The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1874-04-30

and considerable executive energy. \
children occupied her leisure hours, she di
not like children; so she took three o
four boarders and kindly, or otherwise
overlooked their affairs. Among these wa
, Ruthy May. Now Mrs. Heale liked to b
admired, extremely. She knew she wa
! handsome, she thought herself fascinating
and she almost hated George Wilbur be
! cause he never looked at or spoke to he
more than courtesy demanded, but devote,
himself to that little thing who could not
to use Mrs. Heale's own phrase, hold
candle" to her own beauty. So she sc
herself to work to trouble him if she could
and dropped here and there, in Ruth
hearing, but not to her, little cOntemptu
Gus remarks. and dubious opinions, an,
half sentences, till in spite of the girls real
loyal affection for George, there was a sor
spot in her heart that her subtle tormentO
did not suffer to heal.
This woman's husband was great hon
est fellow, who adOred his wife as spanie
does its master. Clumsy and kind. h,
waited on and worked for her, thought he
perfect, and supposed everybody else did
and was as good to little Ruth as if he haC
been her brother.
All the way home from the donation
party Mrs. IIeale cOntrived, in her Owl
feline way, to scratch the absent George
while pretending to pity him; she apollo
gized for his not coming back with Rutl
till the poor girl felt as if he had meant tC
slight her; she spoke Of his wishing for ;
donation party, and hoped everybody
would carry him something, it was so hare
to start in life with nothing at all; sht
should use her influence to have Mr.. Smith
who owned a chair-tactOry, send him a
II. IL. a~n1 rl.
could persuade the tin-man out of sOm(
pie-plates or bread-tins; and the store
keeper, Mr.. Blivins, was her husbands
cousin, she knew he would send LITTLE
sugar and teal One would have thought
George a literal pauper; and Ruth chOkeC
with rage, but managed to say, bitterly,
Perhaps you'll give him some colo
pieces %
"Oh, yes,' giggled Mrs. Heale. ''Pl
do all 1 can to help; he's young mar
that'll always get helped "-and she EN-
phasised the words in a way that made
them say he would always need to be.
In hundred ways after that, she tOlC
the tale of Georges donation party, till the
idea spread and took root that he was al
idle, uncertain. "shiftless" fellow; the
bank cashier who boarded at Mrs. Heale's
was shy of discOunting his small notes
the painter and glaZier whom he tried tC
engage hung back, and delayed, and asked
for security; even Ruth's letters grew
short and dull, and the rare evenings he
could spend with her she seemed silent and
coof~ for Mrs. Heale had clOuded even heI
clear head and warm heart with these
creeping, clinging scandal mistS, and
moreover. planned with Jesuitical inge
nuity that each night George came some
other visitor should help occupy the par
! lOr, and not leave him a half-hOur alone
with Ruth.
At last she contrived to have him hear
that Ruth said he was too poor to get
along without begging cold pieces, and had
| told Mrs. Heale sol Georges foreman had
come to Heale's shop on an errand, and
Mrs. Heale happened to bein the back shop
just as her husband stepped in to get the
new saw Jones wanted to ask about. Mrs.
IIeale grasped the situation; her husband
was very deaf; she knew that Jones was
thoroughly devoted to George, and she be-
gan in a loud tone:
George Wilbur wants the Sawl well,
don't trust him for it; get yOurPay. Ruth
May says he's so poor he'll have to beg for
cold pieces vet, she won't never take up
with him. Be sure of your pay, Sam -
With this she slipped out of the back
door, but Jones had heard enough, and.
paying Mr.. Heale on the spot, in great
rage told him he'd heard somebody a
lyin' to him about George Wilbur. George
was doin' fust-rate, and there was better
fish in the sea than that stuck-up little
SchOOl-marm. who needn't think George
was gOin' to knuckle down to her! ~
SO Jones went to Hillside, his quick
Welsh temper still raging, and raved all
out at George, who, poor fellow, laid this
and that together, and. with silent agony
at his heart, went about his business, and
Mr. Heale going home at noon and report
ing Jones's talk to his wife, she repeated it
loudly after him with small alterations and
explanations, knowing Ruth to be over
head in her own room. and the stOve-pipe
that ran up through hole in the floor that
very dav taken down for spring cleaning.
Here was a nice little situatiOnl One
which common sense and a cool head could
have righted in an hour; an honest dis
passionate letter from either lover to the
other would have brought the truth to
light directly. But when was an angry and
grieved man ever able to see any side to a
question but his own? when did an eXas-
perated and disappointed woman ever write
a letter that was Just, or even generous
And,
''TO be wroth with one We love
Doth work like madness in the brain, %
is as true a diagnosis as ever any physician
gave of disease. No more letters passed
from either side: no more visits were paid
Ruth's rosy cheeks paled to the delicate
tint of hOt-hOuse blossoms, her bright eye
grew languid, her quick step slow and
weary. But her grit came to the rescue
she did not fall i'll, she only worked harder
than ever, laughed louder and took inter-
mnable walks before and after school hours
with anybody who would go with her, or
else alone, and said in her sweet soul all
the bitter things about men, and life, and
love that could have occurred to an ancient
cynic. George meantime worked with un-
natural energy; his mill ran late into
the moonlight nights, his hammer and
plane were heard at early dawn. The
widow Jones where he boarded veXed her
kind heart to see how little he ate. Had
he been in bonds to any vice now it
would have grown up with fatal luNuriance,
but George inherited a strong moral ma
ture, and it was fortified by vital Chris
tian ia tn; he had life to live and a death
to die yet; it was not in him to evade the
one or court the other, and if religion did
not in this hour of darkness afford him any
ldpAulC VI NpAfiOS w nm lilC Htthielii wv
for which his human nature longed, he
could yet, like agonized Samson, . feel the
pillars whereOn the house standeth, -
though the edifice itself seemed to reel
and quiver about him. 1t was tar into
spring by this time. \ New England
spring is but shivering travesty of the
poetic season. Its rare pale blossoms are
sweet as stars, but they are stars between
the clouds that threaten storm; its fields
are more brown than green, its tenderest
buds open on the edge of snOw-drifts, its
gaveSt sOngSter is the sad warbling song
sparrow that utters only passionate re-
gret:
$50 sad, so sweet, the days that are no more. -
And there is still less poetry in the long
rains, the flooded swampS and the linger-
ing fevers they engender.
Georges mill-pond was not the most
wholesome place after dusk and before
dawn, and frequent showers and melted
SHOWS had saturated all the swamps. By
the time the hot May sun shone out in all
its fervor, George came home to Mrs.
Jones's one night for his supper, but he
did not eat it, neither did he go back TO the
mill; Jones went for the doctor at mid
night. but the doctor was called too late !;
all he could do now was to watch, TO ruard,
to alleviate. Typhoid fever has the grasp
of an anaconda-Once in is coils. if you
Il IL