The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1880-11-06
MY Little wife.

~~~~es-D A.ts>A - ASA sSAARCAt OAb elA1t W ths9
| her worst fault. When she married
Marsh Hunter people said.
| ''She'll make his life warm business
for him."
But Matte thought differently.
viii show them what triumph of
love will work. I'll teach them I'm
| not the vixen seem"
And so she married him. The wedding
was very pleasant affair-something to
look back to as long as they lived. Mat
| tie looked very sweet in her new white
Swiss. Her long, jetty curls trembled
| and shone in the brilliant light, her eyes
sparkled like twin stars, and her soft
cheeks were mantled in softer bushes as
she leaned trustingly ON the strong arm
OF the stalwart man who was to be her
| guide and guard through life
The honeymoon was rich with the
! pleasures of new married life to the
humble pair; but the time soon came
| when the bride mus. leave the old roof
tree for the untried realities of O home
of her own. This was the first sorrow-
the trial of leaving home and mother
but it was deeting, for, in the excite
ment of the 9ssetting up" housekeeping
| in the white cottage on Squire Black
burns farm, the little sorrow was
drowned.
1t was very funny, and Marsh laughed
and Matte laughed, when just they two
sat down to the little new table and ate
the viands prepared by Mattie's own
| hands.
Every thing was new and strangely
sweet. Everything went on nicely,
| and Matte was triumphant. But all
| things earthly must change The weather
grew warm and the kitchen hot, and one
| of the hottest days of the season Matte
had the headache, and the supper must
be ready at 5 o'clock. Matte tried hard
to get it ready, but burned her wrist;
then she burned the bread. Then she
looked at the clock, and saw that it had
stopped, and looked out at the door she
saw Marsh
sis supper readyr' he asked, and she
blurtered out something and they had
their, first quarrel.
Oh, dear me, the first quarrel How
sorry it made the poor little woman.
But Marsh looked sullen, and went off
without kissing her. They never talked
that quarrel over, simply because they
were both too proud to broach the sub
ject. After that qurrels came oftener
and easier. They did not mean to quar-
rel, but somehow angry words would
come up.
After awhile a little boy came to their
household, and it seemed for month or
two good deal like thewell-remembered
honeymoon, but Mattie's wretched tenn
per would fly to pieces again, and the
happiness was spoiled.
Its curious we can't get along with
out so much quarreling," said Marsh one
winter day
Matte felt the tears in her eyes in
moment, and her heart softened towards
Marsh, and she was about to confess her
failings and ask forgiveness, when he
continued:
'It's all your hateful temper, Matte
you know it is.
That was enough, and what was meant
to be reconciliation was simply another
quarrel.
ssOh, dear me; it's my wretched tenn
peri know it is, sobbed Matte; after
Marsh went out, "but he needn't have
said so.''
eff only wasn't so blunt, said Marsh
| to himself, with sigh.
| So things went from bad to worse.
Little mistakes were imagined into terri
bic wrongs.
The neighbors had their fill of gossip
about the matter, and finally one day
when Marsh was away Matte thought
| the thing over.
81 am wretched little nuisance, !"
she said mentally; 81 don't know why
am so, either, but I cannot help it," she
said, despairingly, her eyes filing with
tears. p"I've great mind to take Neddie
| and go home, and stay there. Ny shame
couldn't be any greater than it is"
She clasped the baby close in her arms,
and the tears fell fast on his curly head.
| Her heart seemed bursting within her,
but she wrapped the child in her shawl,
and with quickening pace she fed the
place and hurried across the snow
covered fields to her mothers"
Whats the matter, child p asked her
mother, as Matte, pale and shiyering,
appeared at the door.
| Don't ask me, mother" sobbed the
wretched little woman
"You amt left home ?"
Eyes, mother, forever"
"Dent say that to me. You shall go
back this instant" said her mother,
thinking of the scandal that was sure to
follow such proceeding by her misera-
BILE daughter.
"Oh, don't, motherr and Matte
looked the picture of despair.
.'Tell me about it, my child, !" said the
mother, melted into tenderness by the
look.
Then Matte, through her tears, told
her mother all, and ended with these
pitiful words:
s'But, oh, mother, do love him, the
} father of my child love him, but he
doesn't understand me. If he could but
understand mep' and she fell sobbing be.
side her mothers knee.
''Let me advise you, my child" said
the mother, softly stroking her daugh.
} ter's glossy hair. I've passed through
it all, and I'll tell you secret. There is
J almost certain to be mistakes come up
between husband and wife, and often
, words are spoken that are regretted O
moment afterward. But, my child, such
word can do no harm if repented Of
and confession made. If you have said
anything to wound your husbands feel.
, ings, no matter what he may have said tc
r you, go and tell him You are sorry, and
? know that he will not only forgive you
} but will beg you to forgive him. The
, hour that follows viii be more delightful
than the hour Of your wedding. Let me
} tell you a little instance in my own life.
+ And her mother told of one of those
: little family differences that come up be
, tween so many worthy couples. The
story ended so pleasantly that it soothed
the tempest in the breast of the heartsicl
daughter.
After the story was done Matte still
kneeled, resting her tired head on hel
, mothers knee. Her mother stroked
+ her glossy hair in silence for quarter
of an hour, but Mattie's thoughts were
, busy. Suddenly she arose, took hel
child into her arms and wrapped it Gloss
I in her shawl, she prepared to go.
t Where are You going, my child?'
asked her mother.
5 To make my confession answered
: Matte through her tears.
Heaven bless you said her mother.
: When Marsh Hunt came home tina
{ night pretty sight met his view. The
5 Are was burning brightly On the heartl
j and before it stood Matte, dressed in
: neat calico wrapper, with snowy COLA
q and cuffs, and Q scarlet bow OF ribbon
a at her throat. Baby sat on his palle
q before the fire, growing lustily, and beat
o ing the floor with tin rattle
r Supper was on the table, and the te
II was steaming on the hearth. Marsh wa
: cold but such scene warmed him, H