The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1875-02-26
ROSAMOND,s BOWER.

= 0ouDs II sne na0 any amh1Gon. 10
wish to be great, to be known of all the
world, 70 be very wise or learned, never
entered her simple mind bat one thing
she hoped and labored for with all her
M1ght-tO be empress of her husbands
heart, and living queen regnant in his
home. Such home as size made of it.
hoo--so bright every nook and dcorner-
30 bright as she was with her fair,
smooth face-smooth save for dimples. |
Mathew Mercer should have been q
very happy man, and SO he esteemed
himself. Two children as pretty as /
their mother played at her knee; and |
there never had been an angry word be- |
tween the pair since he first courted her. |
They were as greatly blessed as were |
Adam and Eve in paradise. But even |
10 paradise, as We remember, there |
GERS home came one day Elsie Grey, as
fair serpent as one could meet-a
woman of whom one said, looking at her
for the first time, She is as good as
she is beautiful" She came as gov
erness for the children; and Margaret,
charmed by her sweet face, made
compact Of friendship with her at once,
&nd was well pleased that Mathew
liked the girl.
She is 50 lonely, my dear" said
Margaret, looking mp into her hus-
bands eyes, as they stood together be-
fore the pleasant fire on the first even
ing after the governess' coming. "And
it is hard for any woman TO earn her
bread anong strangers let us be very
good TO her.
ssYou could not help being good to
s. and viii try but must not quite
make love to her-eh, Maggie2"
Then the wife had turned and kissed
him.
ST should be jealous, and put poison
In q bowl of coffee, and offer her the
choice between that and your sharpest
razor, she said, laughing.
That was in December. One day in
June Margaret walked little thought
fully among the roses in the garden,
and wondered whether it might not be
that she sOas little Jealous.
$50 wrong of me-" she said to her
self. IS Mathew is only kind to Elsie. "
A tear trenibled on her eyelash, and
at last she sat down upon bench and
fairly sobbed aloud, telling herself all
the while how wrong it was.
And Just then, without knocking, in
walked Miss Euphemia Jones, her next
door neighbor, and looked straight into
the wet eyes, turned, somewhat 1ndlg-
'tHin't well, eh2'' said the spinster.
''Not very" said Margaret. And
tired, you know, and
s'And unhappy" said the spinster.
'sDon't tell me, Mrs. Mercer. And
this I say-get rid of that sly boots of
to cry than you have now. Men are
men, Mrs. Mercer, and your hus-
band"
s.He is the best man in the world, -
said Margaret.
ssBut he's man, IS said the spinster.
WTTf. =. T@-1
men. The last bright eyes are always
brightest. It's only women that love
through long years with nothing to
show for it-not kiss, not q word, not
letter women that love some one
pithout q speck of beauty until there
couldn't be any face SO bright and deaz
to them in all the.world. Men amt like
Grey is pretty, my dear"
But Mathew Is my husband, pant.
ed Margaret.
"Then he ought not to go a-walkin
with Miss Grey" said the spinster
IS holding her hand, too-he oughtn' I.
Don't be frightened; But there's
something you ought to know-he
oughtn't TO go out of town along with
her. We saw them go, and Mrs
Thompson, only an hour ago. Ny
dear, did you know they were going
Ny dear, don't look SO don't feel SO
If you can help 1t. She had q bag will
her: so had he. She
Rut then the wretched wife fell for
ward into her neighbor's arm, insen
sible.
Other neighbors camein, and they pu
her TO bed and took care of her a
though for once all women were sis
ters. There was no doubt on any onet
mind chat the very worst had come tt
pass and SO, indeed, 1T had. Be
IL h1Ss
wife's kind heart had warmed AMI
nourished until it had strength Il
sting her, Mathew Mercer had left hi
home, his wife, ana his children 10
her sake.
Margaret had no father or brother
to take her part she could only suffe
in silence That which aroused he
FIRST was the need of earning bread TO
her ehildrem-the two who had cease,
their play 10 wonder why home hal
grown so dull place, why papa neve
came home, and why mamma wept .
bitterly, and the unconscious Httl
creature born At the time when he
grief was the greatest and the blow bu
newly fallen.
What could she do for her children
bread With the question came
thought to which ambition never Woul
have given birth. She could peint
Already certain little bits Of still life
scraps Of landscape, and child's heal
or &wO, proved her power to put pref
~ thing, If not . fine one, upon can
vas. Many artists at least lived by thei
Mrts She would live, and her childre
ehould know no want. And so she b
gan her hfe-work.
There we're hours to come of povert
10 great, that tho prayer for daily brea
was answered with no more than bree
and water. There we've nights passe