Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-06-29
Talts and Sketthes.


out into this desolate wilderness" said
Mrs. Roland Hardy, half sobbing, and
really angry.
She arose and flashed round to the win
dow, there pressing her hot face SO closely
against the pane that her nose immedi-
ately began melting a grotesque pattern
of herself in the sparkling frostwork.-
Had you been gentleman, Roland, you
never would have thought of it."
When wives get into passion they are
apt to say things that they may hereafter
bitterly regret. Mrs. Hardy was no ex-
ception. Her husband stood breathlessly
silent, his face paling. They had not yet
been married year.
"Jane." he answered at last, in tones
hard and cold, IF had not thought you
were willing, ave, more than willing to
risk it, / should never have brought you,
and you know it. Remember, told you
it would be rough yet you were eager to
come"
Jane Hardy remembered very well, but
the memory of her earnest protestations,
her generous forgetluln6ss of self, only
angered her the more Just now.
"How wes to know it would be like
this? There You can go if you are
going. l should like to be alone-with
all this work to do
~ am going Directly was Mr. Hardys
answer, striving for tranquility "Will
you be good enough to put up my lun-
cheonp | shall not come back until
night"
"Oh, dear, yes" she replied with alac-
rity, bringing her face away from the win
dow with jerk. and proceeding to make
great clatter in the cupboard, which in
this pioneer cabin was u combination of
pantry and china closet.
II tear there is but short allowance of
wood ; will it last till this evening asked
Mr.. Hardy, obviously looking at the wood
box he had just replenished. and turning
to brush up the bits of bark that had
fallen on the neat rug carpet His words
were kind, but his tone was as chilly as
an icicle.
There is plenty; do not trouble your
self, responded his wife resenttully, her
eyes bent on the bread she was buttering.
In five minutes, man, dinner pail and
dog had vanished in the direction of the
great forest, and the young wife was
alone, as she had vehementy desired to
be. Roland had gone forth to his days
work of telling timber.
Most young and angry wives would
have burst into tears at this point. Jane
Hardy did not. She leaned against the
rude mantle shelf when her husbands
footsteps no longer sounded on the crisp
snow, and looked utterly sad and help
less, as if the light of her life had sudden
ly gone out; looked remorseful, too, as if
conscious of having had something to do
with its annihilation.
The story is one of those often enacted
in the new world. Certain expectations
suddenly failing him, Roland Hardy man.
fully resolved to betake himself to the
mighty woods, clear out a settlement for
himself, erect his own house, Robinson
Crusoe fashion, and in time, by dint of
his hands hard labor, become prosperous.
Hardy, the settler, he would be then, with
his farm lands around him, his tlocks and
herds, his people and his comforts. But
all that would have to be worked patient
ly for, and the beginning must, OF neces-
sity, be weary and toilsome.
Jane Dane, to whom he was engaged,
decided to go out with him-his wife. He
told her he had better 90 on first. say for
a year or two; her friends urged the same
advice; but the young lady would not lis
ten. SO far as he was able, Mr.. Hardy,
before their marriage, described what
their toll and their lonely life would be-
Jane Dean looked at it with rose -colored
spectacles. and thought it would be charm
ing, a kind of perpetual picnic. 1t is true
she did not bargain for the help they had
taken with them, in the shape of a man
and woman servant, deserting them
speedily, tired OF the rough work. sick at
ha lnpolipocS thoca In ka;,
places (after endless trouble aud long ne
goliation) had not yet come. But she had
put her own shoulder bravely to the wheel
in the summer weather, and made light of
hardships. 1t was winter now. And for
the first time her temper had given way.
Everything seemed to have gone wrong
in the cabin that morning, and her nus
bands calm cheeriulness through it all,
had provoked her most unwarrantably. |
But she was not feeling we'll.
1t is possible that many OF us have such
mornings when everything ami |
mates and inanimate conspires to bring to |
the surface the original gorilla that slum-
bers within the soul. These vexations have
to be beaten down promptly under ones |
feet, and Mr.. Hardy had stopped to squab-
BILE with ners. A dear little rose had been
discovered frozen, though wrapped in fan
mel and placed in the warmest corner of
the burrow under the floor, called, as a
matter of dignity, the cellar. To be sure.
The potatoes had been kindly spared but
what were gross potatoes when lovely
LamarqUe buds dropped in deathed ?
over them. Mrs. Hardly forgot
the milk toast, and the milk toast indig-
nantly boiled over. Catching the pan
from the stove. 10 splash of hot milk
fell on the front breadth of her clean, crisp
French Gingham, and another on the ear
Of poor David, stretched on the hearth
and the dog howled respousively. At an
other time Jane would have laughed but |
laughing was very far from her mood this
life in general was looking de-
pressedly gloomy; and when Mr. Hardy
came into this atmosphere of burnt milk
and piteous dog winnings, she was declar-
ing. in her fervd way, that housekeeping
out West was simply villainous, and that
she hated there she caught his provok-
inely smiling eyes.-yes, hated it, and
him. and the place, and everything.
He met the words jokingly, and it In.
censed her. In her angry spirit she said
things, and Mr.. Hardy was