The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1876-01-21
CHAPTER VI.


face to the wall, and Mrs. Morrison,
with a sheet of foolscap before her on
the family Bible, and a pen in her
fingers, clumsily made of a quill from
an eagles wing, which she nervously,
and much oftener than was necessary,
dipped into little stone bottle contain
ing very brown ink, once more essayed
to write.
MoLALLA MooRLAND, January Is, -.
My DARLING MoTHER:-I take my pen in
my feeble hand 10 ask your pardon. know
grieved you when ran away, but I repent
Will you forgive me? I have six babies-all
helpless, noisy little boys and girls-but all
are big enough 10 help themselves a little, ex-
cept the baby.
Having with great labor performed so
much, Mrs. Morrison left the bedside
and drew a stool up to the chimney
corner, and sat down to criticise the
wonderful literary production.
"Alice, how does this sound ?" she
asked, as her daughter stopped to listen
while she read aloud.
hAuh I AhOW gOl lelll q W GAg W AAleAAl
father" was the wondering response.
81 didn't, child"
"Then why do you say so ?''
"Pm writing for Mrs. Andrews.
'Then why not say it in so many
words ?''
because, you see, I'm trying to take
the responsibility to express what is in
Mrs. Andrews heart"
"Her mother will wonder how Mrs.
Andrews came to have six babies, all
helpless, and all big enough to help
themselves ercept the 6aJy,'" said AL
ice, with a sneer.
Mrs. Morrison blushed, and looked
annoyed. "You needn't ridicule my
letter writing" she said, impatientIy.
"You know amt used to it,"
'Then don't attempt it,"
"Will yOu write ?''
"NoH'
"Then will do the best can"
Retreating to her former position be-
side the invalids bed, she carefully tore
away the writing from the great coarse
sheet and began again.
MoLALLA MooRLAND, January Is, -.
My DEAR MOTHER:-I am dying but can
not bid farewell TO earth without first saying
farewell TO you.
'How can you write letter if you're
dying ?n whispered the tantalizing girl,
as she looked over her mothers shoulder.
Instead of administering the reproof
that Alice deserved for her impoliteness,
Mrs. Morrison threw aside the paper and
burst into tears. Her head and hand
were aching with the unusual mental
and physical effort she had made to
write, and the apology for pen dropped
from her tired fingers, and was lost
through crack in the floor
'What do you want, Madge ?" cried
Alice, as the elfish eyes of her sister
CLEANED through the half-open door,
into the little filled-up room.
'T came back to write Mrs. Andrews
letter. L knew you wouldn't, and
mother couldn't"
"How did you know"
"FeLt it IN my bones"
'I wish you aOould write, Madge,'
said her mother. "pve tried my very
best, and can't say anything as 1 want
it said. Alice can tear down what
write, but it seems that she can't, oI
won't build up"
"Where's your pen ?"
at fell under the floor"
To tear up the boards and find th,
quill was the perplexing work of many
minutes, and when it was found anC
Madge was ready for her work, botl
babies were awake, and each required
immediate care. This took the atten
tion of the others, and Madge turned
her face to the wall, prepared her papel
and ink, and in few moments handet
to her mother and sister the subjoinet
paragraph, written in a running hand
with is dotted and t's crossed carefully
MoLALLA MooRLAND, January Is, -.
MY DEAR MoTHER:-Do you remember
Alas, need not ask that question. Can Vol
ever forget how ungrateful your poor daughte
was, how obstinate and headstrong, when sh
left your presence TO cast her lot amoni
strangers, forever? Other hands are pennin
this, my last address. They will tell you an
dying. Mother, it is true. 7 have never bee
happy single day since the first foolish dreaI
Ofmy married life was over
"Alice, did you ever see the like c
that ?" asked Mrs. Morrison, as sh
pointed toward Madge, who sat as in
trance, her eyes wide open, her han
convulsively travelling over the papol
and her strange eyes staring at the wal
But Madge did not heed the question
and Alice and her mother could oln
gaze in wonder.
Madge went on with her writing.
once thought it was none Of your busine,
as TO ny affairs, but now I know that 1 wa
wrong. have six children, mother, dea
When am gone, will you take charge ofthem
God knows that shrink from asking the Il
vor, but I cannot help it. Jason refuses to a
low me to address you, but this letter will g
10 you, in spite of his protest. I am living-C
dying-in a far country. have found friend
who are kind to me, and Jason will see that m
poor remains are buried deeently. Do nS
grieve for me. The dark clouds around 10
bed have golden lining. I shall soon be
rest. When you get this letter, write to Mr.