Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1873-07-17
HOW THE VOW WAS KEPT.

It was Saturday night. I do not know
that every woman devotes this remnant
of the week to mending, but Mary
Matthews always did Crowd her work
each day as she might, there were never
any moments left in which she could sit
down to that basket of holy things and
devote herself to the contents, save on
Saturday night, and then because the
work had to be done, it aOas done,
though sometimes the poor little woman
was so tired she scarcely knew how the
task was accomplished. Its completion,
however, she would fully realize, and if
John Matthews, her husband, were sit
ting before her, she would look up
brightly into mis- face, no matter how
full of WEAKNESS was her soul. When
the basket had been more crowded than
usual, and the weekly work consequent
ly greater, this little woman was wont
to creep over to the silent man, as the
last amendment was laid on the table,
and rest her dizzy head on his great
shoulder, smoothing his hard, coarse
hands, and caressing his shaggy beard
lovingly oftentimes, on such occasions,
she would glance furtively toward his
countenance for a-wen-if the truth
must be told think it was the smile
of loving heart that Mary Matthews
eager eyes strove to discern. You term
this last act foolish, perhaps for you
think that such a sentiment should long
ago have been outgrown; you declare
that woman of her burdens and
responsibilities should be above any
such g exhibition of weakness" by the
very dignity they confer upon her. 1
cannot call such an action foolish, or
even weak, though I can and do won
der that such tenderness as Mary
Matthews manifested toward her hus-
band had not, in the years of the latter's
Indifference, become calloused, harden
ed, beyond the power of loving smiles
to soften. Still more do I wonder that,
as she realized the barrenness of the
soul upon which she showered her
caresses, she could continue to expect, or
even family hope for, any sympathetic
return from a quarter in which there
was such dearth of anything like it.
All, theslove of woman in its greatness,
its fidelity, in the much which it can alb
sorb, in the little upon which it some
times thrives, is indeed wonderful 1t
is to be cherished, to be admired, to be
reverenced Don't ever call it foolish,
or term it weak.
John Matthews was not an unkind
man. At least he did not intend to be,
if he ever had any intentions at all. He
loved CD his wife, his family, in his way,
but his heart was no more capable OF
minis.ering unto their spiritual needs
than his hands of providing for lhei1
temporal wants-apparently they were
of the same material, both failing in
the functions for which they were de.
signed He was ambitionless to man.
age to live, somehow or other" was
the extent of his aims, so far as the get.
ting of money was concerned It is
needless to say, therefore, that very
to his share-ay very little indeed
but he never seemed troubled Oh
anxious. And as one after another
" little responsibility" was added to his
family flock, he put forth no extra exer
ton, and felt no added care, apparent
ly; he lived up to his motto, and man
aged to exist. He managed, did I say
All, it was his a0ife that did that. I
was her slight frame that bore the
double. weight, when the half was suf
iicient to- crush any ordinary woman
1t was she who contriyed, she who mad
everything go twice as far as it wa
originally destined it was Mary
Matthews, who planned and planned
until her brain grew giddy with tn
whirl of thought, while John wakes
leisurely down the street to his work
he made crochet-needles-or sat by tn
stove IN the evening, reading or sleep
ing, as he felt inclined. He was pa