Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1873-07-17

did all they could for the sick woman,
the physicians prescribed their most
subtle doses, and John Matthews, well
fitted for the vocation, watched night
after night.
Weeks passed. It was Saturday
night again. The basket of mending
was filled to overfiowing, yet it remained
ntouched-undisturbe Mary Mat
thews still lay upon her sick bed; John
Matthews still watched by her side.
Not in vain had the husband sat by the
side of his wife all these days, nor had
he listened to her rawlings for naught.
Mutterings of a crazy woman, others
might have termed them, but to John
Matthews they were terribly significant.
However strange and wild her fancies,
her one cry had been always the same,
as worn out she would sink exhausted
among the pillows. 1t was a cry for
sympathy, for love, cry full of yearn-
ing-and so hopeless-so sad--oh, how
could it but touch his heart, how could
it but speak to him over and over again,
the one word neglect, which he had
shown toward Mary Matthews the
woman whom he had promised, before
God, to love, ay to cherish, as long as
they both should live. And she was go
ing to die now, the neighbors said so;
the doctors gave no hope, Was he to
be released from his contract just as he
began to realize what IoUe and cherish
meant He looked at her as she lay
there in stupor. He saw beside her
pale, thin, careworn face, another
roguish and ruddy; a girlish face, with
full, plump cheeks and pretty, laughing
eyes a dear, sweet, oval face !; and the
border-land above the merry blue eyes
was smooth and white, not a line of
trouble written upon it, nothing but
soft, brown curls wandering where they
would. It was the countenance of his
Mary when he first called her his little
girl wife. She was seventeen then, and
now she was-he counted up to see
yes, she was thirty now; they had been
married just thirteen years. Her
beautiful hair was full of silver-gray
now; her features were sharp her
cheeks hollow; her eyes SO sunken-a
little, faded, tired out woman, there she
lay. Oh, how old she looked. Mary,
oh Mary" he murmured, "and so
young p He took her hand in his
what a hand for woman J. How the
| Joints were spread How discolored the
skin What had become of the fair
little hands, with the dainty fingers, that
his Mary used to have? And then
something within him whispered, &C She
lost them working for you-in loving
and cherishing you. Yes, she had
toiled for him early and late-she had
laid down her life in his service-her
part of the contract had been nobly full
filled? What had he done for her
Had he given her fortune? No; he
had spent what little she brought him.
Had he given her love? Doubtful.
Had he comforted her when discour-
aged? No. Had he borne her burden
when it weighed heavily-had he eUer
| said, Never mind, Mary, such and such
a trial is hard to endure, but we'll share
it together I' He could not recall an
instance. Had he ever read dear,
precious words to her as she sat sewing
and darning for him !? Not once. As
he had come home night after night
| through the years, had he been won't tc
tell the little woman who never left
/ home what was going on in the outside
world? No. And when by hot stove
the little flushed face had watched hi
fayorite dish that it might not burn, hat
it ever occurred to him to thank her
Never What had he done for her an.
2 way-in what way had he cherished her
Oh, chill ran through that iron frame
as the man answered that question IL
his heart-as he admitted to himsel
that his wife, Mary Matthews, hat
|
} sisted, unsupported, unappreclated, un
cherished, had gone on her way lionel.
and sad, craving and praying for tn
: sympathy which he had withheld. AM
John Matthews groaned, as well b
: might, and hid his face in his hands
while the tears trickled through hi
> fingers, as he thought upon the pas
which he could not recall, of the suffer
= ing woman before him who lay q
> deaths door, and whom he had refuse
r to cherish.
: He started! He thought he hear
? Mary's voice. Yes she was in he
t right mind! She knew him-she wa
4 beckoning to him., He leaned towar
: her and brushed the tears from his eye
s ssJohn," she whispered, +" dear John,
d and that was all. Soon again she mul
Q INJURED, ssTo-morrow will be Sunday
5. nv work is all done" Then her veal
n trembling hand sought his face and 81
g tried to stroke his beard, as she hs
e done weeks before, but her strengt
d failed her and it fell back upon the be
is A beseeching look came out on h
:, countenance, her eyes-faded eyes
K glanced eagerly at him-and the whl
=: lips twitched and trembled. He 1nte
d preted the expression of longing;
~ read the cry her features uttered it W
| d SOITylIS uCdIO oPOhO W AiAAA1
at was entreating him for a little love. I
y need to beg for it now, love had sudde
J. ly become very plenty-no need that s
ct should ever hunger again. For m
le ment she looked at him anxiously ;
er was overcome with emotion he tried
IN speak, but his throat was choked
it tried to answer her with smile, but
re could not control his face, and the tef
r? blinded his eyes so that he could I
ut see. And thus the little woman we
ne on her long journey, unblessed with
We knowledge that she was loved, appre
nd ated, cherished-at last. She made G
to more effort, to. reach his. face with
ng hand and failed then, still searchi
le- for comfort, she died, whispering,
go and wake up baby
en- Hours after, the neighbors found Jo
k; Matthews, with his arms around
of dead form of his wife, and he was ki
d; ing her cold face again and again, {
ne Ecaressing her hands, wet with his tef
en- t" 1t seems he really loved her after a
sry they whispered to themselves. But
ihe grief-stricken man was groaning
tie himself meanwhile, "Too late, too l;
od she is dead, my Mary is dead.
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