Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1877-08-29

moan, 1 had Il presentiment ii would
be so; but may be Ill be able TO do
something this week. Can't you finish
it %yourselfs"
I've tried" sighed Chaucer; II
can't"
oh, now, I'm sure you can" said
Martha coaNingly.
Martha" replied Chaucer, solemn
ly, don't you know you used to tell
me that when we wentso school togeth-
er, you used to say, when you wrote my
compositions for me, 'Chaucer, YOU
could write them if you tried | tried
once didn't /? You remember how |
failed. The subject was Honesty |
wrote, Honesty is the best policy That
was in my copy-book. After that could
not think of another word. You always
wrote 'em for me afterwards, ell, dear?
And as for Il sermon-l have tried and
tried. could no mored do it than could
paint a great picture. It's the old folks
fault they would make me n minis
ter, when | really have a talent for
farming"
Poor old Mrs. Alwyn, standing petri-
fled behind the door, felt her hair rise
upon her head under her morning
cap.
what was pll this-a dream, a night
mare" she asked.
She pinched herself. No. She was
awake, wide awake. No sleeping wo-
man was ever so wretched.
What her son, her Chaucer, her gen
ius unable to write his sermons, and in
significant little Martha, whom she had
always thought his inferior, writing them
for him?
As in Il dream she heard her son
well, Martha, darling, I'll try to
finish up extemporaneously. | car
talk better than | can write. And don't
fret"
well, I'll try, love, for baby's sake"
said Martha. Just be brave, dear"
Then Chaucer Alwyn stepped out of
the room and old Mrs. Alwyn arose like
a very portly ghost at her daughter-in-
laws bedside.
Martha she painted, Il heard it
all. Is it true? Do you write Chaucer's
sermons for him.
1t was a terrible moment for those
two women But Martha knew that
evasion was useless.
"Yes," she said softly. Poor, dear
Chaucer i wish he had been able to do
it himself-but he was not and | was.
And tried to write enough to last until
l was well but had to give up. And
oh, won't you please go to church and
see how he manages?'
Mrs. Alwyn shook her head, %groancd,
put on her bonnet and shawl, and
hurried up the road, putting on her
gloves.
She sat in her pew, nervous, anxious,
and less tidy than usual, until hymn and
prayer were over, and she heard the ser
mon commenced.
From the first there was doubt in
Chaucer's eye, trouble in his voice. At
last he came to n sentence over which
he taltered.
my friends, | have but II more re-
mark to make feel"
1t was there that Martha's trembling
hand had dropped the pen.
81 feel" repeated the pastor, vain
" striving to feel something. Il feel
that" then he suddenly sat down
and put his handkerchief to his eyes.
The congregation looked at each
other.
Churchwarden Jones, after a pause,
went up into the pulpit and led the
young clergyman down into the vestry.
In II moment or two he announced
to the sympathizing occupants of the
pews that their pastor was 0 Ill to
proceed.
A hymn was given out and all went
home.
But many people noticed that the cler-
gyman's mother, instead of offering him
solace in his sudden atiliction, trottcd
home alone, her bonnet strings flying,
and her face very red.
OF course everybody called to inquire
how Mr.. Alwyn was, and how Mrs. AL
wyn felt.
Old Mrs. Alwyn had one answer for
them all.
AS we'll as can be expected"
No one ever learned the secret of that
breakdown.
But, though Mrs. Alwyn wrote some
more sermons and Mr.. Alwyn preached
them, it was not long before the latter
retired from the pulpit and became a
scientific and practical farmer, who
could talk well enough about grassland
and cattle, turnips and apple trees, at
the agricultural fairs.
As for Martha, she is to-day regarded
by her mother-in-law as a woman of very
superior mind.
4 TRAVELLER in Siberia last winter
writes as follows: "Our dinner party
in the evening-and it was really a din