Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1880-12-10

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for her 70 runthe roads.
\ Which elegant harangue was simply
equivalent to Il reiteration of the pre-
viously pronounced edict After the
table was cleared. Lillian left with the
gay party Of "picknickerS' who called
for her, and Mrs. Grey, after seeing
her eff, came back to her domain with
the old weary look III her face, and
resumed her arduouS tell She had
failed to finish the weeks ironing in
the forenoon, owing 70 4 few little
hindranceS, such as the Sklmming Of a
hundred pans of milk and the washing
Of Che milk pans, the working and
packing Of Il tub of golden butter Mrs
Crews butter was excellent and
well il might he, she worked 50 much
Of her life away i'll its productionl, the
washing and dressing of the children
for school. the chamber work and
washing Of dishes for large house
hold, to say nothing ot the thousand
little triheS sandwiched between, each
with its complement OF \ dozen steps
or So. And now She resumed her
place nj the ironing table clothing the
bars in their white SpotleSS apparel.
and finishing only aS the clock pointed
to the hour of four.
| Within the next hour she must pre-
pare the five O'clock supper, ana skim
the milk that is awaiting her deNtrous
hand in the clean, cool dairy, that she
may atterward assist III the milking,
according "a her masters explicit or
ders. \ hard thing, this slavery, is it
mote The sun went down that night in
Il great bed Of roseatc pillows, tile pink
flush OVERLAPPING the heavens like Il
tinted veil. The time had been when
Miriam Grey would have watched such
i sunset with the rapturouS apprccia-
ton of sensitive, poetic soul, when
the glorcS of the panorama of Nature,
spread out before her, called up such
emotions as foond expression in many
a sweet and rhythmic idyl, which those
who read were not slow 70 appreciate,
rs belonging to a high order Of creative
and imaginative genius
Has the oldcn fire all died out within
her, that She turns away from the in
imitablc painting III full view of her
window and bushes herself in the petty
details Of her narrow kitchen, without
another glance?
She has no time To waste on such in
ddlgences. The setting Of the sun in
dicates that what remains of the day s
toll must be finished quickly, and only
the half-supprcssed sigh that wells W
from her heart tcstiiics that She is not
content to shut her eyes ON the beauty
,NN.,V
all the sweet spring landscape. And
this is only one day-one of many that
follow hard one upon the other, each
one like the rest, with its UNMARRIED, un-
yielding pressure Of toll, its Implying,
hurrying necessities, that ike a whip
of small cords, lash the victim ON in
her tagging eXertlons.
The summer camc--SummCr over
all the world, halmy and luxuriant
summer airs in nj the window; sum
mer roses in the garden; but no sum
mer came into Miriam Grcy's life.
Spring and summer have gone by
The days are much alike TO her, whcth
cr outside are blossoms or drifting
snow, since the narrow world i'll which
She lives admits Of no change Of sea.
son that hints 1T release from toll
Her task-mastcr. after the harvestS are
gathered IN, and the winter come,
clustering and wailing over the noun
tains. sits by the kitchen fire and nj
lows himself rest from his lah0rs. But
ii is not 50 with the woman who share,
his fortunes. 1t is work, work. work
/, still Over her shoulder grim CHOU
is ever looking, and urging her on viii
his hollow, pitiless eyes. She wonders
sometimes, away down i'll her heart
unseen and unheard, what there is il
coarse, unsympathetc, halfcruel man
whose name she bears, that could cvel
have awakened her love in the morn
: ing Of her happy youth.
She loves him yet--not as she loveC
him then, for love is a rare exotic; and
although it may not die at once, trans
planted into sterile soil, and expose Il
chilling winds, will one by one shed il,
quivcring leaves and dying blossoms
till only the naked, shivering stalk he
tokens its existence, which, on cXamin
alton, may still prove to hold little o
the elixir of life in its shrouded centre
Does he love her? He has not told he
so-nOt, at least for twenty years. II,
used to often, when Lillian was an in
FAINT at her breast, and the long gon,
echo is still sweet in her ears. O
course he does, though; that is under
stood, as some words are in well-con
structed sentence. But O, what {
strange, sweet thrill would go through
many n wife's breast, though She b,
either young nor handsome, anC
though her companion he plain, anc
poor, and unretined if that soft re
frain. II love you, would again gree
her ears from lips once 50 lavish ii
their protestations Of affection, y,
you men never think Of this Or
thinking, 10 they put il from them 4.
Il sentiment unworthy maturity and 4
waste Of fondness on the object under
consideration
When the leaves fell that autumn
Lillian Grey left the oldhomestead, Tho
happy bride Of man in every respect
worthy Of her love, and we'll of for this
worlds bounty. Perhaps it was the
sweetest drop in Miriam Grey, cup o.
existence when she saw her thus hap