The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1880-08-11

her earning money, as his other work
folks did, never entered his mind. He
supported her." that was his idea of
their relations! 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 children. He never
had thought that any other woman
would have wished 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 differently to him
just now. Could it be that he was not
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 herself that day it would have been
as a penniless woman, Notwithstanding
the houses, the lands and mills that he
had so often told her were all hers; for
he knew, as everv 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 envied them anythingP Gould it
be that he was not as good man as he
thoughtP He had felt deeply the wrongs
of the slaves, whose labors had been ap-
propriated by their masters, and when
q negro, who had worked twenty years
for his master before the emancipation
freed him, came to Jarvis mills, friend
less and penniless, the heart of the pro-
prietor swelled with indignation at such
injustice. He was eloquent ON the sub
ject, at home and abroad, and won
dered how any one could be so cruel and
selfish as to commit such an outrage
against justice. He had called him a
robber many time, but now Donald
Jarvis looked to himself very much like
the old shareholders Massa Brown
had taken the proceeds of Cuffee's labor
for his own without "thank you" for
it. True, whe 1 Cuffee eat he had given
him food, when he was sick he had
given him medicine, and he had clothed
him, too, just as he himself thought
best. Mr.. Jarvis had married 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 lit
tie better 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 NV he wondered that she had
not 'rebelled long ago. Had his life
been mistaken Had his wife no more
money or liberty than Cuffee had in
bondage. Was Donald Jarvis no better
than Massa Brownp
His brain seemed to be in muddle,
and he looked so strangely that his wife,
anxious to break the spell, took his
arm. saying "Let lis go home, dear. tea
must be waiting for u.s." He took of
his hat in a dreamy way and they walked
ously to meet them. The yard was so
fresh and green, and the flowers so
many and bright, that he wondered he
had never thanked Nettie for them all.
Hitherto he had looked upon them us
his, but now he felt that his interest in
them was only a 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 him so after the hard,
dull day at the mill. They sat again at
the table, which had been a source Ci
comfort and pleasure to him so many
years, and he wondered how he could
have enjoyed it 80 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 himP Who else
could have turned it into just what he
needed day after day for years? And he
began to have an underlined feeling thai
it took more than money to make 8
home. He glanced at his wife's face as
he buttered his last slice of bread.
1t was not that of the 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 hi
knew that she had given the bloom anC
freshness of her youth to make hi
home what il was. His daughters haC
her rose-leaf cheeks, his sons her youth
full vitality, all had her cheerful, win
some ways, and comforted him now a!
she had in those days when, hardly
| knowing what care meant, she hat
lived for him alone.
And new thought came to him
"Who was comforting her now whel
| she had so much careP" Was not tina
what he promised to do when h(
brought her from her old homer H
sighed as he thought how far he hat
drifted from her while holding her in
bondage equal to Cuffee's. Nay, he fel
that her claims were far more binding
than any which had ever held tn
negro, and that his obligations to he
were so much the greater.
Something called the children ou
doors, and Mr.. Jarvis took his cas-
chair. His wife came and stood besid
him. 60 fear you are not well, Donald
or are you displeased with meP"
He drew her into his arms and toll
d her how her words had showed hiI
what manner of man he was, and ther
were words spoken that need not b
written, but from that day forth di
ferent man was the proprietor of tn
Jarvis mills, and there was a brighte
light in Mrs. Jarvis eyes, for at last sh
had something of her own, nor has sh