The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1878-01-18

and I can't live with my other children"
"You can go to Gus. He'll take care
Of you"
"But I don't want to hamper him.
He's a rising man."
"But what if should prove a rising
woman?"
"Women are not expected to rise. It
isn't their sphere. They are protected
and supported by men,"
ayes; that is, if they're prostitutes, or
happen to be the wives or concubines Of
rich men, or men in public positions,
who are compelled to make a display Of
their private property. But who pro-
tects and supports nc, for instance, and
ten thousand others like me?"
"Isupport you"
81 have been showing you how you
did it. You support me, just as the
master once supported the slave, by my
own labor. And now you crown your
philanthropy by carrying out still fur
ther your programme of protection by
selling my children out Of my sight"
81 didn't look at it in that way, Mar
tha."
"But it is that way, as you now dis
cover. But give you warning; pll go
if my children do"
"But you can't follow them to Mon
tana."
"Pn not follow them, sir. Pn go
along"
ado you forget your poor father?"
"Would to heaven I could"
The Major gave vent to one Of the or
thodox groans he usually reserved for
Sundays. He must have been sorely
troubled.
"Help me to bed, ;" he said, pleadingly.
"The Lord only knows what is to be-
come Of me If you forsake me-"
''You'd better try little Of the trust
in Providence that you exhort others to
experiment with, and see how it
works." she replied, bitterly.
But she took the lamp, leaving the
children, who had sat in dumb terror
during the heat of the discussion, in
semi-darkness, and leading the way, as
sisted her infirm supporter to disrobe,
after which she tucked him comfortably
away and returned to her little ones,
two Of whom were asleep on the floor.
\ mammoth washing-tub was soon half
filed with tepid, soapy water, in which
the children were scrubbed by turns,
and when the last one had been awak-
ened and taken through the cleansing
process, and the four, arrayed in snowy
gowns, knelt beside the mother for their
evening prayer, aud she felt that her
last Saturday night with them had
come, a CLEAN like insanity shot across
her eyes, and she raised the carving
knife for an instant, as if to end their
existence.
"What do you mean, mamma ~
The voice and look Of Kingston
Greeusborcugh that appealed to her in
the upturned face Of her eldest born,
who, having no thought Of fear, re-
garded the great cleaning knife with
wondering eyes, while her long blonde
hair fell in damp clusters around her
well-formed shoulders, was all that
saved the children, was all that saved
the mother
go, my Godr she walled, as, clasp
ing each dependent one in her quivering
arms, and holding them in a close en-
brace, she wept in more than mortal
agony.
Don't cry, mamma; the angels will
take care Of us. God will send 'em.
He always does" said the child, upon
whose features the young and disap-
pointed mothers imagination had un-
consciously enstamped the likeness Of
her SOULS counterpart.
go, my darlings, had only you, and
you are now to be taken away! God is
not just, else he would not permit it."
'It isn't Gods fault, mamma; and
he'll help you out of trouble sometime.
I know he will. There's an angel, only
she hasn't any wings, who watches over
US. can see her now"
As the child spoke, her face grew ra-
diant, and her manner was that Of ex-
treme ecstasy.
BE good dear mamma, and keep
your temper smooth so the pretty angel
can come. She always hides in a cloud
when 1 get cross. But when I'm good,
and watch over my little sisters, and do
just what know to be right, her face
lights up with smiles, and her clothes
get white and shining like the sun. !
don't mind going away, mamma, for
papa will be sorry, and he'll give Us
back to you. God tells the angel not to
let US come TO harm"
80, my precious pet Why am I to
be separated from you? Wasn't my
cup full enough before ?' walled the
poor mother, in the depths Of an agony
that was pitiable. 'They could take
my labor, my love, my property, my
home, and 1 could bear it, but now 1
will curse God and die"
"But why curse God, mamma? I
tell you he is good"
Martha Marblehead could not refute
the simple logic of her child. Once she
had believed just like her, she thought,
but that was long ago, before such trials
came. Some day, and she shuddered at
the thought, some cruel fate might lead
Der own darlings along life's blistering
highways, bruising their feet and tear
ing their hearts and hands with the re-
morseless rigor Of the human law.