The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1879-10-28

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He then left the house and had not been
back since. The poor thing denied all
about the blow. &
"You see" he said, "I couldn't stand
it Ipicked I up my poor wounded dove,
and then fell down myself ! heard the
curses, ! heard the hlow; and when /
saw my sweet little Mary senseess and
bleeding on the floor l felt cracking of
my heart-strings. Something, too, broke
away in nv brain. There he goes, the
cowardly beast! Shoot him! Kill
him :"
Mary heard the mad shouts Of her fa.
tber and came running into the room
with CRY like wourced hare. Sue will
not admit to this day that her husband
ever lifted his hand against her.
The poor broken-hearted gentleman,
Mary's father, died in few days ] was
with him when he died. He got his sen
ses back few moments before the death
rattle came. Mary and / we're standing
by his bedside. With quite an effort be
put Mary's hand in mine, turning bis
Glazing eyes on me. we could hear him
whisper, "Be friend to my sweet little
darling" and then he died s''3
Now you see how there could be moth
ing wrong between Mary Wiltern and
me, don't you2 o1 v. 'e8gHe ~ @ea
George Wiltern came to the house q
few davs after we had buried Aary's fa'
ther. He said he had been called off to
a distance to attend to some business,
but Mary and l knew better than that
He knew that Mary's father would have
heaten him into atoms for raising bis
hand against his daughter.
The first thing l know l will be max.
ing my story too long. will try to be
as short as can.
1t so happened that I-always a row.
ing, restless sort Of creature-came to
this country. Mary had promised to
write to me, and she did, and her letters
were as the warble Of q bird-a sad bird
though-of bird that had lost its mate
Marble is perhaps not the word-they
we're more like the cooing of the wood.
dove. She was ALWAYS writing to hel
dear dead father. She never penned 6
bard OF. harsh word about her husband
Once she thought that she VIC uld be very
happy il her father was alive, and she 9
girl again to "pat and kiss him." 5
Those were The very words, but they
we're much blurred. knew how it was
she wrote those Few words, and ther
paused while the tears dropped on them
That was what blurred them. s
But l had told friend of mine wher
l lett for This country to let me know
how things went with Mary. and through
him found out how badly George Vii
tern was acting. 1t was soon noised
abroad how i'll he was treating his wife
and the good people around began tc
sh1n him. That made him drink tbt
harder. His partner got tired of hin
and bought him out, and be gamblet
and drank away all the money he go
from his partner; and Mary gave music
lessons and was very busy making tiny
little clothes.
Then q sweet chubby, cherub came
along, and when my friend wrote me
about it sent it coral necklace with {
golden cross attached. The things were
not of much value, but did the best
could. was poor then in worldly goods
| am poor nov, but do not complain.
George Wiltern wss not at home wher
the child was horn. He had got in the
habit Of going away, and having long
spells Of drinking With bis bad compsu.
ions. - -'s-5 'Ft
You have no idea what q proud CIR
Mary was-much too proud for her owr
Would you believe it when ] tell yor
that while she and the baby we're nearly
starving she would make no complaint
and spurned everything like aid. God
only knows how she eked out living.
1t was about four months after the
child was born that she was seen in 0
neiehbor's wagon by the side of small
coffin going to the graveyard. @'
That night George came home after 9
weeks absence He was full of liquor
Mary told me all about it-but told nc
one else. He had by degrees pawned o,
sold everything Of value about the house
He wanted more money that night. He
began bv using foul language and curses
Becoming more angry be raised bis arm
to strike. 1t was then that Mary seized
a knife.
"t9eorge," and she spoke very quiet
but determined. George, you struck mt
about year age, and the blow killed my
poor, dear father. I shall kill you If you
strike me again. Go to bed and sleep of
your debsucb. buried our baby to-day
You starved the mother, YOU curdled
poor babv's milk in its mothers breast
Go to bed; we start on long journey
tomorrow Hi ~ 3
The poor woman. after burying the
child, had sold what was left of the ole
farm on which she was born.
When she came to this State aud call
ed on me, asked her how she could live
a moment with such man, end why
she did net get rid OF him by law; sht
said:
"He is my husband l promised Goo
to take him with all his faults he die
the same thing with me His father wa,
a bad man and drank hard. George i,
not 80 much to blame as You think HI
is soft, and gentle and loving when no
in liquor; and oh (! how he has tried tc
give up drinking. Why, he is The father
of my poor dead baby. killed my fa
ther by marrying George. ! owe deb
to my poor dead fatber-it is to say,
George" l2t
How the poor creature lived I do no
know. II ! offered her out of my pool
store she would get angry; and 80 tina
! should not see how straitened she Wal
and how much che suffered-I think sC
now,though ct the time I vas very mucl
hurt-she gavs me to understand tina
she did not wish me to call on her.
know I have given the true reason
About six months ago message cam,
to me from man in Jail; be wanted II
see me; no name was given went t.
the Jail, and who did see hut Geore'
Wiltern. He was in rags; his bloatet
and purple face was sad sight; he coult
hardly talk from shivering. He had beer
picked up as Q common drunkard, snt
unable to pay his fine had been sentenced
to the chain gang. I thought it yer,