The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-04-28
SEEING BETTER DAYS.

The widow Minton had seen better
days. How far back wasn't exactly
certified but she had seen them. Bet
ter days hung modify about her, like
the defaced shreds of antquated en-
broidery.
The sturdy gossips of the seaside vii
laee, who went about with their skirts
tucked up and their bare brown arms
ready and able for any work, looked
askance at the widow Minton, with her
pitifuI meagerness of aspect, her flicker
ing black eyes, dher trailing old gown.
They nudged each other, and said,
Better days-Lord save us I"
But the widow did not trouble the
neighbors much, nor they her. A body
who couldn't do heartsome hands
stirring was best left alone to her
brooding, and the widows smoky little
cabin. solitary apart on the seashore,
was left pretty much to herself and her
boy Tom.
Tom was sturdy, brown-fa faced lad,
who picked up living by doing odd
jobs for the boatmen, and now and then
taking day for fishing. Tom had
probably never seen better days. The
widow shook her head overs him-so
stupidity content, poor Tom so beaming
and good-natured over beggarliness and
hopelessness. A tall, welEgrown fellow,
with bare feet, torn straw hat, and a
red shirt. Tom took the world easily,
looking with reverent eyes ON his moth
ers by-gone gentility, and by no means
seeming to covet it for himself.
The widow deemed it due to her past
responsibility to be seen at church of a
Sunday evening, and you could see the
two walking at twilight along the sands
together, she with her clean pocket
handkerchief folded over her old hymn
book and O certain doubtful hesitancy of
gait, as if heaven itself might be looking
down critically on her shabby black
gown and rusty bonnet. AS for Tom,
patient Tom, he went plodding slowly
after her, with his smiling face whistling
as he went. Always patient, always
plOdding, poor Tom Patiently falling
asleep during the sermon, and patiently
listening, open-mouthed, to the closing
hymn, his careless, bright face, contrast.
ing SO oddly with his mothers auerulous
and tear-wOrn visage, won for him the
sobriquet of widow Mintons rainbow.
The minister of the parish, mistaken
soul, deemed it incumbent to make a
call on the widow; and, on charity bent.
1T IL eatd he unwarily offered to employ
her SCI vices In his household for q sea
son. He deemed it his duty to rouse
the old woman to activity.
He did rouse her; and it is averred
that he never found time to call at the
cabin again. Did he take her for a com
mon household drudge, or a low-born
field hands She thanked God she had
too much spirit left yet to put herself
under anybody's feet. He hadn't far to
go to find scores of drudges and diggers,
bat he might go further before he knew
a lady when he saw her.
1t might have been the afternoon after
tine good mans visit that the widow sat
idly brooding at her cabin door. Hei
eyes had wandering, PARKWAY look,
and her face was keener and thinner
than ever. Beyond the bluff which
sheltered her cabin stretched fair line
of seecoast, the white sand cleaning sill
very in the sun. Far off q group OF
bathers, IN bright dresses, frolicked be
tween shore and water. They came
from the great hotel down beyond she
could almost catch the sound of then
voices as she sat slowly rocking III hel
doorway. 1t was quiet afternoon
the cir WIS soft and soothing. and the
widows heart, so full of bitterness, felt
itself sweeten and soften in the stiffness
This part of the shore, sheltered by it's
overhanging rock, was eldom disturbed
10y intruders, but presently the watch
~er,s eye caught sight OF young cir
spiasbing and frolicking in the water
Oh 10 Ia
sight, the rounded arms, the curvine
shoulders, the swaying, floating figure
And perhaps the old woman recalled
with sigh the time when she was young
and blitbe too, aid had as CHEEKY
voice as that with which tho fair swim
mer hailed bet companions N the dis
lance.
Gazing absen0y on the silent scene
revcrie feh upon her, and when sh,
looked again, the young water-nympl
had disappeared She bad probably
swan ashore behind the rocks. The
widow turned away, Rugged her thin
shawl over her shoulders, and thought
that the sen wind was chilly. Hark
what was that Surely abe heard a cry.
No merry shout OF ringing laugh this
1T might be the cry of a wild bird on its
way 10 its mate.
She couldn't have gone beyond hei
deptn, that young creature, surely
But, h. what of it if she had9 Dying
young, body gets quit Of a deal OF
trouble. And-yes, surely, That vas o
scream. The widow looked sharply out.
Would Tom never Gomez The tide was
rising, and-and something certainly
was the matter. She called-she beck
oned frantically to the bathers beyond
they seemed both blind and deaf.
No one, not one soul, at hand, and that
young thing in peril Of life A minute
she stood still, hstening-a feeble old
woman with haggard, scared face, tc