Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1873-01-02
The WIDOW WARNINGS CHRIST.
MAS SURPRISE.


THH WIDOW WARNINGS CHRIST.
MAS SURPRISE.
BY HOWARD GLYNDoN.
eff I only just did know what to do
about him?" Following this remark
came deep, long-drawn sigh. 1t was a
leisurely sigh, too; yet the woman who
pave it was so used to signing that she
was hardly conscious of having drawn
her breath more heavily than usual.
Beside her, crouched on bit of old rag
carpet spread upon the hearth, with his
head bent so near to the blaze of the
scanty fire of pine knots that you would
have thought his flushed cheeks in dan
ger of scorching, was boy about twelve
years old. Large and lusty he was for
his age, with thick thatch of bright vel
low hair covering his shapely head and
falling down over forehead of much
promise, just now puckered into the most
determined of boyish scowls as he grap-
pied in manful way with the manifold
intricacies of the BIS and KS set as copy
at the top of his slate-evidently not by
masters hand. 1t was when the Widow
Warnings eyes rested for moment on this
boy thus occupied-as, after long spell
of making lattice work across scandal
Gus hole in the toe of gray woolen sock,
she lifted her head to ease the pain in the
back of her neck, coused by long bend
ing over her work-that she gave audi
BILE vent to the thought that was constant
ly uppermost in her mind and followed
it by her habitual sigh, "If I only just
did know what to do with him!" The ball
of gray yarn rolled out of her lap, while
she sat with briefly idle hands, watching
him with tender trouble on her worn
face. In an instant his awkward but cou-
rageous grip of the long, well-sharpened
slate pencil, which he held as if he were
afraid of it would slip away, relaxed, and
he was scrambling for the ball which,
presently. with bright smile, but with
no word, he laid upon his mothers knee.
The trouble passed from her face while
she looked into his, but the tenderness
only deepened until you could not have
said but that it was motherly pride. But
though she patted his head as he again
crouched down beside her, still no word
passed between them. And for one whole,
long winter evening they sat thus by the
glimmering fire of pine -knots-the moth
er with her sewing and the boy with his
slate and well-worn book, and neither
talked to the other.
These two were sitting in poor little
room in poor little house-the barest
shell of a cabin indeed, planted so close
to the waters edge that the wonder was
that some incoming tide did not wash it
away into the sea. Around it, stretch
ing away on every side, was the sandy
soil of the bleak coast, swept annually by
such terrible winds that the few shrubs
about it only grew knee high, and the
house itself was probably only saved by
its very lowliness. You had to stoop,
though you might not be tall, to enter the
one outer door leading into the bare room
which served as kitchen, sitting room,
and by night as bedroom for the boy
he sleeping in an improvised bed on
settle. A still lower door led into cold
little den in which was hardly sleeping
room for the mother. On chair was
large pile of neatly ironed clothing,
which evidently, from It's fineness Of tex
ture and elaborateness of adorning, did
not belong to the two whose surround
ings l have sketched; and there were so
many fat-irons set away upon an upper
shelf, and so many tubs turned bottom
upward in the little shed near the house,
that it required no extraordinary acute
ness, even In an entire stranger, to say
beforehand what the Widow Warnings vo-
cation was. She looked as old as fifty,
though in reality she was only about
forty; for hard work necessarily kept up
ages women even more than settled grief.
Her face was worn and wrinkled, her
hair thin and turning gray, her fingers lit
orally worked to the bone; but her eyes
were large, bright brown, and beautiful
with quick sensibility, an untamable
spirit, which made you forget her fur
rowed forehead, her dim hair, her mea-
gerness. Looking only into her eyes she
on1 fou
her only grace, and she had transmitted
them to her boy. Watching HIM as he
from time to time looked up into his
mothers face, you would have ceased to
think it strange that he never spoke to
her nor she to him. His eyes spoke for
him, and he seemed to read his mothers
every thought in hers. Thus they sat
while the wind without walled dolefully
around the corners of the house, and ever
anon the dull, steady swash of washing
waves was borne upon 1.-THE mother in
tent upon her mending and the boy upon
his slate, until the uncompromising clock
overhead shrilled out nine strokes, and
then the widow rose and gently touched
the chIld, who had not looked up.
Half mile furth er inland, in the heart
Of town which had struggled away
from the water, and in a very different
night. She was alone, for the friends
whom she was visiting had gone out to
spend the evening, and she had pleaded
headache as an excuse for not accompany
ing them. If she had pleaded heart-ache
she would have been nearer the truth.
A week, previous she had left all the
gayeties of large city to come to this
quiet little place on the pretext of needing
rest and quiet. What she really wanted
was to be alone with a sorrow which she
wss too proud to confde to any one.
First love-betrothal-dis -disenchantmen
a broken engagement In how few
words the history of heart-trouble that
makes us hate the days and dread the
nights can be told! Tonight, for the
hIst time during her visit, she found her
self quite alone. She loitered awhile at
the piano, then tried to amuse herself at
tne stereoscope, and these resources fail
ing she tried to read, but on turning the
first page discovered that not a word of
any sentence which her eyes during the
last fifteen minutes had mechanically
taken in, remained in her mind. She
closed the book sharply, and, putting it
impatiently aside, began to walk the
floor. Her thoughts were bitter, for thew
were of her disappointed hopes, her mis-
placed affections. "Shall I ever believe
lH duy ouc again Cual ever trust anY
one again ?" So ran her thoughts, and
then with sudden revulsion of feeling
"Oh, it is bitter to be all alone and am
not used to it. How long shall be able
to bear it, wonder? And this is Christ
mas Eve p The last recollection was
too much for her. She could not calmly
"look on that picture and then on this. u
She threw herself into a chair, and, rest
ing her head upon the table near where il