Connecticut western news., 1873-02-07
VOL. II.


 I saw at once the difficulty of smooth ing away the domestic mountain, in the utter inconsistencies of the actors. John Gordon was liberal, affording his wife every pleasure well-flled purse could give; he was gentle and cour- teous, and it was evident he was mod el husband.
 May was sef-sacrifcing and devoted, not telling even her own heart that she had any ground for unhappiness, yet surely pining for the open, cordial love and praise of her maiden life. Her voice, sweet as flute, never rang out now in musical nipples of laughter, her footstep was soft and quiet, never dane ing. as of old, from merriment; her piano stood unopened, her song was never heard.
 John was satisfied with an uncom- plaining machine to keep his house, and he had it.
 So I told my heart, as it ached over all this misery that seemed so hopeless. But I judged him wrongly, as found later.
 It was fearfully hot night in August when John Gordon, rapping at my door, called:
 "Win you come to May? She is ill, and am going for the doctor.''
 I was quickly dressed and in the room.
 Before morning a tiny girl was sleep ing in the nursery cradle, but the moth CT lay in a dangerous stupor. For three long weeks we watched the frail life, hanging on thread, sinking little by little, With no point of hope for the anxious hearts that loved her. The most dangerous symptom, the doctor assured us, was the patients own apathy.
 eff you can rouse her," the doctor said to nae, "to try to live, she may yet recover, But few days more of this dull apathy will surely kill her."
 Then I resolved to make one great effort. My heart had reproached me more than once for former hard thoughts when noted John Gordon's pale, hag- gard face, heard him pacing sleeplessly, night after night, in the room adjoining the one where the nurse and myself watched the frail babe and apparently dying mother. I felt sorry too for the domestic discomfort of house left so entirely to servants, forI could only give general directions, with May needing constant care I would not depend upon the hired nurse to give. With my resolution taken I went after that interview with tie doctor, straight to John Gordon's library. He was sitting in weary, istless atti- tude, but rose to place chair for me.
 "May is better ?'' he asked, with touching eagerness, his face falling again as I shook my head.
 "John," I said, plunging at once into my errand, twill you let me speak few plain words to you? have loved May since she was tiny baby, and I cannot see her die without an effort to save her. believe you love her ?'
 "I would give my life to see her we'll again." he said passionately.
 " And yet" I said sadly, if harshly, "'tis your want of appreciation that is killing her."
 "I do not understand you," he said, and he was perfectly sincere when he spoke.
 Then very gently I pointed out to him how faithfully May had filled all wifely duties.
 "But women like these things. My mother always kept the house and table
 " Women like them," I replied :; true, loving women like them just in proportion as they give pleasure to those they love-
 "But surely they always give pleas ure. Do you imagine I do not known how lovely my wife is, how patient and careful? A mother to my boy, who will make him noble, true man. Sure ly, Miss Hattie, I know my wife is al- most perfect"
 "dTe1l heryou know it." I said. ''Let her see it in your eyes, feel it in your kiss. When she makes 8 pie, assure her it was the sweetest pie you ever ate. Praise her table, her boys dress, her lovely hanging baskets. She is starv- ing, dying for loving praise. Go to her, take her in your arms, and tell her how dreary life will be to you if she is lost. Bid her live for your sake, and she will not die."
 "But the excitement, the agitation ?! he said. "I have scarcely dared to speak to her."
 "And she is dying for want of those very loving words and kisses"
 "Come with me-" he pleaded, "1 am fearful even now you may be wrong. I marched the nurse into the nex room with the baby, and then took Johr to Mays side. With 8 tenderness more touching from his natural reserve, ht bent over the pale face, and spoke on' word:
 Darling"
 She looked into his face and met eye f so full of deep true love, that involun ! tarily she lifted her weak hands to dra7 , her husband nearer. , "Darling," he repeated, and his lip F qulyered, "how pale you are, and S cannot be you would die and leave me F The whole world looks desolate to m while you lie here. When will yo
 come to me with baby May in you arms, as you did with Harvey, to as me if I am not proud to be papa? ?''
 "Do you remember ?" she whisper I ed.
 - Remember! Why, May, there is n 0 word or look of yours cannot remen d Der. Sweet wife, where we love we ca never forget"
 e I stole away. Heart meeting heal
 was too sacred for any third party t o witness. An hour later I went in softly = May was lying in her husbands arms j. looking into his face with loving eye: t Upon her cheek was faint flush, an
 the smile that greeted my entrance WE - like the smile of four years ago. d "Aunt Mattie," she said, in fair s voice, that had yet the echo of a laug t in it, "do you believe John has bee a telling me my pies are so sweet he b. e ieves put kisses into them, and he e quite sure I have a magic receipt fe j. coffee, for he has not had decent GU
 since I was sick p and then the To @ silvery laugh rang out, as she nestle IT down in Johns arms. t. "In order that he may have GU d soen," I said, "you had better get we }. speedily, and as a preliminary step, > would advise you to go to sleep-iu d where you are" I added, as John locke tt at me for instruction. O But my teaching was needed no nor