Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1872-12-03

not last, however, forever. He be-
came moi nd more occupied in his busi-
ness, and ut length had house and l
baby to l3ok after. Then, for the first
time, our mutual forbearanee was put to
the test. Hitherto We had been devoted
to each other; now the real cares of life
pressed upon us so as often really to alb
sorb our energies. | was the first TO feel
/ the change. 1t seemed to me as if some
thing very unpleasant was overshadowing
us Sometimes | got sentimental, aud
thought he did not love me as he once did.
As | look back now, am convinced
lhat this was my first wrong step. ln-
dulgence in these moods weakened my
resolution. 1t was an injustice to him, OF
which ought not TO have been guilty. |,
left me too, with q wounded feeling, as il
had been wronged-which began to
affect my spirits.
Once, | had Tor some time carried
about this sore spot in my heart. [ kept
tao matter all to myself, for was in
part ashamed and in part too proud to
speak Of it, Here was another wrong
step. There is no security Of happiness
in married life but in the most perfect
confidence.
There came season of damp, chilly
weather. One morning, got up feeling
rather irritable. | had taken cold, my
head ached and my baby had been worri-
some during the night. La my kitchen |
mad a Cross Ignorant servant girl, and on
this particular morning she had done her
very worst for breakfast. The beef steak
was burned TO n cinder; the eggs were
ike bullets; the bread was half baked,
and the coffee, which was our main stay,
Was .pexecrable. Ny husband was very
tAica, with al this until he came to the
coffee, and this upset him. He put his
cup down and said in half yextd tone,
al do wish We ever could have any good
coAec. Annette, why cannot You have it
made a- nv mother does ?'
This was the drop too much for me and
| / bolcl over. You never think any
thing on cur table is fit TO be eaten,' said
land | almost started at the sound oil
ny own yoiec-"you had better live at
home J you are not satisfied, or else pro-
vide ma with docen; servants. | cannot
do yey,hiug-takc care of my baby all
night and got breakfast too"
Il dill not know before that was so
very unreasonable said he in q tone OF
4 inju,ol feeling.
he sat a few minutes, then rose, left
hi, untastcd breakfast, put On his hat and
Sca, Off When | heard the door shut
behind him, all my temper left me l
wen; into my room, locked myself in, and
sd, down aud cried like child. This
gas the FIRST cross word | had ever spo ken
10 my husband. [; seemed to me % ii
5mc sudden calamity had befdlen US.
worked myself up to such a state OF
feeling, that | walked about the room
wringiug my hands.
"Oh, it is ell over with W., thought /;
we shall never be happy together again
IN the world
This made me miserable. | felt as
though black pail had fallen around me,
and in the future there was only blank
darkncss. In my misery | sought 10
comfort myself by blaming him. He
need not have spoken to me so, at any
rate, said | out loud, "ho might have
seen now felt; [, was too ulAch Tor any
one TO bear. Itreally was not one bit
kind in him. 1t is plain enough that he
does hot care for my comfort as he once
did. Then 10 be always telling me what
nice things his mother cooks when he
knows | am trying to 10 my very best to
learn to please him. It is really TOO bad" ."
Don't look 50 dreaiiuly sober, Kate.
Ny baby cried just here, and I had to
run before was through with M cata-
loguc Of grievances, yet | had gone far
enough to get on the wrong track again.
| began to calm myself with the reaec-
ton, that If there had been a great wrong
done, | was not the only one to blame for
it, was dreaAtully sorry that had
spoken to him, but l thought he ought to
be sorry too. Before my baby had
finished crying, came to the conclusion
that would not exhibit signs Of penitence
until | saw some in him.
So I bathed my face that no traces of
tears might remain, dressed myself with
extra care, and went down to old Bridget
to give some very particular directions
about the diuner I did this with
martyr-like spirit. l meant to try my
best to make him sorry for his injustice.
| resolved to reproach him with first
rate dinner, good as his mother could
cook. To whet the edge Of my delicate
reprooI | made with my own hands
most excellent cup of coffee
One O'Clock came at last, though l
thought it never would; the door opened
and | heard his quick step in the hall.
OF all things in the world he was whist
ling
He came to the table with bright
face, from which every trace of the morn
ing's cloud had disappeared, and he sat
down and looked round with a pleased
expression.
"Why, Annette" said he, "what nice
dinner"
81 am glad you are pleased" said I, in
subdued tone.
Capital" said he, "the best roast we
have had this season"
He was so much taken up with my
delicate roproofs as not to notice that l
was out of spirits. | was half pleased
and half provoked, but l kept rather still,
l.