Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1874-06-04
THE WIDOWS STORY.
BY MISS LUCY BRADSHAW.

ID -hAoo 1CS1
We were sojourning for a shoI
time at the Gait House, Kentucky
fortune had made me a rover from m
very girlhood. While my father at
tended to his business, / often roam
ed through the streets which are al
at right angles, after the Philadelphi
style, and amused myself by watch
ing the many faces that saw, ant
pausing now and again to play, for
moment, with some of the bright
eyed children that thronged the side
walks.
AS 1 was passing through one o
the short streets that cross the mail
thOrOughfare, l paused before a very
lowly and humble looking tenement
attracted by the pale face and Ian
guied eye of a little boy, who sat OIL
a door-sill, inhaling the morning ali
of fine spring day. To my interro
cations, the little fellow answered
with singular intelligence; said he
had been sick-that mother was SICK
now, and had sent him out to breathe
the fresh air. My sympathy andin-
terest were both at once enlisted
and asking the child if l might &C
in and see his mother, l passed quick
ly into the house, and came upon g
scene that brought quick tears into
my eyes.
The room / had entered was clean
and neat, though it contained Aeth.
ing beyond the positive necessaries
of life, including a low pine bed
stead, a plain deal table, and few
cups and saucers on a couple OF
shelves, beneath which were one OIL
two iron utensils for cooking. These
were the principal articles in the
room. Upon the bed lay the pale
and attenuated form of a woman, OF
perhaps three and thirty years, and
beside her an infant of seven or eight
months was sleeping-a beautiful
child, its full round cheeks contrast
ing strangely with the mothers at
tenuated figure and sunken emacia-
ted features.
Both were asleep. The mother
breathed short and quick, and sigh
ever and anon heaved her breast,
while dimpled smile wreathed the
tranquil features of the babe. All,
how l struggled with my feelings to
suppress any emotion or sound that
might awaken them. 1 could hardly
retain sufficient control over myself
to avoid sobbing aloud. Youth and
age, boyhood and motherhood-how
suggestive! What crowd of con-
tending reflections rushed through
my mind, and how they were height
ened by the grave contrast that eX-
listed between the blessed angel face,
and that of the careworn mother
l stood as though bound by some Sc
cret spell, until at last the infant
made some uneasy note of restless
ness, and the quick ear of the mother
caused her to awake.
OF course she was startled to see
me, a stranger, standing there, but
my countenance must have so plain
ly spoken the sympathy that felt at
heart, that she was at once reassured,
and rising from her humble bed, she
asked me to sit down. This l was
glad enough to do, for somehow the
effect of what l had seen was to set
me trembling, the activity of my
thoughts had made HE physically
weak, and I sat down, almost unable
longer to retain an upright posture.
After few kind and solicitous words
on my part, gained the key to un-
lock the story, the preface of which
lay open before my eyes. 1t was
sad-sad, indeed-but with most
beautiful and reclaiming shades of
character and nature in its relation.
Lucy Hubbard belonged to very
excellent family in New England.
Her father was a member of the le-
gal profession, and resided in one of
the large towns of the Eastern States.
Losing his wife while Lucy was an
infant, Mr.. Hubbard provided pru-
dent and competent housekeeper, un-
der whose charge he placed his child,
and being himself much absorbed in
his profession and in politics, he sell
dom interfered with the domestic ar
rangements, OR took cognizance of
them at all, further than to pay the
quarterly bills, and listen on such oc-
casion to the housekeeper's report of
the family affairs. Lucy, thus left
alone as it were, grew up, weed-like,
beautiful by nature, until her four
teenth year, when she was sent to a
popular boarding-school by her ia
ther.
This was a delightful change for
the child. To form so many ac-
quaintances, to be with so many kind
hearted companions, to strive to equal
them in her attainments, and to love
them too-for with heart capable
of loving warm, she had found, here
tofore, little exercise for this, power.
Lucy had been to school just one year,
and greatly had she improved. Per
L