The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1871-01-17

she had nothing but work and care. He di
4 not realize the truth that the worn, shall
S by home told upon her, that she needle
Y some frightening to come to it as yearr
ing want Of life. And SO, as the year
+ had gone on, she grew dissatisfied a
: heart, hardly understanding what sh
, wished for, or what she did not wish th
5 intensely unlovely, prosy, dull life some
: what souring her spirit. Now and again
r when she gave back short or bite
/ retort, Robert wondered, she who used Il
be so sweet-tempered.
All through the long forenoon, Mrs
Thompson nursed her wrath. Rober
was selfish and unreasonable, and she die
not care who knew it. She acould not hav,
the sewing-club at the farm, come wha
might. The potatoes got boiled; the bi.
piece OF beef was simmering on the fire
Before twelve o'clock had well struck
she saw her husband and his two friends
coming through the orchard, with red and
hungry faces. Mr.. Thompson always
wanted his dinner boiling hot, and she
hastened to lay the cloth in the cool room
off the kitchen. Frank and Charley, her
two boys, came running in from school
each striving to claim her attention, She
felt tired, heated, and very cross.
=. Mhy lsn dinner ready uon,auuvu
Mr.. Thompson, not seeing it actually on
the table when he entered. 81 told you
we had no time to waste to-day" he ad-
ded, angrily, in his hurry and hunger.
"lf L hadn't anything to do all the FORE
noon but to get dinner, I'd have it ready
to time, know"
A bitter retort was springing to her
lips. But ere it could be spoken, Charley
clamorously interposed, pushing his new
copybook before her eyes.
"Look, mother | am going into sen.
tences now, like Frank. It's my first
copy. The master wrote it, and he said
was to get it by heart, too, and always
remember it. DO read it mother"
Mrs. Thompson, her arms full of the
cracked old mulberry plates, paused a
moment to let her eyes fall on the new
copy "a soft answer turneth away
wrath was what she read. II was not
that the proverb was new-she had read
1t scores Of times-but there was some.
thing in its appropriateness to the present
moment, that fell like cool, sweet wind
OH her heated pulses.
81 will have it ready in moment
Robert she said, quietly.
MIR. Robert Thompson looked up. Evil
ly he had not expected so pleasant re-
ply. If the truth must be told, he had
thought good bit that morning of his
wfe'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 in to dinner.
"lt 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 any 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 n, ,.,,,, ,,.,, ,,,, ,,,.,.,, .,.,,, -,
the kitchen. It's like OIL" said Mr..
Thompson.
81 took it out of the cellar since you
came in; | will 60 down and get some
more if you think had BETTER" was the
reply, given pleasantly.
Never mind. Well, | declare do
you call this meat boiled ?" went on Mr..
Thompson, as he began to, carve. ats
harder than rock. If meat has to be
cooked pretty fresh this weather, it needn't
be like this"
81 tried to have it nice, Robert" she
said, striving to choke down rising sob
as well as an angry word.
MIR. Thompson, aroused by quiver in
the tone, looked at his wife. His friends
looked at one another. She sat down at
length, but did not eat. Mr. Thompson
finished his dinner in silence.
lie was watching his wfe's face There
was something in it he did not understand
IA kind of patient, hopeless look, as if
she no longer cared to struggle onward.
The old mulberry-ware did look dingy on
the snowy white tablecloth; almost too
bad for these chums of his to sit down to.
He wondered he had never thought so
before. Robert Thompson grew thought
ful.
lie passed into the kitchen when they
were going out again--how hot and stiff
ing it felt with that big ire-as bad as
the south meadow. His wife had been in
it cooking that must have made her face
scarlet. Indoors was not so comfortable
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 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
brow 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.
81 never pitied a woman so much in my
life" quoth one Of them. "She works
like slave and does not get even "ihank
ye' for it from Thompson. He's n 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
senstive-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