The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1870-07-15

JuS5 UEAOIE DIGdhldSI, IuB OOOI-DGl
rang, Ann, who answered the sum
mons, was a. grander, hghter-heart-
ed young woman then her mistres:
who stood in an upper room bracing
herself to meet the coming presence
In moment Ann came up, say
ing, mysteriously: "She's down
stairs, mum, and she's had her
breakfast. My! but she's the quarest
looking old crayture, thought
"Show her up, Ann"
She entered-a quiet looking
mild old woman of seventy!
I had not expected this. Fancy
had conjured a dressy, fussy young
person, with a manner as quick and
shipping as her scissors, and a roll
Of fashion-plates in her handsome
body with an iron will, who knew
the exact size that a lady's waist
ought to be-lungs or no lungs.
But the quiet, sober old body
clad in dingy black-how could
ask her to make up my finery?
"Good morning! Is this Mrs.
Bond?' asked, halfhoping that ii
was not.
81 believe it is" she answered, with
a pleasant smile, taking off her shawl
and bonnet as she spoke, and ad-
Ijusting her spectacles carefully, SC
as not to tear her simple white cap.
"Shal l sit here, ma'am|
"Oh! yes, certainly" and, some
how before knew i, she old lady
was cutting out a lining, and I was
up stairs again (after having taken
a hasty breakfast and seated near
her, running up the breadths of a
skirt, everything just as easy and
natural as possible,
Yes, she t0a8 slow, but l think it
was because she took so much in
terest in her work; that she rather
| fingered over it. 1t was wonderful
to see how she would turn a refrac.
tory bit Of goods this way and that,
until az last, it would fit in exactly
where it was needed; wonderful to
see her stitch, stitch, in such a
steady resolute way, and all the time
with that placid expression on her
face, her wrinkled little mouth purs-
ed up, and her gray eyebrows arch
ing mild over her spectacles.
About eleven o'clock in the fore.
noon, without looking up from her
work, she said: Mrs. D., would
it be asking to much if l wanted a
cup Of tea at lunch-time? 1t keeps
me awake for the afternoon, and
can do better justice to the work.
Awake for the afternoon? Poor
old soul!
Certainly! not at anr I exclaim-
ed, in startled way. We always
have tea at luncheon; but, whether
or not, you shall have it, and well
come. Why not lie down a while,
though? Please do. Rest yourself
now, on that lounge
'Oh!no, no indeed? thank you?
and she laughed quiet, sober lit
tie laugh, with a tear in it. The
tea'u keep me up now, MAN, she
added, cheerfuly; if you'll please get
ready to try on, I'll be through in a
minute.
She staid with me for three days,
working slowly and steadily all the
time, kept awake by the tea, and
resolutely resisting my entreaties
that she should take an occasional
nap. One particularly puzzled me.
On several occasions, when, after a
brief absence, I entered the room, 1
saw her quietly slip something into
her little covered basket, which sat
on the floor beside her, and resume
her work as 1 approached. Other
wise, she seWed as steadily as though
she were moved by machinery.
But if Ann and Kitty awoke apol-
ogetic emotions within me, how
much more this patient, silver-hair-
ed old lady. could scarcely bear
to see her working for me, and it
was only the planning various tri-
fling benefits for her that l could
feel in any way reconciled to it. She
was old, poor soul and yet she so
firmly thrust away the infrmities of
age, as if saying constantly to her
self: That's right-back, keep
straight, eyes; keep strong, fingers;
keep nimble, for l have this dress to
make
All! if trouble were to come upon
her, 1 thought, real heart-rending
sorrow, she could not be like this.
For it so happened that I had one
great trial to bear, and 1 knew what
important allies were youth and
But 1 did not understand
her yet.
On the third day. hardly can
say how it came about-she told me
GU6 SGOTy Ol ueI liz, VI A"UuOA IL
seemed to slip from her as the work
through her fngers-and
what a life it was! Trial upon trial,
sorrow upon sorrow; prosperity at
first, then misfortune and poverty
then twelve years of married life,
and three OF four little graves; sick
ness; the prop of home smitten
down. a helpless invalid; then wild
owhood, with four children to sup
port and educate next, one of the
children a hopeless cripple-labor,
ceaseless labor, then sorrow and
trouble in a married daughters mis-
fortune. then her two daughters
widowed and in delicate health, and
with several young children, all up
on her hands, she their only ark and
refuge! H7r youngest, and only son,
she had bravely educated through it
all. He had finally joined the Union
army without word of opposition
from her. At that very moment he
might be lying wounded on the bat
tle-feld or his bones might be gath
orod in some namplpss CravA fOrI