The Weston Democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1875-current, 1876-05-08
THE WIDOW IN THE L.

1t had been Mrs. Buttcrkin's doings,
letting the L.. Mr.. Butterkin had Oh.
iected to the proceeding, but mildly. as
was becoming in tho good humored
husband OF a whimmy" wife, so prone
to tears that there seemed some foanda-
tion for her pet apprehension that her
"blood was turning to water" Griev-
ously tormented by nerves, she longed
for womauly sympathy, and on Mr..
Ebbesou's decease, nothing would do
but his widow should sell her farm and
occupy tho Butterkin l.; for had not
Ruth md she been dear friends from
girlhooi ! After due dcliberation; Mrs.
Ebbeson came, having first secured q
life lease Of tho building.
A busy little woman was Ruth Ebbe-
son, as she had need to be, her iutem.
perate, worthless husband having left
her barely enough to make both ends
meet. II she would lap them comfort
ably, it lpnst DO by her own exertions
with the needle. And as she sat cheerily
stitching by her invalid mothers couch,
Mrs. Butterlsin would often run III with
beans to pick over or apples to pare,
while on rainy days, obedient to his
wiie's suggestions, Mr.. Butterkin did
many neighborly turn in way Of car.
peuIry. The two families were almost
rs one. Indeed, tho letting Of the L
seemed n providont arrangement for all
parties. II was relief 10 Mrs. Ebbeson
to be rid OF her farm; it was well that
h'r mother should be within easy access
OF n physician. Especially was it Of ad.
vantage to Mrs. Butterkin to enjoy
cheerful companionship, and whatever
was OF advantage to Mrs. Butterkin nee
esSarily affected Mr.. Blt:erkin.
Thus years glided on, bringing mental
vigor to the nervo.diseased Mrs. Butter
kin. She had never seemed in better
health than iu that fatal spring when shO
was prostrated by pneumonia, death,
stricken from the first.
"The Lord wills it, Ruth, and
don't feel to murmur," she whispered,
with dying grace; "but husband'n miss
me, I know. You'll keep an eye on him,
won't you, dear, when I am gone, and
make him comfortable 7"
Mrs. Ebbeson sobbed promise; but
after Mr.. Butterkin's bereavement she
found the covenant embarrassing, for in
this sublunary world Of ours q widow
WHO "keeps her eye" on widower
challenges unpleasant comment, and Lit.
tie Mrs. Ebbeson deprecated the speech
Of people. Consequently, though she
conscientiously ministered to Mr.. But
terkins comfort, it was iu unobtrusive
ways not suspected by him, and hardly
realized by tho niece who kept his house.
The door between tho two sitting.rooms
no longer, as formerly, stood invitingly
ajar, but was hasped upon the widows
side. She never passed through it now,
save iii the gentleman's absence, when
she occasionally assisted the inexperi-
cnced Esther in compounding his TO-
vorite dishes. or surreptitiously pos
sessed herself Of his fine mending.
With his wifc's demise the old free'and-
easy life had ended. They were two
distinct households, growing further and
further apart, MS the weed upon the
widower's hat waxed rusty beneath nc.
cumulated months Of mourning. It
could scarcely havo been otherwise.
The closed door was but symbolof the
barrier which, in tho very nature Of
things, must exist between the bereaved
Mr.. Butterkin and the similarly bereaved
Mrs. Ebbeson. When q right.hand
glove haslost its mate, and left has
met with n like calamity, one naturally
desires to fit tho remaining two together,
il haply they may make pair, and the
widow shrunk sensitively at the thought
OF the neighbors thus mentally match
ing herself and Mr.. Butterkin. As far
as in her lay she tried to mako it up
parent to them that the twain were two
odd ones, which could by no possibility
be mated,
But not so the gentleman in question.
That people should gossip ncrer entered
his head. II in Roxanna's lifetime, TO
please her, he had done her dear Ruth
frequent neighborly iavors, all the more
would he do them now TINT Rcxanna lay
cold in death. And as day after day
went by, and he felt more and more
closely drawn to the cheerful, bright.
eyed widow, tho simple man believed
this was solely for his departed wtfe's
sake. She had been dead d year and o
day, when Mrs. Ebbeson whisked out
upon the doorstep one warm July morn
ing to shake the tabiecloth.
"Oh, my starsl" calculated she, look
lug not into tho armament, but strighI
earthward at her hens darting hither ani
yon for the breakfast crumbs. In th'
midst Of The flock bristled two Brahm4s
with sullen eyes and feathers on end
cluckling for chickens that were not.
Anything wrong, Mrs. Ebbesoni'
NIr. Butterkin paused OIL his way from
the barn with the milk.
"0nly these Brahmas, Mr.. Bntterkin
I've broken them mp. ma broken then
up, but they will set" Mrs. Ebbeso
had been reared in rural part OF Me-
England where hens never "sit.")
"Well, why not let 'em !"
In Julyi Now, Mr.. Butterkin "
"Then supposing you tied red yal
A. n