American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1872-06-01

ooh Aunty," l said, cit is right to mix il
a little OF the beauty and poetry of life
with the common and bare and bleak"
''if you want poetry you'll find it il
the Psalms of David, but | guess you and
Susie both amt fur short of being
heathens. Crosses, indeed! that's a likely
story; that a woman of my age, thu
mother of eleven grown children, and
member of the Methody Church for goin
on forty year, would bcmean herself by
| having Il cross struck up in her yard. II
would look more like if Susia'd make
| some pap, and go and feed the calves out
in the lot fernent the barn. That's hel
work, and she ought to do it, too"
saw the tears stan ling in Susie's eyes
though she looked down, and slid the
wide hem of her apron back and forth
| through her fingers.
"Well," said, I'm sorry that 1 spoke
a word to hurt your feelings, Auntie, and
| wish now that had not called in at all
but | heard you were not very well, so
came in
ooh, I'm not a bit WE'LL" she whined
out, in Il low, changed voice. Il tried to
empty IA feather tick the other day, and
was very poorly before l got done. ]
guess l must have breathed some of the
felt so smothered, and there was such
a lump in my throat" and the old lady,
victim to the within of the moment, sank
back in her cushioned chair, and her jaw
fell, and no one would have known that
she was the woman of half an hour pre-
vious.
As started home, l gave Susie, the
poor captive, good, hearty kiss in the
d conway, and said, Il love you, poor
Susie, my friend; you must be brave and
of good cheer; your way will not always
h..i Inr a,,1 l.
you can, DEAR" and l left her with her
fearful face buried in her apron.
As | went up into the lane / stopped TO
admire the pretty things there, and l
looked back and saw Susie walking down
the path through the strong fennel, with
little pail full of feed for the two red
calves that had poked their heads through
between the bars. Poor, poor Susie!
tried to carry one of the messy rails
home with me, but it proved to be too
much for my strength. So laid it aside
for some more stalwart member of my
family. l was not afraid of any opposi-
ton from that quarter-not a man of them
but would be glad to humor me in any
within, if only for loves sweet sake.
The last call was on Becky Morrison.
She suffered from an incurable disease,
and with her aged parents depending
upon her for support, she could not die
as long as they needed her. The neigh
bors were very kind and assisted them,
and they wanted for no comfort or luXu-
ry. They loved, and feared, and trusted
God, and gave themselves up to no vain
regrets or repinings. They believed that
''He doeth all things we'll"
When | opened the great field gate, that
led the way through the maple grove, my
home on the green hill side was before me-
bright picture with its dark back ground
of oak lands and orchards. ooh, my
beautiful gem ~ ! said with enthusiasm,
as | paused and gathered in the whole
scene.
tea table, my family all about me, could
hardly eat for emotions of joy. Oh, it
was so good to have happy, cheerful,
loving and beloved home! The contrast
came up before me wildly.
Instead of a Gathering, noisy, dusty,
loom in my home, was piano. Beside
the CHEEKY fireplace, was a stand on which
lay grandpa's glasses on the well-read
bible, with books and magazines and
papers and on the walls pictures in hand
some frames. Unlike Katy Raymond's
poor hen-pecked husband, who was afraid
to step his cautious feet on his own floor,
my kingly Charlie, in slippers, would sit
and read aloud, sharing every good thing
with me and the children. My boys and
girls were studious little men and women,
who mi ght break every dish in the cup
board and not feel a blow from my loving
hand. l was their mother and compan-
ion-not a tyrant who dealt with them
coarsely and brutally. My daughters
were permitted to indulge in all innocent
amusements, that make youth So beautiful
to look back upon.
After tea | went into the Sitting-rOom,
and | had thought / had never seen it
look so homelike, cosy and inviting. |
thought of all the homes | had seen that
day-Katy's, on the bank of the creek;
Auntie Canfield's bleak, bare bedroom,
and how she scolded me, and how desc
late she made it for poor, dear Susie; of
the poor, invalid girl, and her old pa
rents depending upon her for their sup
portland l felt truly thankful that my
lines had fallen in pleasant places, and
that none of these burdens lay upon me
or mine. A sense of my own unworthi-
ness filled my heart with shame, and /
stole out and slipped up to Charlie, and
put my face down beside his, and whis-
pered: "Do you know, Charlie, that you
have Il very ungrateful, unkind wife, I'M
worthy of such a home, ard of such
husband? Do you know it, you poor,
abused fellow?" Charles warm lips
touched my check, and he made his voice
very soft and low and musical, as he an
swered: "No, don't know it, my little
queen, and no word of yours can make
me believeit. y Woods Household -NGgazine.