Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1873-07-17

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. It 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 loye 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; girlish face, with
full, plump cheeks and pretty, laughing
eyes dear, sweet, oval face and the
border-land above the merry blue eyes
was smooth and white, not line of
trouble written upon it, nothing but
soft, brown curls wandering where they
would. 1t 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 !" He took her hand in his
what hand for woman 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, "She
lost them working for youth 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
filed? 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
trial is hard to endure, but we'll share
it together p 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 wont to
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 his
favorite dish that it might not burn, had
it ever occurred to him to thank her
Never What had he done for her any
way-in what way had he cherished her?
Oh, chill ran through that iron frame,
as the nan answered that question in
his heart-as he admitted to himself
that his wife, Mary Matthews, had
travelled the rough path of life, unas-
sisted, unsupported, unappreciated, I'M
cherished, had gone on her way lonely
and sad, craving and praying for the
sympathy which he had withheld. And
john Matthews groaned, as well he
might, and hid his face in his hands,
while the tears trickled through his
fingers, as he thought upon the past
which he could not recall, of the suffer-
ing woman before him who lay. at
deaths door, and whom he had refused
to cherish.
He started He thought he heard
Mary's voice. Yes she was in her
right mind She knew him-she was
reckoning to him. He leaned toward
"John, she whispered, dear JOHN
and that was all. Soon again she MUIR
INJURED, Tomorrow will be Sunday
my work is all done" Then her weak,
trembling hand sought his face and she
tried to stroke his beard, as she had
done weeks before, but her strength
failed her and it fell back upon the bed.
A beseeching look came out on her
countenance, her eyes-faded eyes
glanced eagerly at him-and the white
lips twitched and trembled. He inter
preted the expression of longing he
read the cry her features uttered it was
sorrying heart that spoke to him, it
was entreating him for little love- No
need to beg for it now. love had sudden
" become very plenty-no need that she
should ever hunger again. For mo-
ment she looked at him anxiously he
was overcome with emotion he tried to
speak, but his throat was choked he
tried to answer her with smile, but he
could not control his face, and the tears
blinded his eyes SO that he could not
see. And thus the little woman went
on her long journey, unblessed with the
knowledge that she was loved, appreci-
ated, cherished last She made one
more effort to reach his face with her
hand and failed; then, still searching
for comfort, she died, whispering, eli
go and wake up baby"
Hours after, the neighbors found John
Matthews, with his arms around the
dead form of his wife, and he was kiss
ing her cold face again and again, and
caressing her hands, wet with his tears.