The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1880-12-30
PATIENT MERCY JONES.

PATIENT MERCY JONES.
"Let us venerate the bones
Who is:faa les undefncsiS SfIss iHa these stone.-
This is her story as once told to me
BY him who still loved her, as all men might
Darius, her husband. his age seventy years,
A man of few words, but, for her, many tears:
Darius and Mercy were born in Vermont
Both children were christened at baptismal
In the very same place. on the very same
(Not much acquainted just then, dare say).
the minister the oaoes a1d ssd,
And be the parson to join them together,
For veal or for woe, through all sorts OF
weather.
Never put both their heads il. the same loving
They were poor. they worked hard, but moth
The patience Of Mercy, or cloud her bright
She was clothed with Content as beautiful
She had griefs-who has no, on this changeable
But at such times she seemed like the sister of
job
She was patient with dogmas, where light
She was patient with people who trod on her
She was patient with folks who said blue skies
And dentists and oxen that pulled the wrong
She was patient with phrases no husband
She was patient with cream that declined to
She was rs patient patient with buyers with nothing to
She was patient with takers with nothing to
She was patient with millers whose trade was
to cozen,
And grocers who counted out ten to the
She was patient with bungiers and fault-and-
And tall, awkward lads who came oourting
She was patient with crockery no art could
mend,
And chimneys that smoked every day the
She was patient with reapers who never would
And long-winied callers who never would go:
She was patient with relatives when, unin-
vited,
They came, and devoured, then complained
they were sighted;
She was patient with crows that got into the
And other dark deeds out of wantonness
She was patient with lightning that burned up
She was patient with poultry unwilling to lay:
Sne was patient with rogues who drank cider
She was patient with sermons that lasted too
long;
She was patient with boots that tracked up
She was patient with peddlers and other
smooth bores:
She was patient with children who disobeyed
rules,
And. to crown all the rest, she was patient
with fools
The neighboring husbands all envied the lot
OF Darius. and wickedly got up plot
To bring o er his sunshine an unpleasant spot.
But Ge Know w of something her smiles will
abate.
When she gets out of wood, and for more is
inclined,
Just send home the erookodest lot you can
Let IS pick it out. let us go and chooscit,
And wen bet you farm, when she comes for
Her temper will crack like Nathan Dow's
cDrnet,
And she'll be as mad as an elderly hornet"
Darius was piqued. and he said with a rum,
I'll pay for the wood il p'Gu send ii hum:
But depend on IL neighbors, no danger will
come.
Home came the gnarled roots, and crookeder
Never entered the gate of a Christian abode.
A ram's horn was straighter than any stick
1t seemed to be wriggling about every
minute;
1t would NOT stand up and it would not lie
IL twiss ed the vision of dne-halr The town.
To loss AT such fuel was really "a SIN,
For the chance was stribisinus would sure y
set IN.
Darius said nothing TO Mercy about il:
Ii trds crooked wood-cvcn she could not
doubt IL:
But never a harsh word escaped her sweet
lips,
Any more than IL the old snags were smooth
chips
She boiled with them bsked with them,
waS ed vii thrptiuh
The long winter months, and none ever knew
But tle wood was us straight as Mehitable
Drew.
Who was straight as a die, or a gun, or an
And who made il her business all male hearts
TO harrow.
When the pile was burned up, and they Deeded
Sure, now," mused Darius, 4" shat catch il
good:
she has kept her remarks all condensed fol-
the spring,
And my ears for the trick now deserve well
to sing.
She mover did scold me, but now she will pout
And say with such wood she is nearly worn
OUT
But Mercy, unrufled, was calm, like the
That reflects back at evening the sun perfec,
And she looke1 at Darius. and lovingly smiled
As she made this request, with temper un
riled:
ave are wanting more fuel am sorry t
say:
| burn great deal too much every day,
And mean to use less thou 4 haye in the
past:
| But get, if you can. dear. a load like the last
never had wood that liked half so we'll
Do see who has nice crooked fuel to sell:
| There's nothing that's better than wood full
| of knots,
1t fays so complete round the kettles ant
| pots,
| And washing and cooking are really like pla,
When the sticks nestle close ia so charming
| way"
-Jdmes 7. Fields IN Harpers Magazine.