Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1870-02-07
NO. 80.

some rooms, instead OF having all to them
selves, as Susan had hoped.
No two persons could begin life together
with less realization of what each was to
bear and forbear. The husband, now
past forty, had been bachelor, waited on
as person of consideration in the house
where he had boarded for fifteen wears.
Susans first husband had treated her with
tenderness and consideration, much as if
she were child. Now these two had
come together, one because sweet face,
made interesting by its black surround
ings, had charmed him; the other because
she wanted provision for her children.
When the hard places came, they were the
harder that neither had any stock of ex-
perience to draw from. Mr. Powers had
no thought of reconstructing his habits to
suit a house with three young children in
it. Susan had no intention of keeping her
children from noisy play, or of sending
them to bed early, to suit his whims. Ii
he had always spoken, and it was done,
then a little change would be we'll for
him. He thought little discipline, in
the way of suppression, would be good
for the young ones.
In half Il year there was open warfare.
Mr.. Powers had learned to dislike, almost
to hate, his step-children they to dread
and to dislike him; their mother to COM
pare her life with what it might have been,
had she struggled on alone, or, more dam
gerous still, with what it would have been,
had Henry lived. And one day, in the
course of some dispute, she said the bitter
things that she had thought. From that
day they lived over smoldering volcano;
jealous sense of wrong on one side self
assertion in spite of shame and humilia-
ton, ON the other. Susan affected to be
lighting 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 that the chill
dren whose bread he earned, were taught
to despise him. This was not the truth;
for Susan, though she was unjust, never
said word against her husband, save to
him or before his face: there was left this
little spark of truth and honor yet. There
We're occasional truces 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, awak-
ened Susan's jealousy for her fatherless
ones. Ald once, when Mr.. Powers struck
Harry because the baby was hurt in their
play the mothers anger famed out
"What, is she better than my boy 4? wish
that she bad never been born" And never,
in her fathers sight, would she bestow
caress upon his child; when he was out OF
the way, she made up for all.
AT fifteen months old the child fell i'll;
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
if 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
between.
II will never go there when he can
know said Susan to herself. And in
this frame of mind, filled with anguish for
her loss, with remorse for what she had
allowed herself to say and feel while the
child lived, and with anger toward her
husband, she went to church on the Sun
day after the funeral, more for the sake
of getting away alone than for the hope
that one word could help her there She
had never been in the same place before.
1t was Friday morning, and the Rev.
Mr.. Stanfield sat in his study, attempting
to write sermon of consolation. Two of
his parishioners had died that week, one
old, the other in the prime of life he
must say something of comfort, some
thing OF heaven, to the mourners. He
had the text written out: ''Ye believe in
God, believe also in me. In my Fathers
house are many mansions" But that was
as far as he could go; the words that he
wanted would not come. He walked out,
to try and work himself into the mood,
| Ivxyha nf fol i'm,
such sense of the worth of man as man,
such vision of his capacities, such Won
ders at his possibilities, there came upon
him such realization of the soul, apart
from conditions, that be felt it must be
written. What waste of time, with the
work which must be done yet on his
hands! But he put at the top of his paper,
"l e are OF more value than many spar
rows" and 'For we are also his Off
spring" Writing was no labor then, and
he thought of it, there was sermon. 81
must pick out an old one for Sunday" he
thought; but on Saturday night he deter
mined to preach that. ''It's the word of
the Lord to me for this hour, and l will
say it,"
Susan Powers heard that sermon and
it was the word of deliverance and peace
to her soul. She sat like one in dream,
till the service ended; then rose and went
out of the house, just casting one back
ward glance at the man who had spoken,
to see if he were not indeed an angel then
with Il fixed purpose in her heart, turned
toward her home. Il will try and keep
my sight" she said. Il will not become
blind again" For she was like one who
had just received his sight. How all her
life, to this hour, she herself had been the
centre around which the universe re-
volved. her rights, her comforts, had
been the important matters, and people
were good or bad according to their treat
ment Of her. And yet life had seemed
only poor and mean.
No word of upbraiding, or of warning
or threatening could have touched her as
this thought of the value of man had done.
But how can l let him know of this
new light that has come to me ?n she asked
herself. IF l were to begin talking
kindly. he would think there was some
purpose in it and despise me. If tell
him that I have been wrong he will not