Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1876-01-27
SEEING BETTER DAYS.

embroidery.
The sturdy gossips of the seaside
village, who went about her with
skirts tucked up and their bare brown
arms ready and able for any work,
looked askance at the widow Minton,
with her pitiful meagerness of aspect,
her Pickering black eye, and her trail
ing old gown. They nudged each
other, and said, "Better days Lord
save u.s."
Bat the widow did not trouble the
neighbors much, nor they her A
body who couldn't do a hcartsome
hands stirring was best left alone to
her brooding, and the widows smoky
little cabin, solidarity apart on the sea-
shore, was left pretty much to herself
and her boy, Tom.
Tom was a sturdy, brown-faced lad,
who picked up living by doing odd
jobs for the boatmen. and now and
then taking day for fishing. Tom
| had probably never seen better days.
The widow shook her head over him
so stupidity content, poor Tom so
beaming and good-ratured over beg
garliness and hopelessness. A tall,
well grown fellow, with bare feet, a
torn straw hat, and red shirt, Tom
took the world easily, looking with
reyerent eyes on his mothers by gone
gentillty, but by no means seeming to
coyet i, for himself.
The widow deemed it due to her
past responsibility to be seen at church
of Sunday evening, and you could
see the two walking at twilight along
the sands together, she with her clean
pocket-handkerchief folded over her
old hymn-book and a certain doubtful
hesitancy of gait, as if heaven itself
might be looking down critically on
her shabby black gown and rusty
bonnet. As for Tom, patient Tom, he
went Flooding slowly after her, with
his smiling face, whistling to himself
as be went Always patient, always
plodding, poor Tom. Patiently fall
ing asleep during the sermon, and
patiently listning, open-mouthed, to
the closing hymn, his careless, bright
face, contrasting so oddly with his
mothers querulous and tear-worn Wis
age, won for him the soubriquet of
Widow Minton's rainbow.
The minister Of the parish, mistaken
soul, deemed it incumbent to make
call on the widow; and. on charity
bent, it is said be uuwarily offered
to employ her services III his house
hold for season. He deemed 1t his
duty to rouse the old woman to activ-
itY.
lie did arouse her; and it is averred
that he never found time to call at the
cabin again. Did he take her for a
common household drudge, or a low
born field hand She thanked God
that she had too much spirit left yet
to put herself under anybody's feet.
He hadn't far to 60 to find scores of
drudges and diggers, but he might 90
further before he knew a lady when
he saw her.
1t might have been the afternoon
after the good mans visit that the
widow sat idly brooding at her cabin
door Her eyes had a wandering,
far away look, and her face was keen.
err and thinner than ever. Beyond
the bluff which sheltered her cabin,
stretched a far-line of sea-cost, the
white sand cleaning silvery in the
sun. Far off group of bathers, in
bright dresses, frolicked between
shore and water They came from
the great hotel down beyond /; she
could almost catch the sound of their
voices as she sat slowly rocking in
her doorway. 1t was quiet after
noon the air was soft and soothing,
and the widows heart was full of
bitterness, felt itself sweeten and soft
en- in the stiffness. This part of the
shore, sheltered by its overhanging
rock, was seldom disturbed by intru>
ders, but presently the watchers eye
caught sight of young girl splash
ing and frolicking in the water just
beyond the rocks. 1t was a pretty
sight, the rounded arms, the curving
shoulders, the swaying floating fig
ure. And perhaps the old woman re-
called with sigh the time when she
was young and blithe TOO, and had as
CHEEKY voice as that with which the
fair swimmer hailed her companions
in the distance
Gazing abSently on the smiling
scene, a reverie fell upon her, and
when she looked again, the young
water -nymph had disappeared She
had probably swan ashore behind the
rocks. The widow turned away,
huoged her thin shawl over her Shout
ders, and thought that the sea wind
was chilly. Hark What was that
Surely she heard cry. No merry,
merry shout or ringing laugh this
it might be the cry of wild bird on
its way to its mate.
She could't have got beyond heI
depth, that young creature, surely,
But la what of it if she had? Dying
young, a body gets quit ola deal o.
f; trouble. And-Yes, surely, that was
scream. The widow looked sharply
out. Would Tom never come Tbs
LiUt WAS iloiuSs anu SOiHSSIlllS CSt
tainly was the matter. She called :
she beckoned frantically to the bath
ers beyond-they seemed both blinC
{ and deaf.
No one, not one soul, at hand, ant
that young thing in the peril of life
: A minute she stood still, listening
feeble old women with a haggard
. scared face, to which no one would
have dreamed of looking for help.
. L can't stand this" she said. 81
7 seems | might pull out the old scov
: myself Tom," she screamed, with
yell that held the concentrated energ,
5 of ten years. But no Tom appeared
;, And it was the widow herself, witt
those withered old hands that dis
dained the minister's kitchen worl
it was the widow herself, who
n straining, tugging and with her gra
hairs fiuttering in the wind, unloose
= the old dug-out from its mooring:
y ~.