The New York herald., 1874-11-28


neither was the reception which the traveller re
celvsd. In the poor little parlor. with its sande'
ment two men, In wet coats steaming nom TIT
rain. sat before the nre taking loudly over thei
te sss Of wsisssy @ while Jeans voice ram
continuous and generally angry mopologue. Tn
new conner came up 70 ner tlmidly. holdini
room with nre, where she and ner children
could rest "A room to YOURSELF" sait
are you better than other folk, that ye canni
share and share alikey Sirs this leddy's mista'eI
naebody TO gang near them. Here's a, the % private
room you'll get IN my hoose. Eh, woman, canns
and ~eess can see % sna ou1 nsedna
decent folk SIT an from the dre and let the wo
you want there, drboling and drinking and spend
Ing your wives siiers Let the puir bit things gel
s'Jean, you're the greatest randy in the parish
said one OF the men, getting up In time to save
himself from the ignominious push aside which
the new conner drew her little boys to the IRE,
took one on her knee and put her arm round the
other, drylag their little wet hands and faces
with corner OF her shawl. They were subdued
into quiet and comfort BY the time that Mrs. Mac
fariane's servant lass, Jess, brought them their
brown sugar and a jug Of skim mix nanking the
broken and smoky teapot People In this poor
the miserable beverage warmed and comiorted
the humble travellers. After some time and
inI. much sn further parsy with Jess who was was
tressthough she, too, felt herself the superior OF
90 poor guest-the woman and her children
bedroom, poor exchange for the nreside, which.
grmy as 1t was, had the comfort Of warmth. Dear
prehensons, at leas:-nave died OF such treat
ment; but the tramp mother Is saved from ankle
ties which trouble mothers IN other circumstances.
She did al she could Tor them. and which OF US
can do moreY She had no dry clothes to put on
them; but she was not AFRAID Of taking cold
fell fell asleep, and nd covered % them With 'D Blanket
They were damp, but warm, and rest was heavenly
to their poor little weared limbs. They were
asleep as soon as their little heads touched the
pillow; and then she sat down oy the bedside-to
think.
How many processes get called by that name
which have little enough TO do with thought !
The mother OF these children had lived up to
this time an almost entirely physical existence
that is, she had indeed gone through passions
and miseries, and acted upon impulses which
had to do with the more ethereal part OF her
Il humbly suppose, not knowing) sensation be-
yOnd the reach or any animal, save man; but
never all her LIE had she been moved before by
tremendous moral impulse, against her own
will and in contradiction 10 all that she believed
to be for her own good and happiness. AT other
times she had eased the pain In her breast by
sudden resolutions, sudden actions all more or
less like the instincts OF an animal. to get rid or
some burden or trouble which oppressed her.
But somehow-she could not tell how-an entirely
new tide had set In, mysterious and unaccounta-
Dle, in her being. she mad been driven by an i'm
pulse which she hated, which she resisted, which
made her miserable, to do certain act which her
wild and uninstructed mind took to be JUS
but but graGually % T it had grown unt X i ss became
too much for her and had driven her at last to
the verge Of the act which would make ner miser,
revolution mad been worked in creature so un-
taught as to seem without any moral nature at
all, before things came to this pass, need not
say And now she sat down, as she thought-to
think; not TO think whether she would do II, but
which it was to beg Her mind was wildly made
a
law of justice which had seized upon her against
ner will she y was about to give up to ] them
What she had TO decide now was-which was 1t
TO be?
foolish and much that was wrong {but that be.
cause she knew no better in her life. She had
been trouble to many better people than herself
She mad spoiled one other existence as well as her
Ow q, and thrown a cloud upon several lves-all
without knowing much what she was doing
without meaning tout OF ignorance. Now here
10 determine their course almost as she
pleased, YET as cS ignorans as eyeraas little
II ever woman merited pity this poor woman
did-not only to give up one OF her children, but
yet SO keen as it was became. as it were, sunused
with mist OF pain; her head grew giddy, film
overwhelmed her-tnat terrible sensation which
makes your very being reel ike drunken thing,
that you cannot bear that when you know you
must bear, whatever happens. She put down her
throbbing mead into her hands. TO keep silent
for that terrible moment not to cry out and
writhe, as tins sword went through her heart. was
all that she could do.
She was tail young woman, with a fine, elias.
tic. well deyeioped figure. looking about thirty,
regular; the great, restless unquet, dark eyes
Mashed out OF deep caverns which seemed TO nave
been hoIowed out by pain or passion rather than
by time. ANY decacy OF complexion or youthful
bloom which she had ever possessed must have
rpne OF eds coor expos
ure OF health and vlgOr, but OF that vigor and
health which are purchased by all the severitles
OF an outdoor hfe. No one could see her once with
out wondering over so much beauty accom-
panied by so little attractiveness. She had
70 and % miserable dress. But me notWithstandins
this, there was that in her abstract look-aiways
busy with something else than the thing tmmedi-
ner and indifference TO all surrounding her
which, think, would have made the most aban-
to this strange vsgrant. she had wedding ring
on her finger; that was no great matter for 1t Is
easy to show the world that ensign OF respect
ability; but there was something more trustwor-
thy ID her look and presence, the passioness ab-
straction OF her air. In her rough Dress with her
outdoor look, her hard hands, her strange beauty,
scarcely on the wane, she was prcrec from
every shadow OF Insult oy the stony purity OF her
looks. Snch woman might be miserable enough.
There were dreary, red curtains half drawn over
the window, and the dngy blind was partially
drawn down, leaving little light IN the miserable
room, even had the SKY been bright; and 1t was
now darkenlng toward night. II was the physical
cold, tnInk-that discomfort which always makes
itself douDly Ielt wnen the mind Is weighed down
with trouble which reused her TO the sense that
what she had TO DO must be done quickly.
She rose up and wandered, tottering round
and round the beo, arst to one side,
then TO the other, asking herself that
heartrending queston-WnicnS The children
lay there in the pretty grace or childish abandon
One little fellow had Kicked on unawares his
muddy boot which lell 10 the ground and startled
her that she put her hands TO ner painting side,
and dld not recover the shock Tor some moments.
He was the fair enid OF the two, and lay ike little
wnte angel with his dinpied hands stretched
above his head in the perfect grace OF
infant sleep. The other was almost as dark
as his brother was fair; his black, curly
locks were rufied up from his bold FORE
head, his little arms folded on his breast his
rose mouth shut close with UNCONSCIOUS resolute-
ness-thOugh 1t might be but the mothers sick
fancy whicn saw the expression on the little face.
They were beautiful children Doth with general
resemblance to each otner. yet very unlike--one
SO blonde and the other so dark; one so delcately
gentle in his aspect the other bold and handsome,
Ike little gypsy prince. Poor soul what words
can use to describe the agony OF cnoce with
which this unhappy woman hung over them2
but she made no cnoice at all-how could she2