The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1879-04-16

stricken down with typhoid fever, and for
| long weeks he lay balancing between life
and death. His recovery was very slow and
his confinement irksome. No prison walls
| could have been gloomier than were the
home walls that held him prisoner. Day
after day the patter of his wife's patient feet
| fell upon his ear. He could hear them up
| stairs and down, now here, now there, her
| voice always kind and tender, her hand ever
ready to minister to her dear ones, her words
full of consolation, and love. and cheer.
John Jones was not wholly uninapressible;
slowly the scales fell from his eyes, the light
came. and he was as one born into higher
and better life. He drew his bony hands
across his eyes; often the sight made him
catch hia breath suspiciously, and he mar
veled much that he had walked beside this
little woman for Ia years and not known he
was mated with IAN angel unawares" His
voice grew softer, tenderer; his great talony
hands touched her forehead and her hair
lovingly as would woman's-touched her
as though he was afraid she would fade away
into white mist.
Weeks afterwerd, when he was able to ride
out, the old whimsical buggy that had done
service in the days of his church going par
ents was made comfortable by soft wooden
blanket and an armful of sweet smelling oat
straw. John didn't tell where he was going,
but he looked wise.
1t was evening when he came home. His
cup of tea was waiting, and the tender little
pullet fried nice and brown. He seemed
really happy. He trotted the baby on his
foot that night, and called his wife Jenny"
as in the days when he won her, and he let
Johnny play horse with his boot. and there
was such contented expression on his face,
that his wife could not help wondering.
The next morning the crazy old rig was
called out again, and the soft blanket spread
in it, and John Jones took the lines in bis
emaciated hands and drove off in the same
direction as he did the day before. When he
returned he was accompanied by broad
shouldered, good looking German glrl. whom
he introduced to his wife as "our girl"
She looked with amazement upon "our
girl, then stared at John. He soon explained
things to her satisfaction.
1.-THE upshot of the matter is, Jane, that
I've abused you long enough; the Lord
helpin' me I'll never see you make drudge
of yourself ag'in. It's burnin' shame for
any great lout like me to expect a frail little
body like you to be man, and dog, and wife,
and mother, and niger. and me savi,i' and
hoardin' up money and means to leave to
the Lord knows who; I beg your pardon,
Jane. And now you'll tell this girl, Barbara
Grootz, how you want things done, and let
her take your place and work in your stead,
and you'll live hereafter like ahuman mans
wife ought tor
By the time this speech was made, the
poor weak fellow was numbering like
baby. Poor little surprised wifel She flew
to him and laid her head on his bosom, and
cried like baby as she said, John Jones,
you darlingi"
mo, not bit of darlin'; just an old
bear, a regular old heather, to sacrifice the
best little woman under the sun, inch by
inch, the way that hiss been going on for
years." shufflsd he, as he fumbled over her
face IN an aimless, loving way.
Then 'our grip Barbara, went into Jane
Jones' harness. and 1t fitted her TO frac-
ton.
Now we've turned over a new leaf, go
and dress up, Jenny, bless you ~ said the
new convert.
So Jane unearthed her wedding dress in
the afternoon, and put it on, with pretty
old fashioned collar, and brushed out her
nut-broWn hair that once upon time
curled beautifully. Perhaps she felt foolish
and girlish and out of her sphere, but looked
sweet enough to make up for all discrepan-
cies.
She sat sewing when the children came
home from school. Her back was toward
the door. Tom came to dead halt as he
stepped on the sill, and then ran around the
lean-to to find his mother. No mother was
there. but the smiling, pinky-faced German
girl who was pairing potatoes for supper.
want my mother' and cried around the
house, and peeped slyly with wet eyes.
Was that lady in a soft gray merinO dress.
wearing an embroidered collar and nice gold
ear-drops, his mother? Surely it was, for
Nettie was fondling her face and sparkling
all over and saying. rs this you, mother?
Why, where have you been?'
"Oh, ma" said Tom, holding her around
the neck as though she might fit away the
next minute, why, where did you go, and
when did you come back?'
Poor little ones, how proud they were of
the household drudge in her new and beau
tiful transformation
But this is not all. Before the first cold
blasts of winter came steps were taken to
save and tighten the labors OF the feminine
portion of the farmers household. An ad
ditiOn was built to the house, new siding
was put on and painted white. New win
dows were added, and green blinds and
spouting, and big cistern close to the
kitchen door, and a wide, long, roomy
porch. Closets were put In all the rooms,
the old bedsteads split up and used for
kindling; new chairs were bought, including
a new rocker and sewing chair for mother;
new sewing machine that was love of a
friend; the door yard was paled in, and the
calves and colts kept where they belonged;
and evergreen trees and Towering shrubbery
new yard. An easy chain pump
took the place of the moss
covered bucket that held as much as a churp.
1t was packed off to the barn to put clover
seed in, and the heavy windlass was borne
away forever from the arms that had tugged
at its ponderous weight with sick WEAKNESS
for many and many year. The big well
rope made nice swing under the oak for
Tom, Belle and chubby Harry.
Now that the no longer enslaved mother
had leisure to mingle with her growing chill
Gren as teacher, and companion, and friend,
they grow more loveable and intelligent.and
they cling to her like vines. And John
Jones-that spell of fever was the Aaron's
rod that smote the rock of the soul and
opened it for the outgushing of love and
sympathy, and charms and graces of the
human heart; and to day, broader and rud-
der, and better-there lives no happier
farmer than dear old renovated John Jones.
For Girls Only.
Suppose, young, warm-hearted girl, as you
lean on the broad shoulder in the half lit.
up parlor, thinking how nice it Is to have