The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1876-05-18
ruK WIDOW ~ TaE 4.

}ecled ta lbe proceeding, bat mildly .
became tbe good.humored husband Of
"whlmmy7 wife, 20 prone 10 tears thA
there seemed some foundation for her pe
apprehension that her blood was lurn
ing to water Grevionsly tormenied b,
nerves, she lonRed for womanly symph
thy. and on Mr.. Ebbsons's deceaae, moth
ing would DO bot tbA, the widow sboul,
sell her farm and occupy the Bulterkin /
for bad not Ruth aud she been dea
friends from glrlbood? Amer due deIb
GRAFTON, Mrs. Ebbson came, having hrs
secured life lease Of the building
4 busy little woman was Ruth Ebbson
ss she had need 10 be, her intemperaie
worthless husband having barely len hei
enough TO make both ends meet. II she
would lap them comfortably, Il must b,
by her own exertioAs with the needle
And as she sat cheerily stiichiag by hen
invalid mothers couch, Mrs. Butterkir
would often run IN with beans TO pick
over or apples 10 pare, and on rainy days
( Mr.. Butterkin, obedient to his wife,
suggestion, did many = neighborly turn
10 way Of carpentery. The two families
were almost as one. Indeed, the letting
q The l. seemed proyident arrangement
for all parties. II was a reliei to Mrs
Gibson to be rid of her farm; 1t was well
that her mother should be in easy access
OF a physician. Especially was II Of ad-
yantage TO Mrs. Butterkin to enjoy cheer.
fu companionship, and whatever was Of
advantage to Mrs, Butterkin necessarily
affected Mr.. Butterkin.
Thus years glided on, bringing mental
vlgor 10 the nerve-diseased Mrs. Butter
kin. She had never seemed In better
health than on that fatal spring morning
when she was prostrated By pneumonia,
dea;h-stricken from the first.
The Lord wills it, Ruth, and don't
feel to murmur, she whispered, with dy-
ing grace, but husband'll miss me, ]
know. You'll keep an eye on him, dear,
won't you when I'm gone, and make him
comfortable?
Mrs. Gibson sobbed promise; but az.
ter Mr.. Butterkin's bereavement she
found the eovenent embarrassing, for in
this sublnnsry world of ours q widow
who "keers her eye" on widower in
vites unpleasant comment, and little Mrs.
Gibson deprecated the speech of people.
Consequently, though she conscientious
y administered 10 Mr.. Butterkin's COM
fort, il was in unobtrusive ways, not sus.
pected by bin, and hardly realized by
the niece who kept his house. The door
between the two sitting rooms no long
er, as formerly stood invitingly ajar, but
was hasped upon the widows side. She
never passed through it now save in the
gentleman's absence, when she OCCASION
ally assisted the inexperienced Esther in
compounding his favorite dishes, or sur
reptitiously possessed herself of his fine
meuding. With his wife's demise the
old free and easy life ended. They were
two distinct households, growing further
and further apart, as the weed upon the
widower's hat waxed rusty beneath ac-
cumulated months of mourning. II could
scarcely have been otherwise. The closed
door was but symbol of the barrier
which, in the very nature Of things, must
exist between the bereaved Mr.. Butter
kin and the similarly bereaved Mrs. Ebb.
son. When right hand glove has lost
It's mate, and a left has met with similar
calamity, one naturally desires to fit the
remaining two together, If hapy they
make a pair, and the widow sensitively
shrunk at The thought of the neighbors
thus mentally matching herself and Mr..
Butterkin. As far as in her lay she tried
TO make IL apparent TO them that the
twain were two odd ones that could by
no possibility be mated.
But not so the gentleman in question.
That people should gossip never entered
his head. If in Iioxanpa's lifetime, TO
please her, he had done her dear Ruth
frequent neighborly favors, all the more
would be do them now that Roxanna
lay cold In death. And as day after day
went by, and he felt more and more
drawn to the cheerful bright-eyed widow,
the simple man believed this was solely
for bis departed wife's sake. She had
been dead year and a day, when Mrs.
Gibson whisked out upon the doorstep
one warm July morning to shake the ts-
becloth.
Anything wrong, Mrs. Ebbsonl
Mr.. Buuerkin paused on bis way from
the barn with bis milk.
Only those Brahmas, Mr.. Butterkin.
I've broken them up, and broken them
up, but they will set. (Mrs. Ebbson had
been reared in rural part of New Eng
land where hens never "sit.")
Well, why not lei emp
In July2 Now, Mr.. Butterkinl
Then suppose you tic red yarn about
their feetl
Why, they'd peek my eyes out, laughed
the widow, derterlously folding the table
cloth 10 It's former eresses.
She was sorry the moment she bad
said Il, for Mr., Dn,lerkiu at once offered
to assist In The girdling process. Why
should he noii Yet as be held The hens,
6rst one aud then the other, while she
bound about the right leg Of each The in
eubatiug Anklei, she was iuwardly aRi-
lated. and csuld not help being thankful
Il was carly morning and they were not
likely TO be seen by passers.by.
" s,eb feefinge tefturhed Mr. Pat.