Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1873-08-22

A MoTHTR-IN-LAw.-A woman died the
other day, whose story, as it seems to Us
might serve As text for one of our next
Saturday sermons; these cossippy, social
sermons being intended to deal. not with the
mighty doctrines Of the law, such as are
enunciated in the sanctuary between the So
Tenn chant ami pealing organ, but with
everyday matter Jones's habits at the club
or shop. or Mrs Jones's manners and Gus
toms in the kitchen or parlor, and the CHI
valrv. Justice. and truth. which come or do
not come into such matters. This woman
lived an altogether commonplace life. Just a.
mne-tenthS of Us do made no noise in the
world. came into it unn0ticcd, and went out
Of it unapplauded. Nine-tenths of us-no,
all Of us-think that viii not be said Of Us
when we are gone. We may know that we
have neither wit nor grace nor beauty, but
some gentle s1ul will be grieved at our de-
parting. There viii be a vacant space in the
household which viii, we think. never be
filled. If We had nothing else to give, We
have given love, beaPed up and overlooking.
and that always shall have it, reward. Al
ways? Let u see.
Tie woman who lay dead in her coffin last
week WAS as homely there as she had been
in life. \ stout, middle-aged person. with
thin gray hair, knotted in a wiSp behind. and
lair Of iron-bound spectacles over her
anxious. sal ewes. Even as a Young woman
she had been bat one Of the ordinary crowd
of bright tresh-eolored girls. who sink their
own individuality and whatever little special
talent they have in the service Of husband
and children. and after few years are or
binary still. the fresh color and brightness all
zone. The little which this young girl had
wa, keen love Of music and a sweet voice.
for which her only use was to put her babes
to sleep. Bat through all herdaily drudcery.
in kitchen and dairy, this love Of music
seemed to her something. which. if. she had
time to study and understand. 1t might raise
her to higher levels Even as twas, thoughts
and emotions in life took hold Of her through
it. which did not belong to kitchen and dali
~. She had glimTSes OF ''sweet fields be
v1nd the swelling flood which no sermon
ever gave her.
She was a hard working wife and mother,
her husband a small practitioner in coun-
tn town. By the time her children We're
grown her hands were hard and bony, her
eyesight was nearly gone, her health broken
whatever strength or power God had given
her she had spent lavi>hly in a few Years for
them The husband died. and at the same
time came an increase Of income enough to
make the family easy and even afluent.
Both son and daughter were married Now,
surely came her holiday when she could sit
down a little while 10 feel the rest and sun
shine before going hence, when those for
whom Sc was worn out would have a chance
to nurse the tired body and cheer the long
anxious soul. How was it? Her daughter,
Of whom the fond. silly woman had made an
idol. was a good, pious woman, and not an
unrrateful child. But she had other charms.
her husband begrudged every moment Or low
ing look she bestowed TO the woman who
had given her life, and, to say the least. had.
unpaid, given her for a lifetime the service
of hireling. He forgot this debt lie had
the common slang about mothers-in-law at
his tongues end She was a weight. and in
cubas. he swore With the sons wife il
was worse: women have but little PATIENCE
with women. She had enough to wear and
enough to eat, but that was ali. Every out
ward politeneSs and kindness were shown
her. but there was not a look nor word
which did not teach her that She was old
fashioned-in the way. Her day was over.
When the first granG-child came, how proud
and elated she was how her blood warmed
again, and her poor hands trembled a. she
held them out. If She could hold the little
thing TO her withered breast it seemed to
her She could be young again, and fancy it
was her own firSt-bom lying there. Bur her
daughter-her firSt-horn-would not trust
the babe To her old-iashione1 ways 1t was
to be brought up scientifically. She laughed
at the wooden socks and queer little petit
coats She had been making for it for months.
So in everything. Music in the family was
a passion they studied it a. artists. When
the poor old woman Joined her cracked voice
in the choruseS she saw covert smile on
the face of every grandchild. 1t never oc-
CURED to them that concerts or operas could
give the dull soul a rare pleasure yet untast-
Ell in her life.
That l. all the story. she Is dead now
some Of Us who have laid our hands on 4
dead face and known what a happy face we
might have made it when living. if we had
but chosen, will know how to draw the man
lng from her stOry.-TrbBRc.