The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1877-11-08

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What a good, careful girl" said
Janas, caressing her black hair, as she
came and sat on low stool beside him
eyes, have been careful-it is my
nature to be careful" said Sara. "Few
rich mems wives would have done SO
much. Now, look at these things, my
dear"
Jonas looked. There came a time
afterward when it seemed to him that
the faded tint of the shawl, its dingy
palmleaves of yellOw-brown, and the
wilted flowers and shabby ribbon of
the bonnet had been scared into his
brain. He looked at them long and
lingeringly. He knew that his wife
was reasonable, and that the things
were, and long had been, unfit for her
to wear. But his money tugged at his
heart strings
"SuppOse you wear this just one
winter more! !" he said-"just one"
"The shawl is very thin," she said.
81 shall catch cold again, as | did last
winter"
"POor girl" he said softly, and
looked toward the desk where his check
book lay. But the grip of the fiend
that rules miser's soul nipped him
sorely as he did so.
"rhey wear sacques great deal,
I
Sara, don't they? ?" he said.
"Oh they are very fashionable" i" re-
piled his wife.
"Ther couldn't you make one out of
that old billiard-clOth that is in the
trunk-roOm?" he said. My poor mother
bought it at auction. She meant to use
it for a cOverlet. It's a very pretty
green. Don't you think so, Sara? And
such nice material :"
There is limit to wOman's patience.
This suggestion measured Sara's. She
started to her feet, and, gathering up
her bonnet and shawl, walked out of
the room. After she had gone, Jonas
really looked at his check-book. For
at least two minutes he' contemplated
drawing large check, and telling his
wife he had been teasing her. But he
could not bring himself to do it.
After while his wife looked into
the room with her old bonnet and her
old shawl about her shoulders, and
said
"Jonas am going to spend the day
with my sister-in-law; but | shall be
home before dinner-hme."
81 hope you will enjoy yourself, my
dear!" said Jonas. He saw her eyes
were heavy with weeping, and he
looked away ashamed of himself,
Tken he betook himself to his Office
where he ground out his money, and
during the day he compromised with
himself. He would do no eXtravagant
thing; but when he went home he
would give his wife what was neces-
sary. After all, as he said to himselfit
would have been better to do it. He
had grieved her, and she was the only
thing he loved on earth.
He went home earlier than usual that
evening, to make what amends his soul
would consent to; and as he walked
briskly along, being light upon his feet
yet-for who ever heard of miser
growing fat?-he thought he would
never again bring tears to those good
kind eyes.--Never, never again; and
then-What was that crowd? People
were coming that way, looking back
ward as they came. Men, boys, women
little children-all the riff'ratf that acci-
dent, or quarrel, or an arrest, will col
lect in the city of New York. And now
he was in the midst of the throng, and
close to four policemen, who, with set
faces, marched in time, bearing be-
tween them stretcher on which lay
human form. 1t was cOvered-cOvered
with shawl. Jonas looked. Oh,
Heaven he knew the pattern of that
shawl. Only a few hours before its
dingy palm leaves of yellow-brown, its
faded fringe, its shabby brown centre,
had been spread out before him. 1t was
his wife's shawl!
"Stop! stop! stopw he cried. "Let
me see her let me see her ~
"Do you know herr" asked police
man.
"Let me see her facet" said Jones,
growing so faint that kindly man
hard by supported him by the arm.
"You'd not know her face. A tele-
graph pole fell on her. Its crushed all
out of shape, ~ said the policeman. "But
shawls are alike. Keep up your cOur-
age. do not think this is any relation
of yours. She's too shabby. Look at
her shoes. See! this is her bonnet.
You don't know that?"
He held up bonnet. 1t was crushed
and soaked with blood; but Jonas knew
it; the strcaked ribbon, and flower
among the other flowers had lost its
petals. He had fingered it as it lay on
the table beside him.
eyes, l know it !" he cried. It's Sara.
It's my wife,"
Then he pulled away the shawl from
the crushed face, and tainted outright.
Just as his senses left him he heard
some one say:
ellis wifeS Why, / thought she was
a beggarw
And another answered "Like enough |
they call him miser. | know him.
His name is Jonas Pray"
They carried the poor woman home
to Jonas Pray's old house--helping him
TO follow as he became himself. She |