The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1871-09-28

OF THE EARTH EARTHLY.
BY MARY SORES.

b1 MANI
From Woods Household Magazine.
A December day. The very middle
and chill OF northern winter, with it's
frosty rime cllnglng to tree and shrub.
The ponds by the wayside, the skating
grounds Of timid boys and girls afraid Of
the wider field Of deep water ice at the
1nlll-pond. A bare December landscape,
desolate and chill. The sun hid in a
leaden sky and the frozen earth Nesting
under the white. covering, nature, was lazily
dropping down upon II.
A ride II an open wagon over frozen
road, with the thermometer pointing to-
ward zero, is not the most desirable sit
ration In the world. So Uncle Giles
thought as his old mare Betty, logged
slowly along over the hard ruts Of the
road leading from the village, home
ward.
Uncle Giles was Of that respectable
class whose yeas are yeas, and negatives
negatlonS. Betty, from a colt reared In
orthodox quaker steadiness, plodded
stOlcaiy on, over elevations and dcpres-
sions, turning neither to right nor left in
quakerllke methodical precision, shaking
and lollng her master, who sat peacea-
bly, under shelter of his great coat and
gray broad brIm apparently unmindful
of joltiGg wagon. the skating children
and hoar-frosted landscape; save for an
occasional tucking of the buffalo robe
around his solemn gray knees and
twiteh OF his coat collar to his rosy chin.
But Uncle Giles was never the man to
make the weather stumbling for his
serenity to trip over. Peacefully he had
seen fifty summers blossom and fifty win
tiers drift oyer and whiten this same
landscape; and peacefully logged on,
past careless, happy children, unmind-
tul OF their vain and foolish games.
His own children Providence had been
pleased to allow him to rear in God-like
manners; his girls were models of maid-
emily propriety and his one boy. as fine
and well favored youth as ever father
need call son.
Uncle Giles had had peaceful life
One might lmmagine though, from the
Fes0luie stoiciSm with which he sat over
the joltlngs of the hard, springless wag-
on, how bravely he would stand in the
day of sorrows, bravely resisted would
be the blows of adversely and trouble.
God had never greatly tried him; there
were depths and heights to which his
feet were as unfamiliar as an infants
If we have always lived within the shaded
peaceful valley. do we know if we can
stand the mountains sudden hurting
storn2
Jogging on homeward, with his mark
citing under the buggy seat, uncle Giles
gave occasional Chances ahead to satisfy
himself the road was clear and ther,
trusting to Betty quaker rearing to car
~ him safely home, closed his eyes in
peaceful meditation.
Looking up once, some sight caused
knitting OF his brows and then knotted
them into heavy trown, while his face
grew pale.
1t cannot be-" speaking half aloud
and stopping Betty SO suddenly, as to
startle away all visions she had been in
dulging in with jerked up ears, of the
comfortable crib of corn awaiting her In
the stable at home.
w hat yer staring at, Broad-brim ?
shouted an impudent urchin, from a
coastIng exercise down small embark
ment just back from the road.
Unheedlng the saucy remark, uncle
Giles Strengthened himself up In his
wagon and looked ahead where the road
was growing dim in the uncertain twi-
light shadows. There was something in
his face Just then that had never been
there before; the sight that caused it
was as new.
God help me. but it resembles the
boy S make - he muttered, standing mo-
tonless, staring fxedly ahead to where a
hgure hardly dlscernible, in the waning
light, walked stumbl;ngly on, with the
uncertain, unmistakabie reel Of a man
that had been drinking.
The eyes of wounded fear and love are
Keen, and the old man, while still crying,
1t cannot, cannot be - felt such a sick
uh ha I
scarcely breathe. Betty was frightened
by a blow and loud ''go IN - Such a
thing had never occurred in her memory
since her risky, coltiSh days. What ter
rlble thing had happened and Betty
plunged into headlong gallop toward
the reeiing figure that fell in stupid help
lcssness just as they reached its side.
The lsraeilteS of old-in their Journey
ing, once thought to quaff freely of cool,
sweet water. But the waters at Marah
were bitter. Giles CuGhman had reached
the Marah of his lie.
Can sou picture TO yourself the little
Hood of agony and shame that swept
over that old man when he stopped by
the poor wretch's side and proved his
worst suspicion realized.
With giief more bitter within his
soul than if he had stood by his boy 5
open grave, this stern cid quaker looked
Into the frozen ditch, wherein, in drunk
en- stupifcation, lay his once hope and
Joy. Bitter indeed would have
been for the dead bitter, all more Bit
Ter was the. grief he felt for the living
who had saamed his honest pride thus
terribly. speeehless, he stood. only a
faint moan now and chen came from his
over burthened heart. His head was
bowed within his hands, and so. for a
time, he did not move.
Did he pray? God knows.
At length with a wearied look up and
down the road he made as if to re-enter
the wagon. No, no, he could not leave
him there, a kind fatherly yearning aud
sympathetic sorrow L know not what
else to call III, over this, his, surely it
must be, the first ofense. came oyer