Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1880-03-20

neI gIedt disappointment VerSnad0Wed
it all.
She could think of nothing but the
great barn-like house, painted glaring
red, with its large shutterless windows,
like lidless eyes staring out upon the
dust highway. Inside, it was equally as
barren of grace or beauty; the walls
were dingy, and unadOrned by pictures
of any kind; the furniture was guiltless
The air was full of happy sounds; the
of paint or varnish; with no works of
literature worthy of mention beside the
weekly paper. the Bible, and an almanac.
Tn this atmosphere she must live;
here she must hencefOrth work on, while
mind and soul starved; here, too, she
must rear her children, to see worth and
beauty i'm nothing that can not be repre-
sented by gold. What wonder, then,
if her thoughts and eyes wandered,
over the fields of waving grain, to where
stately stone house stood on an emil
nence. She knew there was beauty
there, breezes stole into large, airy
rooms, through lace curtains; there were
rich carpets and furniture, and library
that was almost an intellectual feast to
look at; outside there were pleasant
walks and drives, and fiOwer-garden
filled with the rarest floral treasures;
and then she sighed softly, as she
thought to herself@"But love would not
have been there, and life would have
been of very little worth without that"
Jennie, Jennie! Oh, here you are"
and Mr.. Graham came out from the back
kitchen door, and seated himself upon
the edge of huge log that had been
hovryr ont nd did INF for 90 acdPap n nd
cistern. 1t was not unusual for him to
seek her, he always did when he came
in and found her not in the house. 1t
was not bad habit in the man. his
very life seemed bound up in her; and
although he had the reputation among
his neighbOrs of being "clOse" in his
business transactions, he was kind
hearted and generous, too, in his way.
This morning he had something Of i'm
pOrtance to communicate.
81 didn't tell you last evening" he said,
"that had already had some talk with
SOuthwell about that land. He wouldn't
listen to cent under $1,000 then. and
/ wouldn't offer more than $500. He
came over to see me this morning, and
offered to split the difference. Amt
that a bargain, though? A little better
than spending money for paint or paper,
Jennie? Oh" rising to go, Il came near
forgetting to tell you. Powers is here.
He wants to hire out during harvest. 1
have hands enough, but / suppose the
more help have, the better 1 shall get
along; so told him to 60 right to work.
l don't suppose he has been to breakfast
yet, his folks are so slack, so you must
set out bit for him to eat. Try and
have the lunch ready by half-past nine;
you can blow the horn, and will send
one of the men down for it,"
Poor Jennie! 1t was like the straw
that broke the camePs back. She strug-
gled hard, but the tears would come.
Mr.. Graham turned back and came in
stantly to her side, when he saw that she
was in trouble.
"What is the matter, dear?" he asked
cOmpassiOnately, while his large, kind
hand glided down her hair with soft
caressing touch. "If you are not feeling
well, will slip down and get Miranda
Powers to come out and help you. Iguess
I'd better anyway, hadn't II"
Mrs. Graham mastered her emotion
with an effort.
.Oh, no." she said. There isn't any
thing"
Mr.. Graham hesitated; he was not salts
fed with this explanation.
"Therep she said. "NOw do go along
to your work, or shall cry again. and
indeed she looked as if she might.
Hiram Graham had faint idea as to
what the matter was, and was very will
ing to do as she babe him. He felt con-
siderably annoyed that his wife could
not see the advantage of the proposed
purchase that would materially add to
their mutual property. And then he be-
gan to wonder what she was thinking
so silently about while she stood looking
off toward the distant hill. A little jeal-
OuSly crept in with the thought. The
owner of that fine mansion had once
been formidable rival of his. There
could have been no reason for her choice
but the one she so shyly confessed to him
in the soft twilight of summer even
ing ten years ago. How proud and hap
py he had felt. He vowed she should
never want for anything which he could
procure. But he had changed since. He
had but little to commence with. They
had to practice such rigid economy, and
and to watch every dollar so closely to
be able to meet the payments on the
farm, that he had learned to love money,
not so much for the good it could pur-
chase, as for its own sake.
When he came in to dinner, followed
by his troop of hands, he could not help
noticing how flushed and tired she look
ed, but she was cheerful as ever. The
morning cloud passed.; and with the
sweet spirit of self-sacrifce that charac-
teriZed her, she had buried her dead
hopes and taken up the burden of life
again as best she could.
Hiram Graham was not ignorant of
this sacrifice. and it touched him keen
ly; the thought of it troubled him dur
ing the afternoon. He even forgot to
estimate what the probable yield Der
acre would be as the heavy sheaves were
showed off the rear platform and lay so
near together on the shOrn ground. He
could not deny that his wife had worked
as hard as he during the past years, and
the the economy that he had practiced
had been mostly in her domain. He be-
gan to wish that he had treated her
wishes more respectfully at least. But
then he could not help looking over to
where the forty acres lay. What choice
bit OF land it was! How long he had want
ed it! And now, when it was almost
within his grasp. must he let it 90? And
even were he to yield to Jennie's wishes
now, would not she know that he had
done so reluctantly and against his bet
ter judgment? And during the after
noon he thought the matter over and
over.
Powers" he called out as that indiyid-
ual was leaving the field at night, eff
the folks at home can spare Miranda, let
her come up in the morning and help
my wife,"
"All right, she will be glad to come"
was the answer.
Harvest was over, and Mrs. Graham