The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1876-01-19
The Darkest Hour Before Day.


"It's no use, Becky, said the little
lame oobbler, dropping his head upon
his hands and looking as he felt, the
person;hcaLion of despair. i've of
Tended the Lord somehow, and be
won't let me have a chance to keep
home over our heads. l know I'm
not at all as ought to be, and I'm
punished. atit
Becky went across the room and
pntted her husband on the back.
"Now don't take on, Nick, don't"
said she. That can't be, for he knows
all; knows how good you are. Better
timesll come. They're sure to; and
YOU will be rewarded for all your pa
thence yet. The darkeat hour is just
before day."
The cobbler shook his head.
1--WE gin up hope, Becky" he said.
"What with the rent, and bill for med.
icine2 1t was like me, TO get sick just
at the worst, and no work coming in;
and the new shop with the gilt sign
tempting folks from our shabby base
ment even for the mending Of their
old shoes. I'm crushed down. Why
you are as thin and white as a ghost.
You haven't tasted meat this week,
Becky" f~t
"No more have YOU" said Becky.
But la, why there is folks think meat
unhulsome. Wegetarians, Nick, they
call 'em; where | lived out once | saw
one."
"Did they say bread was unhulsome
too ?" asked Nick. ooh, gal, 1 wish
I'd left you living out at service, rosy
and bright and happy; but | meant
to do better, | did. If | was an able
bodied man, I'd work somehow and
somewhere, but it's the last or nothing
with me. Becky, why didn't Won take
Tim Rolf, the wheelwright, and seud
the little limping cobbler about his
business ?"
81 didn't like Tim," said Becky /;
"and just knew how nice and cozy
we'd be together. Never a quarrel,
Nick. And how we used to 60 to
Hoboken and have lemonade in the
garden and come home after dark an
afternoon; and how we used to go to
church on Sunday morning in clothes
as good as any one" .
used" sighed poor Nick. t4
"Why, it can't be up hill" said
Becky. 81 haven't time to 90 out
gallanting now, but la, don't miss it.
We're steady married folks now, you
know"
ooh, Becky" said the cobbler, "you
try to keep up heart, but you know
it's come to starving" e
They looked at each other, and then
Becky put her arms about her husband
She did not weep upon his bosom she
was so big and strong, and he so frail.
that it only seemed natural to reverse
matters. She hugged him up to her
shoulders and covered his head over
with her apron, and put her cheek
down out side the bundle this made,
and soothed and patted him as If he
had been a baby But she cried, too,
and the apron was wet through in no
time.
IL was bad state of things. No
money, no food, no fire, and winter at
its coolest.
The children were sent to school
bfeakfastless, for the sake of the
warmth Of the school house. No work
to be had the little cobbler a. heln-
less as man could be, except at his
trade, and. Becky's washing stopped,
Heaven knew how long, by great
felon in the palm of her hand. But
Becky loved the queer little mortal
that she had married, so we'll that she
stopped crying first, and kissed him
between the eyes. great, frightened
| little blue eyes, that seemed made for
crying.
"You stay at home and mind the
place." she said. "Im going out
awhile. Perhaps there'll be bit Of
luck-who kLowsP"
She put on her bonnet and shawl
such thin shawl-which had been
used for an iron cloth and had an iron
shaped scorch between the shoulders
and took basket.
The cobbler looked at her.
Becky" he said hoarsely.
She knew just what he meant
"The little children, Nick" she
said eve could starve-but them
poor little critters. Nick, Il won't
seem like begging when it's for them. y
And then the door shut behind her
and poor Nick limped after her, as
though to stop her; then paused and
fairly flung himselfo the or,wishing
he were in the ground beneath it.
"God forgive the man that marries
woman to starve her." he sobbed-