Litchfield enquirer., 1875-05-20

i Sl0 OO0S uOh KNOW Ter munster Dy SlSuts N
 ''Wei, she won't acquire that knowl-
 edge to-day. any way. Mary Denny prom | ised to call for me at the Aliens and take
 me for drive in her pony-carriage down T to the lower, mills at the Pond, and that I is much pleasanter. '' 's-2 2. ssss sssA l 'Of course it is; and such lovely day,
 too. You will have 8 charming ride. I
 am so glad It will do you good to leave your writing, I am sure."
 "Yes; but about that old Mrs. Otis Can't you go there instead of me? You
 might"
 l ''Of course could. But she is so cross
 and so deaf am half afraid of her; and
 besides, if I do, it is you she wants to see,
 not me-"
 | sLet her take the best she can get" | said the unconscious egotist; II can't
 go."
 ''Shall you be home to tea, Boswell?"
 "I rather think not Mary said she
 would leave me up at the Whites on our
 way home; they are to have the choir up
 there this evening; they said something
 about your coming, but told them it was
 of no use to ask you, for knew you would
 not leave the baby all the evning.''
 "Of course could not" said the wife, picking up her baby and the tray ''You
 will have beautiful day; I half envy you
 the nice ride; but I'm sure you needn't,
 and if I were you 1 would not write
 another word to-day. Just lie down on
 the lounge and take nap, and you will
 be all rested and bright by dinner-time.
 If any one calls, I will say you are en-
 gagged (you are, you know, engaged for
 dinner), and I'll call you in time to dress, 1 and bring you some hot water. Now take
 my advice, and holding and smiling, the
 unselfsh woman drew down the shades
 and left him. I And this was but sample oftheir daily l life: just one day out of many in which
 the loving wife sacrificed herself, and the selfish husband either did not know 1t. or knowing, permitted the unacknowledged 1 sacrifice.
 But the bright and holy angels, who
 keep watch and ward over such women as | Lucy, were not unmindful of their duties. It never occurred to the quiet little woman herself that she was domestic slave, and
 her husband & household tyrant; but the angels knew 1t. Oh you can't deceive
 the angels, and they were quietly working things round for her relief, and 1t was in | this wIse that it came.
 Mrs. Briant, Lucy's mother, was wid- ] ow lady of some property, After the mar l riage of all her children she had broken 1 up housekeeping, and had been making a l long visit to each of her two married sons,
 and now she wrote to say, if it was agree | able to Mr. and Mrs. Holland, she would come and make them a visit of a few weeks.
 Of course Lucy, who was the youngest l child and only daughter, was delighted. She came, all tears and smiles and blushes, 1 to show the welcome letter to her husband Of course he was not quite so much elated at the prospect; it was not to be expected he should be; and most wives would have resented his unsympathizing coldness;
 but Lucy had such pretty, winning way, and then she had, all unconsciously, learn ed the habit of arguing with him through
 his own interests.
 Mother is so cheerful" she said, s'and so pleasant, you will find her excellent company; and then she is such splendid housekeeper, and knows everything, and Katie and I are so inexperienced. She is 1 a capital cook, too, and makes things go as far again as I can. And such nice things as she can make l am only afraid, after l she has been here, you will think don't know any thing; but I shall keep my eyes open, and try to learn her way of doing l things. d1d not think half enough of 1t | while lived at home. And then she has had so much experience with children, she IS as good as 8 doctor; and I am such a little goose if any thing ails the baby; but l shall feel as if he is right if I can pop
 him into mothers arms, and I shall not
 have to rout you up at night to go for the 1 doctor every time he screws his dear little
 face mp into quicker; and then she is so 1 fond of babies I dare say she will tend him half the time; and think how much
 more time l shall have to read to you and make parish calls P Certainly. as Lucy painted it, the offer ed visit did look promising; and even if 1t had not. how could her husband refuse it, the first visit from any of her family? So after chilling her with cold demurrers, that made her feel as if she had been guilty of asking very great favor, he gave an un- willing permission, and Lucy wrote joy full answer, making the most she could of her husbands ungracious consent, and filling up her letter with her own eager and warm-hearted welcome; and in due course of time Mrs. Briant made her ap- pearance. @
 She was a delicate, pleasing, lady-like little woman, with sweet brown eyes and a marvelously sweet voice, that excellent thing in woman. Never yet came Meme sis Tn gentler form or more alluring guise; but 1t was Nemesis all the same. She was an acute and observing woman; there was quiet but keen penetration in those soft brown eyes, but there was no bitterness about her.
 She waited and watched, made observa- tions and drew conclusions: she had seen l more of life than Lucy, and she had her own thirty years of welded experience to look back apon, and she soon mastered the situation.
 She read her son-in-law's character at once, the soft brown eyes went straight 1 through his shallowness down to his self ishness and indolence. Of course her motherly instincts were all on Lucy's side, who, she saw, was dropping under bur den of care beyond her strength; but she never thought of making her happier by pointing out her husbands faults to her; on the contrary, she always praised him whenever she conscientiously could, treat ed him with marked deference, and made | him more comfortable in a dozen little ways, while she was all the time quietly loosening his wlfe's bonds and transferring them to him.
 'sMr- Holland, :" she said to him one day in her sweet, gracious way, twill you have the kindness to pick us some pease for dinner to-day?'
 ..Me? I pick the pease?" asked the as- tonished son-in- law.
 ''Oh no, no P hastily interposed Lycy; 'I will get them; I was just going" My dear child I-not The vines are wet with last nights rain; and with your thin dress would not have you do itfor the world; and am sure MT. Holland would not hear of such thing" 1s.No, mol certainly not, 1" said the rever- end gentleman. 'tit is not fit for her, of course" though he remembered uneasiIy how many times she had done it, even in
 the rain. But can not Katie pick them?" l fI do not think she can," said the gen.
 tie voice; ''she is very busy ironing your
 shirts, and she does them very well, but ! she is very slow. could shell the pease
 if had them; but 1t is no matter; if you
 do not care about them. we will do with