The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1873-12-20

beds, then washed the dishes, and
went down cellar and skinned the
milk There was cream enough for
churning, and the churn was scalded,
and then left a pail of cold water
standing in it. so as to be fresh and
ready. By this time baby woke and
e.ied and the tired little mother was
compelled to sit down and take the
little one in her sheltering arms.
In half an hour or so he was ready
to sit down on the floor on quilt, and
she left him long enough to carry three
or four pals OF SKINNED milk to the
pigs-two pals full at time, and she
went on a run. She always fed the
pigs: when she asked her husband
once to carry the milk to the pen, on
his way out to his work, he said, that
belonged to woman's work; and
man whose name is out for commits
sioncr should not be asked to slop the
pigs-that's little too steep"
1t was no trifing job to feed those
pigs: the pen had been made out of
some house logs, and the opening
through which the pals had to be
lifted before they could be empticd,
was so high up that it just came even
with her neck, and was only WIDE
enough to admit the pail with the bail
laying down. Twice, when she had
dressed up clean, had the unsteadily
poised pail tipped back and poured
the contents upon her from her neck
even to her little feet, drenched as by
a water spout.
Withal the mother had been quite
patient, and almost every day could
her voice be heard even down to. the
little field and the school house, sing
ing, "a charge to keep | haye;" or
God moves in mysterious way.
But before another year change
| came. The strong, hard man, her
husband, was stricken down with ty-
| phoid fever, and for long weary weeks
he lay balancing between life and
death. His recovery was very slow,
and his confinement irksome; no prls-
on walls could be gloomier than were
the home walls that held him a pris-
oner. Day after day the ceaseless pat
ter of his wife's patient little feet fell
| upon his ear; he could hear them up
stairs and down, now here, now there,
her voice always kind and tender, her
hand ever ready to minister to her
dear ones, her words full of consola-
ton, and love, and cheer.
John Jones was not wholly unlm-
pressible; slowly the scales fell from
his eyes, the light came, and he was
as one born into higher and better
life. He drew his bony hand across
his eyes, often the sobs made him
catch his breath suspiciously, and he
marveled much that he had walked
beside this little woman for years and
not known that he was mated with an
angel unawares. His voice grew soft
er, tenderer. his great talony hands
touched her forehead and her hair
lovingly as would woman 's-touched
her as though he was afraid she would
fade away into white mist.
Weeks afterward, when he was able
to ride out, the old whimsical buggy,
that had done good service in the days
of his church going parents, was made
comfortable by a soft blanket and an
arm full of oat straw.
John didn't tell where he was going
but looked wise, and his mouth had a
, perky look about the corners that
seemed to say: Just let me alone;
know what Tn about"
1t was evening when he came home
He was still as wise as when he went
: away. His cup of hot tea was wait
ing. and his toast and the tender little
pullet fried nice aud brown. Ht
e seemed really happy-jolly. He trot
t ted the baby on his foot that night
!. and called wife Jennie, as in the day.
p when he won her, and let Johnny pla!
!. horse with his boots, and there wa
t such q contented, rich-man expires
t sion on his face that his wife coult
D not help wondering what made such
change in him.
/. The next morning the crazy old ri
q was called out again, and the sof
c blanket spread in it, and John Jone
g took the lines in his emaciated hands
e and drove off in the direction he dit
d the day before.
o When he returned he was accom-
}, panied by a broad-shouldered ant
y good looking German girl whom h
introduced to his over worked wife a
it Our girl.
: She looked with amazement upo
~ Jul gin. NuCu SNcICu a. u cAA.
n He soon explained things to he
& satisfaction. The upshCt Of the mat
e ter is, Jane, that I've 'bused you lon
t enough; the Lord helpin' me, l.
5, never see you make drudge of your
e self agin. It's burnin' shame for
e great lout like me to see frail littl
IS body like you be man, and bo.
I and dog, and wife, and mothe
IF and Inc savin' and boarding u
is money and means to leave for til
I Lord only knows who. | beg you
e, pardon, Jane, and now you'll tell tn
,r girl, Barbery Groetz, how you wal
IN things done, and let her take you
u place and work in your stead, and yo
~ will live hereafter like human wi
" ort to-
u By the time his speech was mad
le the poor, weak fellow was blubberiI
Or like whale.
~ Poor little surprised wife! 81
~ flew to his neck and laid her haid 9
id his bosom and cried like baby, ;
r she said John Jones, you old da
ling!
in No, not bit of darling; ju
a an old bear, regular old heather
ct sacrifice the best little woman und
On the sun, inch by inch this way that
ad beer gong on for years" snuf1ed h
as he fumbled over her face in /;
ed aimless loving way
N, Then our girl, Barbery, went in
Jane Jones harness, and it fitted b
IT, to fraction.
w Now wev turned over new les
or so and dress up, Jennie, bless you
said the new convert.
|y, So, with the memory Of auld la1
at syne warming her heart, Jane u
re earthed her wedding dress in the a
w ternoon, and brushed out her nu
ed brown hair that once upon a tir
en- curled beautifully. Perhaps she fl
ST. foolish and girlish. and out of b