Ashtabula weekly telegraph. [volume] (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1853-1873, 1873-06-28
rIADGE MILLER.

Madge Miller, on a summer day,
Walked, ms usual, her pleasant way
Her dress was tidy, her apron whitey
Her face was sweet as the morning light
She was country village maid
Learning II country milllner's trade.
Her hands were soft and hei dress was clean,
And little she knew what care might mean.
She said: "rll work at my pretty trade,
And live a happy and free old maid.
lovers, may come and lovers may go,
I'll have none Of them, no, no, nor
But suitor came with tall silk hat;
He told her story worth two OF that
The same old story by lovers told,
Since first the earth out of chaos rolled
Let us kindly hope, who are old and wise,
He did not kn0W he was telling lics)
MARRY me, darling, and you shall be
The happicst woman ON land or sea
No longer then will you have TO 90
To your daily labor through heat or snow.
1t shall be my pleasure, my law, my life,
70 make you a blest and happy wife.
Marry me, and you never shall know
n oVllON WI hoiNohip' -
Marry me, darling you shall be
The happicst woman on land or scar
She heard the story of promised bliss
She waited, wavtTed--and answ cred "Yts"
Bright and big was The honeymoon,
And couded by worldly care too soon.
For housework led her its weary round
Her feet wcIe tethered her hands were bound
And children came with their small demands,
lettering closer her burdencd hands.
In htr husbands house she came to be
A servant in all but salary.
All her days, whether foul or fair,
Were endl, SIS circles OF work and care.
And half her ngllts-as up and down
She walked the floor in her dressing gown,
flushing an ailing infants screams,
Lest it should break its fathers dreams;
And wash the dishes and rub the knives
The lofty mission oil duteOus wives
Or coaxed and doctored sobbng child,
BY the pangs of earache driven Wild
Were seasons of wakeful, nervous dread
So fiat last DER her aching head
The angel of slumber chanced to stoop
lie brought Ler visions OF mumps or Group
And she rose unrcsted, and went once more
Through the dull routine oI the day before
Week by week did she drudge and toll,
And stew and pickle, and roast and boil,
And scrub and iron, and sweep and cook
Her only reading II recipe-book.
And bathe the children, and brush their locks
Button their aprons and pin their irocks,
And patch old garments, and darn and ment
Oh weary worry that has no cndl
She lost her airy and spnrtive ways,
The pretty charms Of her girisn days
For how can playful fancy rove
When one is tied up TO a cooking-slove :?
Her face was old ere she reached her prime
Faded and care-wOrn before lis Time.
Sometimes would her well kept husband lool
Up from the page of his paper or book.
And note how the bloom had left her face
And pallid lhinness won lis place
How gray had mixed with her locks ofbrow
And her forehead gained growing frowr
And say-"Shc is ugly declare p
wonder il ever thought her fair"
Season by season, year by year.
Did She follow lhe round "ot womans
sphere :"
Not vexed her husbands days or nights
BY any mention Of wOmans rights.
Till she died AT last-too severely tried
Her lies one selfish deed-shc died.
Proud and happy, and quite content
With the slavish way her days were spent!
Feeling of course, that her life was lost
NObly in saving a servants cost
Once, he luncied her dim ghost spoke
Out ol its cloud OF kitchen smoke
Il might have followed my tasteful trade,
And lived happy and free old maid
"Or taught school, as had before,
"Or been clerk i'll dry goods store
"Or reigned trim, whitc-handcd queen,
| Over duiiul sewiug.machue--
"And earned my living and some small pra
In amy one OF IA dozen ways. --. D.
mo other servants than wives, think,
Work for nothing but food and drink,
"a prisoning home like this know,
And u semi. annual calico f.ts-s
"No other employer, dame or man,
Makes life SO hard as It husband can.
All me wha, curses are on his head ,
Who woes q oman and does not wed
son, mourning damsels, who pine and c.
For tickle lovers, who vow and fly.
y "Hcal your heart-aches, and smoothe yo
| Nous -
With the ll,rd earned wisdom OF one wi
Il knows:
Shall oisdom haze ye 10 blame rue
Tile t0oer snh0 does NOT marIy goW =
"Ah lofall the sad thoughts ofwomen or m