The Shasta courier., 1870-04-16
NUMBER 4.

Look, mother I'm going into sentences
now, like Frank. It's nv first COPY. The
master wrote it and be said was to get it
by heart too. and always remember it. Do
read it, mother"
Mrs. Thompson, her arms full Of the
cracked mulberry plates, paused moment
to let her eyes fall on the new copy. IA
soft answer turneth away wrath" was what
she read. Itwas not that the proverb was
new: she had read it scores Of times; but
there was something in its appropriateness
to the present moment that fell like cool
sweet wind on her heated pulses.
II will have it ready in moment, Robert
she said quietly.
Mr.. Robert Thompson looked up. Evil
IDENTIFY he had not expected so pleasant a
reply. If the truth must be told, he had
thought a good bit that morning of his
wife's request about the white ware. Not in
the way of granting it; but that she would
probably be sulky over it when they got
into dinner.
sit doesn't feel here as it does in that
blazing meadow" he remarked to his friends
as they went into the cool north room to
dinner. Folks that can keep in doors this
weather have an easy time of it: they don't
know what heat is
Mrs. Thompson wondered whether this
was slap at her. Her face looked scarlet
enough for anv amount of heat. As to
sitting down with them, she had enough to
do to wait on the party. 1t was washing
day, and Molly must not be called.
This butter must have been kept in the
kitchen: it's like OIL" said Mr.. Thompson.
Il took it out of the cellar since you came
in; | will go down and get some more if
you think | had better" was the reply,
given pleasantly. q
Never mind. Well, I declare do YOU
call this meat boiled ?' went on Mr.. Thomp
son as he began to carve IDS harder
than a rock. If meat has to be cooked
pretty fresh this weather, it needn't be like
this'
Il tried to have it nice, Robert" she said,
striving to choke down rising sob-as
well as an angry word.
Mr.. Thompson, aroused by a culver in
the tone, looked at his wife his friends
glanced at one another. She sat down at
length, but could not eat. Mr.. Thompson
finished his dinner in silence.
He was watching his wife's face: there
was something in it he did not understands
kind of patient, hopeless look, as if she no
longer cared to struggle onwards. The old
white table cloth: almost too bad Cor these
chums of his to sit down to- he wondered he
had never thought SO before Robert Thomp-
son grew thoughtful
lie passed into the kitchen when they
were going out again-how hot and sitting
it felt with that big fire-as bad as the south
meadow. His wife had been in it cooking
that must have made her face scarlet. In
doors was not SO comfortable a place, after
all, if you had hot work to do, was the idea
that fitted through his mind. And-perhaps
the work was over-much for his wife, who
at best was but a delicate woman
A fresh, cool breeze had sprung up from
the south, as he went out, walking SLOWLY
but the sun was burning hot still Robert
Thompson waited to wipe his brows and in
that moment the voices of his comrades
came toward him from the other side of the
hedge, where they stood in the little shade
it cast.
II never pitied a woman 40 much in nv
life," quoth one of them .'She works like
aelave; and does not get even thank ye' for
it from Thompson. He's good fellow. but
uncommon down upon the work. Strong as
a horse himself, he thinks, suppose, women
must be the same"
Yes, Bob's sterling good fellow, but
Jane Lawrence made mistake when she
said yes to his asking" cried the other.
Jones, she wasn't cut out for farmers
wife-especially one who keeps his folks to
it like Thompson does. She's over sensitive
delicate ; any lady but her would have
turned long ago and bid him give her proper
help. He won't make his money out of her
many years if he don't take better care of
her; she'll run down fast. Awfully changed,
H. - LII Al Il -
rooms and they haven't seen coat of paint
since grandfather Thompson's day."
''Ah, she'd better have taken Joe Burn
ham. The Lawrences used to have things
nice in their home, and she'd have got 'em
so still, if she'd married Joe. His wife's
just gone out in her pony-shay. | say, Jones,
wonder whether Thompson's wiies ever
sorry?"
Was she? The unconscious comments of
these, his warm friends, came crushing
down on Robert Thompson's heart and brain
like bolt of fire. That she rejected Burn
ham for him, he knew, when she came home
to the old homestead. and took care of his,
invalid mother. Tenderly had she done it,
too. And-could she be wearing out her
life in hard work for him ; she, the mother
of his BOYS: she whom he loved well, for
all his churlishness Robert Thompson stole
away he could bear his thoughts 40 longer;
he felt that he could almost kill himself for
his blind heedlessness.
The afternoon wore on towards evening
Mrs. Thompson had finished her in door
work-the washing up of the dinner dishes
and the putting of the rooms straight-and
was going in with an armful of fine things
that she had taken from the clothes lines.
when the sound of wheels made her LOOK
round.
"Ive brought that white ware, Mrs.
Thompson, said the brisk voice Of Grover.
springing from his cart, and lifting down
carefully large hamper.
But didn't order it. Mr.. Grover" she
rejoned in rather frightened voice.
"The master did, though. Mr.. Thompson
came down this afternoon aud said the
things was to come up to you a. once There's
the dinner set you admired, aud atea set as
well. Where shall put 'em ?"
Bring them in, please" she answered
rather family. He did as he was bid, and
then drove off.
Mrs. Thompson sat down by the hamper
of crockery and cried as if her heart would
break. They were magical tears, too, for
they washed all the weariness and despair
from her face, and the shadow from her eyc
and heart. She forgot that she was tired. o.
that the day was hot: she only thought how