Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1876-04-24

For Mary Ann, growing whittier and
winter through this flow of talk, lay
back in her chair, with livid lips and
CLASSY eyes, stunned in soul and body,
totally unable to take in the dreadful
fact that yet dinned itself in her ears
with slow, dull iteration. Dan was dead.
The old woman tried all Der simple arts
to awaken her to a sense of the situation.
"0h, woman alive, can't ye shed
tear for him an maybe him roastin' in
purgatory this blissid minnit, glory be
to God Haven't ye the wan prayer to
spake for him, an he yer ould man and
the ehildher's father ?''
A hoarse shriek burst from poor Ma
~ AIMS lips as Mrs. Herman named
the children. The world reeled all
about her. She was alone in chaos. Fa-
tigue, anguish, despair, overlook her.
She fell senseless TO the floor and the
ship fever, which had lurked in her sys-
tenn week or more, and been kept at
bay by the eager. determined soul that
kept her weak body up to its task, now
asserted itself Six weeks she lay in
Mrs. Kiernan's house, and then arose
from her bed wreck, her beauty all
gone; her great eyes dull and dark, with
look of moody despair in them almost
fierce in its rapid avoidance of other
looks; her bloom replaced by deep lines,
drawn and sallow her lips pale and set,
languidly opening over the prominent
teeth, and dropping at the corners with
listless expression that told of help
less endurance, of crushing agony. For
poor Mary Ann knew now that Dan had
been dearer to her than her children, af-
ter all and she had not even the chill
dren But it is one blessedness of pow
erty that it enforces labor even in the
widest grief. Mary Ann had not only
no money, but she was deeply in debt to
kind Mrs. Herman, and the only thing
for her to do was to go out to service at
once. She tried this in the city at
place after place, but the listless apathy
that enveloped her, the dull way in
which she did or half did her work, the
occasional fits Of irritation that some
times stung her back to life and its
needs when she was harshly reminded of
her duties, made her an unpleasant in
mate. In three months she came back
to Mrs. Kiernan.
'It's going into the country 1 am,
Judy. l want sight O. the grass, an
a smell O. the black earth. I'm weary
in meself to nothin' wild the rows Ov
houses iver an always"
"Oh, Mary Ann, is it the grass, thin,
ye're afther, as if ye wor a COW? Divil
a bit help yen get out o that, l tell ye,
the thrOuble'll go to grass, too. Have
done frettin, ye poor thing, an mebbe
the fresh air might do ye good but it's
the heavy heart makes heavy air, all the
world over, sure. An you goin' where
ye havn't frind in the wurrld to say a
good word to yez Betther stay with
me lntirely."
Poor Mary Ann turned fercely at her.
"Fret is it? Aa' if the veins ov yer
heart was dhry as the rock itself, an
yer head Durnin' behint yer eyes, and
the childher ye had iver an always in
yer arms parted from ye by the wide
say, CROWN out O. yer sight day afther
day, and the man dead foriver and iver
that KEEP the wind O. the wurrld off O.
ye, an tho't ye wor the sun a'shinin' in
the house, | suppose it isn'tye that wud
fret. Judy Kiernan Ye'd be laughin
like, an full O. joy, would ye?"
''Oh, whisht, whisht. Mary Ann
Don't be talkin' the black way ye are
Sure it's the Lords will, glory be tc
God and ye' can't help 1t, alanna."
"I'm not denyin' it's the will O God
signs on it. l don't like it no more fol
that If it wor the will O man, Ia
fight it TIL I'd have me Dan back an
me babies-oh, me babies I''
Mary Ann turned away with a low
cry terrible to hear. and old Judy wiped
her eyes with her apron.
But Mary Ann went into the country
leaving Judy under strict promise Il
forward any letters that might come fol
her. Here, indeed, her sorrow went too
but her employers had more patienc'
with her. Service was scarce, and hel
knowledge of dairy-work stood her ii
good stead. Letters came now and theI
from home, describing the children al
well and happy. There was enough no
bility in Mary AIMS nature to forbiC
her feeling one regret lest they should
forget her.
Sure it's best for thin, I" she thought
with the pure unselfshness Of mother
love. But the thoughts that Yexed be
sad soul we're so far away from her sh'
could not watch over their childish i'll
nesses. she could not soothe their sharI
child-sorrows, she could not see thei
daily growth. They would never, no
never. be her babies again. Had the,
, died, the anguish would have been NOR
brief, if keener at first, for then sh