felt that 1t
must be written. What waste of time
with the work which must be done yet on
his handsi But he put at the top of his
paper, Eye are of more value than many
sparrows, and "For ye are also his of.
spring." Writing was no labor then, and
before he thought of it, there was SER
mon. 81 must pick out an old one for
Sunday" he thought: but on Saturday
night he determined to preach that. "It's
the word of the Lord to me from this
house, and will say it
Susan Powers heard that sermon; and ii
was the word of deliverance and peace to
her soul. She sat like one in dream till
the service ended; then rose and went ont
of the house, just casting one backward
glance at the man who had spoken to see
il he were not indeed an angel, then, with
q Hxed purpose in her heart, turned toward
her home. 'sI will try and keep my sight, !"
she said; 81 will not be blind again" For
she ,oas like one who had just received his
sight How all her life. to this hour, she
herself had been the center around which
the universe revolvedl Her rights, her
comforts, had been the important matters,
ana people were good or bad, according to
their treatment OF herl And yet life, her
life, had seemed only poor and mean.
No word of upbraiding, or Of warning. or
of threatening could have touched her as
this thought of the value of man had done.
"But how can let him know of this new
light that has come to me?" she asked her.
self '1f were to begin talking kindly, he
would think there was some purpose in it.
been wrong, he will not listen, or will say
soms cutting thing. What shall I do ?"
She thought of the children. but since
the baby's death he had never spoken,
not even to scold them. He went
in and out rs if they we're not in
the world. At the table their mother
gave them food which his money had
purchased, knowing that he hated them,
and feeling as if each morsel they ate was
choking her. Then the thought came of
the little grave, and how he would go
there alone at sunset; would she dare Of
fer to 90 with him2 No, her courage was
not equal to that. But there was some
thing she could do. She found that her
husband vas busy writing in his own
room; and quickly gathering her best
Ioveliest autumn flowers, she went to the
cemetery; tenderly, with tears that fell not
merely for her loss, she laid her offering
on the new grave. That little mound was
an altar, and this was an offering of love
and neace and of hope too.
That night, when Mr.. Powers came
home, his wife scarcely dare raise her eyes
to his face; though she longed to know if
her repentance was accepted. He said
nothing, but she fancied that his move
ments were gentler than usual, and he &C.
tually picked up one of the children's toys
and put it away; he was not used to touch
anything of theirs. All through the week
Susan watched to do kind things without
being obtrusive; aud when Sunday night
came, as he was leaving the house, her
bonnet and shawl were all ready; she said,
trembling, 81 Should like to go with you,
Philip" and, as he did not forbid, she
walked on by his side. Neither spoke,
but after little Susan timidly put her
hand on her husbands arm; .his he per-
mitted als5, and she felt that her offers of
peace were not despised.
Day by day she sought and made little
opportunities to show good will; not re-
ceiving direct encouragement, but not re-
PEELED, she per.evered, feeling constantly
that a little ground was gained. The great
wonder was that her own sense of wrorg
had vanished; she found herself beginning
to think first of his comfort and conven-
fence, to consider his interests, and to feel
real pain when the children incommoded
him In any way
Early in the autumn Harry was taken i'll,
of what soon proved pneumonia On the
second day, before Susan had realized that
it wss anything serious, their doctor came
in, saying: 'Your husband came round he
thinks had better see the lad" There
was a choking sensation in the moth
er's throat; it came to her like 6
fash that she had not wanted &
doctor for the baby at first; she had moi
thought him sick enough. Harry'i