Huntington advertiser. [volume] (Huntington, W. Va.) 1874-1921, 1875-02-25
LEAVING rHE FARM.
A Story for Young R.rslist's Wivss

A Story for Young R.rslist's Wivss
at is nothing but work, work,
work, from morning till night. A
farm life is perfect slaves life, and
for my part am sick and tired of it. "
And the face of the woman stand
ing in the dairy-room Of the farm
house grew darker and more dissatis.
fed, as one after another the rolls OF
golden butter came to perfection
under the touch of her quick, skilful
fingers.
She was 3 handsome woman of two
and twenty, with wavy, brown hair,
scarlet lips, and the charming face
that looked as if made for smiles and
dimples. When Gilbert Drew mar
ried her, three years before, people
said he made a sad mistake, that this
dainty girl, with her graces and ac'
complishment, would never be fit for
farmers wife. and would have no
idea of thrift and economy. But
thus far in her matrimonial career
she had not fulfilled the prophesy of
the gossips. Blest with perfect health
and an active temperament, she took
rapidly to household duties and, with
the help OF stout girl during the
summer months, managed affairs epsi-
" and skilfully at the farmhouse,
The farm itself. Gilbert's wedding
gift from grandfather Drew, was
large, fertile and situated in pleas
ant valley, and if well worked and
tended would yield any man COM
Portable living and something over
for rainy day. The house was
roomy and pleasant, fitted for com
fort as we'll as convenience. To Gil
bert Drew this place seemed the very
paradise of homes. He loved his
young wife with an absorbing afec-
ton he took pride in his fine, we'll
stocked farm and comfortable sur
roundings, and was perhaps thorough
ly content with his lot in life as it ia
possible for any man to be. But of
late a feeling of dissatisfaction had
been creeping into the heart of his
wife; and, like many a mistaken NOR.
tai, she failed to appreciate the real
and solid comforts that she every day
enjoyed, and coveted the fair, for
bidden fruit that seemed just beyond
her reach. A few months previous
70 the opening of our story she visited
an old school-friend whose home was
in the city. She attended several
parties, visited the opera and other
places of amusement, and rode in the
park on sunny afternoon and the
gayety and glitter of those few weeks
so completely turned the head of the
country-bred woman, that the visit
which her husband expected would
prove n recreation to her, only serv.
ed 10 make her restless and dissatis-
fed with her life. Every since then
she had been considering the posi-.
bility of inducing Gilbert to give up
farming and remove to the city; but
rs vet she had not broached the sub
iect to him, and she had felt reluct.
ant to do so, for knowing how much
he was attached to his present home,
she was well aware that knowledge
of her feeling would shock and pain
him. But on this particular morn.
ing she was even more discontented
than usual, and as he came whistling
up the path aud to the room where
she Was working, she made no effort
10 hide her tears, but met him with
such a gloomy, pouting face that be
stopped, surprised and wondering, in
the doorway.
"Why, Alice what is the matter ?
he asked, quickly.
IL am tired Of this everlasting
house-work," she answered gloomily
Gilbert Drew went forward then
and drawing his young wife to hin
said tenderly: Don't cry, Alice.
did not know you were working st
hard; you should have told me be
fore. We will have better girl, OF
you can get little Mamie Briggs VI
here to help Susan, if that will sui
YOU"
81 don't want any more help. Il
we must live in this out>of.the-way
place, | may as we'll be a kitchen
maid as anything else. But don'1
want to live on a farm, and l wish
you would sell out and 60 to the city,
"Sell The farm and 20 to the city
Do you mean that Alice :"
"Yes, | mean it. What is the use
ofour Shaving ourselves to death here,
when We might live go much easier
and happier in the city,"
81 am not sure OF that. The farm
affords us a comfortable living, and
if We should sell it and go away, | ain
afraid we might see the day when we
would be glad to come back"
II am sure that l never should.