Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1872-02-22
Misesllansons. g
The Reverend Sampson's Christmas Gift.

Ane heVeteoo oAmpson SCnrlatmAS Gift.
The Rev. Sampson Beatty strobe
about his study one cold morning in
December, and looked ,hreateningly
on his little wife. One would have
thought. from his manner, that she had
committed some grievous sin, for sh =.
clasped her hands together with ges-
ture of entreaty, and followed him
about pleadingly with hr eyes.
There had never been missionary
FOR Woman's Rights up among those
bleak hills. AMI the little woman's cdu-
cation III this way had been sadly neg
lected. She never ventured upon ex-
postalaiion with her husband, and
when he was vexed, not only gave him
the first bu, the last word.
Fortunately ior Mrs. Beatty, her
husband was as gentle in spirit as he
was pure in soul. and would have
sooner haye cut of his right hand than
added one care 10 the many that bese,
her, so sorely against his will.
1t is q bitter humiliation he said at
length, the hot color flaming into his
cheek. i never thought 1 should de-
scend quite SO low as this, Lucv-to
have people going about with q sub
scription paper in my behalf. as if
we're a very paper! and in the full
vigor Of manhood, with health and
strength and head to work. God
knows l do work early and late; l am
no laggard in the vineyard. 10 no, the
laborer worthy Of his hire3'
But Sampson said his little wife,
you know it is quite customary about
Christmas time and they mean it for
the best am sure they do. But il
YOU feel so badly about it, she added,
noting the frown deepening on his
brow, i need only speak TO Mrs. Bev-
erIy, and ii can be stopped; only
the low voice faltered. The minister
looked down upon his wife, and smooth.
ed her hair tenderly-'Only it would
be terrible disappointment to you,
dear is it not sos No wonder your
pride is crushed and your spirit brok.
en-. my poor child. Don't think for q
moment l forget my little helpmate
bearing the brunt of the battle and
wearing q cheerful face to hide wofu
heart. know all the patches in the
wee jackets, dear, and the skillful darn
ing in the carpets, and heard the SAD
lament of the little ones over theil
lack of sugar this morning. Once fol
all, Lucy. don't think I'm ungrateful ol
indifferent enough to be ignorant o
even the details Of our poverty. l know
their full extent. And now leave me
to myself, little woman. Let them dc
As they will. II it will serve " make
you happier, will try to be ooatent.
Mrs. Beatty went quietly from tns
study and left her husband 70 his rue
ful ruminations. He bent himself oveI
his unfinished sermon with > heavy
sigh, and felt in his heart that his lif,
had been q failure. When he LOOKED
back upon his lost youth he wept in
very bitterness over the hopeful. vain
glorious dreams that had vanished one
by one, and left him upon this wintry
morning almost desolate. He had il
that youthful onset pictured to himsel
q life of chivalrOus strife and glorioul
victory, and had entered upon his min
istry with tue burning zeal and earnes
self-sacrifice Of SAvonarola. But b,
felt himself, as the years rolled on, :
veritable Don Quixote, struggling will
windmills. Gigantic and powerful
Windmiils surely, for they represented