Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1873-01-16
Rocking the Cradle.
BY JEAN INGELOW.

Once in the dusk of the evening a
mother sat rocking the cradle.
1t was harvest-time: the day had
been hot, and she had been out CLEAN
ing A bundle of wheat lay beside her
on the brick floor. She sighed from
heat and WEAKNESS, but the baby was
restless, and she began to talk to 1T in
soothing tones, as with her foot she
kept gently and mechanically rocking
the cradle.
A young lady sat opposite to her.
There had been pause in their pre-
vious conversation; the mother inter
rnpted it by pushing the bundle of
wheat further from her, and remarking
that it was a very small one.
eyes, y said the young lady in soft
voice, sit seems not much to have
toiled for whole day, and such hot
day J" AS she SAID this sound OF
distant singing struck upon their ears;
it was very boisterous and unmelodious
singing. Their eyes met, and the
young lady continued: Il did not like
to ask where John was, Martha ; but
I'm afraid, now he can leave his bed
again, he goes on in the old wav2',
The woman sighed, aud as a watt of
evening air made the drunkard's song
audible again, she rocked the cradle
with quicker motion, and set her face
with resolute expression, gazing at
the still glowing sky. Every note in
that song seemed to cut her to the
heart; it was a sore subject, but by
sileuce only she answered the question;
4 eli, -,
her tanned and heated face, she said,
without changing her attitude CT with
drawing her steady eyes from the sky,
g / am kindly obliged to your mamma
for the needle-work."
"Mother thought it was better for
you than working in the fields" said
he girl.
The woman's foot moved more
quickly still the song was to much
Tor her, and she threw her apron over
her head and sobbed
"Dont cry, Martha" said the girl
compassionately, as she rose and
quietly closed the easement "that
does no good, you know, and only
makes you feel the more"
The baby in the cradle threw up its
little arms and uttered q crv-perhaps
the hasty movement of the mothers
foot had startled It, Nothing could be
more tender than the slightly broken
voice IN which the poor woman soothed
it, saying, "My poor jewel, l hope
thou'lt be happier than am hope
thoult never have drinking hus-
band"
- She is going off to sleep again,
Martha, said the girl, as she stopped
over the cradle
Bless her." replied the mother
with sigh of fatigue; II hope she'll
not have to work as hard as her mother
does When | think what it is-sueh
a hard life, such a deal of labor to be
brought up to, and such language to
bear. and such coarse eating and drink
ing-and as for covering-ah dear /
think sometimes as | lie awake at
nights waiting till John comes home
from the ale-house-I think though |
love her dearer than all the world, |
would give her away from me if | knew
anybody that wanted her, and could
bring her up better. F"
"Give her away !" said the young
girl, with smile "No, that l am
sure you would not, Martial
Well, / like to think of it." return
cd the mother: "but l might find IT
hard to do. However, somehow | can't
keep my head from running on it some.
times but you know people don't want
70 have poor folks children, go / may
wish as long as like. Sometimes I've
even wished she had been born to the
rich instead OF to me.