Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1873-08-15
A MOther-in-iaw.

~ WOmau uleu tue Other udy, WHcst
story, as il seems TO us, might serve as a
text for one of our Saturday sermons !;
these gossippy, social sermons being in
tended to deal, not with the mighty doc
trines of the law, such as are enunciated
in the sanctuary between the solemn
chants and pealing organ. but with eve
ry-day matters; Jones's habits at the
club or shop, or Mrs. Jones's Planners
and customs in kitchen or parlor, and
the chivalry, justice, and truth, which
come into such matters. This woman
lived an altogether common place life,
Just as nine-tenths of US do; made no
noise in the world, came into it unno.
ticed, end went out of it unapplauded.
Nine tenths of us-no, all of us-think
that will not be said of us when we are
gone. We may know that we have had
neither wit nor grace nor beauty, bu;
some gentle soul will be grieved at our
departing. There will be vacant space
10 the household which will, we think,
never be filled. If we had nothing else
to give, we have given love, heaped up
and overhowing, and that always shall
have its reward. Always? Let us see.
The woman who lay dead in her cof-
fin last week was as home'y there as she
had been in life. A stout, middle aged
person, with thin gray hair, knotted in
a wisp behind, and pair of iron-bound
spectacles over her anxious, sad eyes.
Even as young woman she had been
but one Of the ordinary crowd of bright,
fresh-eolored girls, who sink their own
individuality and whatever little special
talent they have in the service of hus-
band and children, and after few years
are ordinary still, the fresh color and
brightness all gone. The little talent
which this young girl had was keen
love of music and a sweet voice, for
which her only use was to put her babes
to sleep. But through all her daily
drudgery, in kitchen and dairy, this love
of music seemed to her a something,
which, if she had time to study and un-
derstand, it might raise her to higher
levels. Even as it was, thoughts and
emotions in life took hold of her through
it, which did not belong to kitchen and
dairy. She had glimpses of "sweet
fields beyond the swelling flood which
no sermon ever gave her.
She was hard working wife and
mother, her husband small practition
er in a country town. By the time her
children were grown her hands we're
hard and bony, her eyesight was nearly
gone, her health broken whatever
strength or power God had given her she
had spent lavishly in lew years for
them. The husband died, and at the
same time came an increase of income
enough to make the family easy and af-
fluent. Both son and daughter we're
married. Now, surely, came her holiday,
when she couid sit down little while to
feel the rest and sunshine before going
hence, when those for whom she was
worn out would have chance to nurse
the tired body and cheer the long anx-
ious soul. How was it? Her daughter,
of whom the fond silly woman made an
idol, was a good, pious woman, and not
an ungrateful child. But she had other
charms; her husband begrudged every
moment or loving look she bestowed to
the woman who had given her life, and
to say the least, had, unpaid, given her
for lifetime the service of hireling.
He forgot this debt. He bad the COM
mon slang about motheisin-law at his
tongues end; she was weight, an incu-
bus, be swore. With the sons wife it
was worse; women have but little pa
thence with women. She had enough to
eat and enough to wear, but that was all.
Every Onward politeness and kindness
were shown her, but there was not a
look nor word which did not teach
her that she was old fashioned lin the
way. Her day was over. When the
first grandchild came, how proud and
elated she was how her blood warmed
again, and her poor hands trembled as
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 irst-born lyi q
there. But her daughter-h her first-born
would not trust the babe to her old
fashioned ways. 1t was to be brought
up scientifically. She laughed at the
woolen socks aud queer little barricoats
she had been making for months. Sc
in everything. Music in the family was
a passion; they studied it as artists
When the poor old woman Joined her
cracked voice in the choruses she saw a
covert smile on the face of every grand
child. Ii never occarred to them thai
concerts or operas could give the dull
soul rare pleasure yet untasted in heI