The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1876-11-16
WHICH?
A MOTHERS 5 STORY.


had to work hard before, and thought
we had all we could do to make both
ends meet, an if it was hard then,
you can see, ma'am, that it can't be
near so easy now. But you know,
ma am, love helps us over hard work
wonderfully, an when we're working
for the children, we don't mind it so
much. John an l found that out
You see, John was sick last winter,
all the first of it, an you know,
ma am, with six children's mouths to
fill, it hadn't been possible to lay up
much money against sickness. / did
manage to save a siXpence now and
then, an put away in the old blue tea
pot on the cupboard there, but as soon
as John took sick the money seemed
to melt right away. 1t was gone the
first | knew, an | didn't know where
any more was coming from. But |
begin to think, a'am, there's always
something body can do if he's will
ing an has got some one to work for.
So | looked about an good luck was
on my side, for got a job Of making
vests for shop down town; an
Il ough it didn't bring in great deal,
it brought in something, an as | said
to John, when he got to fretting over
it, Something's good deal better'n
nothing"
"DOn't you worry" says I; l won't
see you an the children starve yet
awhile. You've worked yourself all
out for us, an now it's my tuIn to do
something, an let you rest up"
But it was hard work keeping the
wolf outside, maam. The children
had such big appetites that it used to
way, ma am, for all that, always en-
loved seein' EN- eat. 1t did me so
much good, you see. An I'm sure |
don't know what l should have done
without the children to help me.
There was Mary. She was ten years
old last Christmas, an it would have
done your heart good to see how handy
she was doing up the dishes, an get
ting the table ready, an sweeping out
the litter the boys made. While she
worked, I could be sewing, you see,
and the dear child really more than
paid her way, ma'am. An Johnnie
an Joe-they used to pick up blocks
to burn, an take my work to the shop
an bring me more; an they'd play
with the little ones an keep en- busy
so could work, an they helped me
more than enough to pay their way,
ma am, | assure you. 1t was really
wonderful the sight of work them
three children could do. | used to
tell John | didn't see what would be-
come of us if it hadn't been for 'em.
1t was in the winter that Uncle
William came down to visit us. He
lives up in the hills, and he's got a
good farm, an is pretty well off. He
brought a couple of turkeys an a
whole bag full Of corn meal, an Aunt
Rachel sent a lot of niCk-nacks to the
children, an we had splendid visit.
An | do believe, a'am, he enjoyed
his visit with the children more'n he
did with John an meas much, any
wav. 1t used to make him laugh to
see 'em eat johnnycake. They didn't
get that often, you know, an when
they did they relished it.
"You've got nice family of little
shavers a-growin' up round you,' says
he. Il suppose its sinful to envy any
body, but | wish 1 had some like 'em. y
An then Uncle William got up an
went to the window, an stood looking
out for long time. knew what he
was thinking of, you see. Two little
BOYS are buried in the old graveyard
by the Westinghouse, up at Hillbury,
an 1 knew he was thinking what a
sight of comfort they'd been to him if
they'd lived.
"You've got one thing to be thank
ful for, Uncle William" said John,
softly. elf you can't have 'em here,
you know you've got 'em oDer there,
an it's only waiting spell, and then
you will have 'em always"
Well, after Uncle William went
home we missed him ever so much,
and the children the most. They'd
took great fancy to him, you see.
1t was about six weeks after that,
that we got letter from him. John
read it over to me. Uncle William
wanted us to give him one Of the chill
| dren.
"What do you think about p says
John.
81 don't know" says ]. You see,
it come so sudden that l hadn't had
time to think itover. Maybe it would
be the best thing we could do. Uncle
William would do as well by 'em as
we could and they'd have good
home. And Uncle William wrote he q
give all his property to the one we let
him have, when he was through with
it, and send him or her to school, and
take as good care of it as if it was his
own.
"You don't know how lonesome il
is since I got home" he wrote. 81
keep thinking Of the children, and
want one to keep. You've got more
than you can take care OF. Iol
wouldn't miss one
Like enough we'd better let hin