Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1876-01-12

"Shall tell you 2"
Certainly. | am anxious 10 know"
"You have worked her nearly 10 DEATH"
| "fou are speaking Of my wife, not OF my
horse"
Granted, and say again, you are work.
ing her to death"
Really, doctor, such language is unpar-
donable."
"And yet you will pardon t. Aud fur
thermore, by your great love for the self
sacrificing woman we have just left, shall
perform an operation on your eyes, that you
may sec even as I see"
Aud then, in his own peculiar, abrupt
manner, he placed the cold, hard facts before
him, from the time she came, bride, beauti.
ful and accomplished, to the village, up 10
/ the date Of her present illness, in which do
/ nestle cares only haunted her feverish
dreams. In concluding, be added; al truly
believe, il she, takes up her old burden at
once, that before year has passed the grave
or insane asylum will receive her.
| The strong man shuddered. " As heaven
is my witness, sir, | have only permitted,
not exacted this sacrifice She voluntarily
took her place by my side, and has Uncom-
plainirgly keIt step with ME-
No slia hiss not kgt pferi 20 follow
d ar own figure, Unable 70 keep up with
Fot r icnkf ttliu t-flttct. snt uaa laiicis Ialnt
and footsore by the way. And now you
have but to go back, and take her in your
strong arms and carry her awhile. | tell
you she must have rest for both mind and
body, or | will not answer for the result.
And it would be better If found away from
here"
"Yes begin to comprehend and it can
bo found away. And,' offering his hand,
" will take care, Doctor, that you do not
| get chance to administer another such dose
| to me-"
Then see that You do not need it," said
| he, dryly, as he mounted on his horse and
rode away.
Mr.. Streeter went back TO the room where
his wife was sitting propped up in pillows,
and gush of unutterable tenderness swelled
in his heart as he glanced at her pale face
aud almost transparent hands. lie sat down
beside her and said softly; you don't
know how glad am that you are better"
" Thank you. Yes, am almost well now
shall soon be able to be in the kitchen. |
am sure must be sadly needed there by this
time
"No, you are needed here. BY the way,
would you like to have me put the farm to
rent this summer, and you take the boy and
60 back to the old granite hills 2"
"Oh, could you2 May / go 2" and the
voice quivered with excitement; then, wist-
fully " But the expense, Newton. 1t would
put us back so much"
ayes, there it is; the old doctor was
rightw he thought. And then aloud -
ado you know what went to the city for
the day you were ill2
"ro deposit some money for more land
think you said" she replied, YEARLY.
." Yes; | do not need that land. / have far
more than | can cultivate now. And you
shall have that monsy-or, at least, all that
you want of it--and go home and stay this
summer, and try to get some of your bloom
back !"
"And you ?"
"Never fear for me- Only hurry aud get
well enough TO travel, and will either go
with you, or place you in tho hands Of kind
friends, and you shall be sheltered in the old
home-nest this summer. ! shall write to-day
that you are coming"
J Mrs. Streeter could hardly believe it was
not one Of her fevsrish dreams.
, But it all came about in good time, and
, she arrived safely at home, where she was
! petted, caressed and cared for to her hearts
content.
/ You are all trying TO spoil me-" she would
expostulate " | shall never be fit for q
: farmers wife any more"
4 And why not, pray ?" asked younger
{ sister, as she tangled spray of apple blooms
! among her curls.
There, il you ever put your hair up in
: that ugly knot you wore when you came
home, farmers wife, or Presidents wife, III
III"
Pinch the baby" suggested Fred.
: No, he shall never suffer for the sins OF
7 his parents" and she ran off with the house
| hold pet. as was her wont, to relieve the
l mother of all care.
) And thus, among loving friends, riding
walking, aud, when at home, reading, music
e and writing long letters TO her husband, tn,
summer passed swiftly away.
= And now he had written that he was com
/ ing, and she was counting the days that must
a elapse ere she could look upon his face and
i be clasped to his heart. She was eager ID
t 20 now. Her holiday was over. Health had
I returned and not for an instant did sh,
, shrink from the old life.
And when the husband came and saw til,
n wonder one summer had wrought, he agair
a told himself that the good doctor was right.
= \ few days were given to the old friends
h Judge Streeter had recovered his equipois'
4 in the financial world-and then they turnec
!, their faces toward their western home.
It was evening when they arrived. AM
t, the wife looked with woeful bewilderment oil
y the change. 1t was not her home, and yet
should be. A handsome front had been adde'
y 10 the old building aud before she had tim
is to question, she was ushered into parlor-
e parlor newly furnished and already lighted
II An elegant piano stood in a recess evidentl
constructed for its reception, and on 1t lay
II card with the initials Of Judge Streeter, an'
/ the words, 40 my daughter
d She turned toward her husband to assur
h. herself that no, too, had not changed int
:. something or somebody else. But the merr
d twinkling in his eye told her that he was er
is joying her surprise, and slowly she began I
|, realize the whole situation. Yes now sh
is understood his strange reluctance TO mer
1t ton what he was doing, and his willingness
to have her remain, even after she expresss
N her anxiety to return.
j. "Come, | have more to show you" and h
of showed her into large commodious room
le furnished for her own sleeping apartment
Or even TO her baby's crib.
le "This is for YOU. Aud now lay asid
your dusty garments and prepare for tea.
Y must have been ready an hour ago. wi
as go and see"
O, When he returned he found his wife 81
c. ting in her little rocker, and weeping slsntl,
Have | wounded where wished
n heal Z" he asked, reproachfully.
e. Forgive me, she said, smiling; " ai
n, goose, but tired-winged one, you know
Is, Aud am so happy to be at home, and
such home, that have no words in whic
Il. TO tell my happiness"
lie stopped to kiss the proffered lips, an
e, then went out, leaving her to prepare for II
id evening meal.
We At the table she found a neat, tidy CIR
who took charge of the child. And thu
he the new life began. And what ditferer
be life it was-busy, not burdened Time fo
n the wants of the mind as well as the bod,
I'll Good hep in the kitchen all the time
he sewing-inaehine in the sitting-room; plan
I'd in the parlor, and choice reading for an
20 leisure hour.
ne The farm was AN unfailing source of il
ID come, fully defraying all expenses each yea
and showing balance in favor.
IS Been improving, see" said Dr. Meeke
as he reined his light carriage up TO the nea
es fence behind which Mr., Streeter was prepa
sr ing bed of tumps.
Vi " Yes, doctor. Come in"
Is Professionally or socially 7"
er Socially. | want To show you all the in
he provements. Here, Mary, the doctor want
lg to see you 7"
As she came to greet him, rosy with healt
I'd and happiness, he nodded his head at hi
re husband. "Yes, that will do" and the
al Al 4