Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1880-08-18
VOL. 75.-3853. NO. 45.


cannot imagine what use have for It, and
fear it will be wasted
"Well," snapped the proprietor, al guess
1t is my own money, and | can spend IL as |
please. / guess you'll know il, too, when
you get another present"
"Oh, 1t IS your money, then. / under
stood you to say it was all mine, and intend
ed to protest against your spending il 80
foolishly. III 1t is your own, of course you
have right TO spend it as you please, but
1t seems TO me that woman who left
parents and brothers and sisters aud all her
friends, TO make home for you among
strangers, a woman who has given her whole
life to you for fifteen years, might be looked
upon with as much favor as you give to
beggars, who are very likely 10 be imposters.
know that you seldom turn them off with
out help. Perhaps | would be more success
full If | appealed TO you as a beggar. |
might say, kind sir, please allow to me out
OF your abundant means small pittance
for my comfort. 1t is true | have enough
to eat, and do not suffer for clothing, but
although / work for my master from morn
ing till night, and if his children happen to
be sick, from night until morning again,
yet he does not pay me as much as he does
his cook, and l am often greatly distressed
for want Of tri1ing sum which he would
not mind giving to perfect stranger The
other day while he was from home, l had to
go to the next station to see dear friend
who was i'll, and not having dollar of my
own, l was obliged TO borrow the money
from his cook | was 80 mortified And
not long since the berry woman came with
such nice berries to sell, and my little girl,
who was not well, wanted some very badly,
but had not even five cents to pay for
handful for her. Yesterday q friend came
to ask me to assist in work of charity. 1t
was worthy object, and longed so much
TO give her little money for so good
purpose, but though the wife of rich man
| had no money. OF course | might ask
my husband for money, and if told him all
about what | wanted with it, and he ap.
proved OF my purpose, and was in a good
humor, he would give it to me; but, sir, it
is terribly slavish to have to do so, even if
could run to him every time | wanted any
thing, People say / am a fortunate woman
because my husband is rich, but | often
envy the factory girls their ability to earn
and spend their own money. And some
times get so wild thinking about my help
lessness that If it was not for my children |
think should just drop into the river and
end it ALL"
"Nettie Nettie Jarvis What are you
saying ?" cried the startled husband at last,
for the far away look in her eyes as if she
did not see him, but was looking to some
higher power to help her, touched his pride,
If 1T did not his heart, for he had good
deal OF pride in a selfish sort of way. He
was proud to be able to support his family
as well as he did. He was proud to think he
| did it himself. He was proud that when his
children needed new shoes he could tell his
| wife to take them to Crispin's and get what
they needed. He did it with flourish. He
was not one of the stingy kind-he liked to
spend money; and when Nettie, who was
once the most spirited young lady of his ac-
quaintance, came meekly to him for dress
or cloak, he was sometimes tempted to re-
fuse her money just to show her how help
less she was without him. Yes, he was
proud of his family, and wanted them to
feel how much they depended upon him.
he would have felt aggravated if any one
had left his wife legacy, thus allowing her
to be Independent of his purse. The idea
OF her earning money, as the other work
folks did, never entered his mind He "sup-
ported her." that was his idea of their rela-
tions He never had happened to think that
it was very good of her to take his money
and spend it for the good of himself and
his children. He never had thought that
any other woman would have wanted big
pay for doing it. He had even thought
himself very generous for allowing her
money to get things to make the family
comfortable Things began to look differ
emily to him just now. Could it be that he
was not generous, not even Just to his wife
Had he paid her SO poorly for her fifteen
years of faithful labor for him that if she
had been obliged to begin the world for her.
self that day, it would have been as PEN
niless woman, Notwithstanding the houses,
the lands and mills that he had so often told
her were all hers for he knew, as every one
else did, that not one dollar of all he had
would the law allow her to call her own.
How fast he thought, standing there at
the Office window looking down at the little
houses where the mill hands lived. Could
it be possible that his wife envisd them any
thing? Could it be that he was not as good
a man as he thought ? He had felt deeply
the wrongs of the slaves, whose labors had
been appropriated by their masters, and
when negro who had worked twenty years
for his master before the emancipation freed
him, came to Jarvis mills, friendless and
penniless, the heart of the proprietor swelled
with indignation at such injustice. He was
eloquent on the subject, at home and abroad,
1
aud selfish as to commit such an outrage
against justice. He had called him rob-
Der many time, but now Donald Jarvis
looked to himself very much like the old
slave holders Massa Brown had taken
the proceeds of Cuffee's labor for his own
without even thank you" for it. True,
when Cuffee ate he had given him food,
when he was sick he had given him medi.
cine, and he had clothed him, too, Just as he
himself thought best. Mr.. Jarvis had mar
ried loving, conscientious woman, and for
fifteen years had appropriated her labors.
Her recompense had been food and clothes,
such as he thought best for her. A little bet
ter than Cuffee's, perhaps but the similarity
of the cases did not please him. He had
expected his wife to be very grateful for
what he had done for her, but now he won
dered that she had not rebelled long ago.
Had his life been mistake Had his wife
no more money or liberty than Cuffee had
in bondage? Was Donald Jarvis no better
than Massa Brown
His brain seemed to be in a muddle, and
he looked so strangely that his wife, anxious
to break the spell, took his arm, saying " Let
us go home, dear, tea must be waiting for
u.s." He took off his hat in dreamy way
and they walked home in silence. The chill
| uich iah y'yOu'i1 W moct uc ydTu
was so fresh and green, and the flowers so
many and bright that he wondered he had
never thanked Nettie for them all. Hth-
erto he had looked upon them as his, but
now, he felt that his interest in them was
only few dollars, that would not have
amounted to anything without his wife's
care. His children were tidy and sweet,
and everything around and in the house
had that CHEEKY look that rested i'm so after
the hard, dull day at the mill. They sat
again at the table, which had been a source
of comfort and pleasure to him so many
years, aud he wondered how he could have
enjoyed it so long without even thanking
the woman who had provided it. True, she
had used his money in bringing it all about,
but how else could his money be of use to
him Who else could have turned it into
just what he needed day after day for years I?
And he began to have an underlined feeling
that 1t took more than money to make a
home. He glanced at his wite's face as he
buttered his last slice of bread.
II was not that of fair, rosy bride whom
he had brought to the mills years before,
but at that moment he realized that it was
far dearer to him, for he knew that she had
given the bloom and freshness of her youth
TO make his home what il was.
And new thought came to him. "Who
was comforting her now when she had so
much care Z" Was that not what he prom
| ised to do when he brought her from her old