The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1880-02-07
TWO CROSS WORDS.

ton, do wish you'd do til can't wait al
day."
Tom didn't speak bit cross, only EN-
phatic; but l was out Of temper that morn
ing, and my head ached badly from sitting
up late the night before. Tom had gon,
Ito superior the second time since ou
marriage, given by some OF his bachelor
friends, and had come home the worse iol
it. 1t had provoked me intensely. So
had followed him to his bed in sullen 81
lence, and awoke none the better pleased
after my sleep, on the morning alluded TO
To make the matter worse, just as bespoke
to me about the button, the knife with
which was cutting bread for his lunch
slipped, iniiicting deep cash on my hand
and the baby awoke and set up her sharp
little cry from the cradle, all In one and
the same moment
"You can wait as long as did last night,
I reckon" Ireplied sharply, really angry
at last. Don't hurry mel do all l can,
and more than am able to do with one
pair Of hands,"
Tom dropped his button and turned to-
ward me with startled "Why, Lucyw
"Don't Lucy me-" l retorted, throwing
down the bread, and catching up the baby,
while the blood streamed from my hand
over her white gown. you've done
enough-you've broke my heart! wish
had never seen you'll wish was back
again with my father and mother"
broke down with burst OF historical
tears, and seeing the blood on my hand,
Tom came over and knelt down beside
me. "Why Lucy" he said, his voice and
eyes full OF tenderness, "you've cut your
hand. Why didn't you say so? Here,
give me the child while you bind it up
see how it bleeds!"
He held out his hands for the baby, but
l snatched her away and went on sobbing.
"Don't cry, Lucy" he continued, strok-
ing the hair back from my forehead
"please don't; l know. I've done wrong,
dear-but didn't mean it. fell in with
some OF the old boys and they persuaded
me against my will. But it's the last time,
Lucy-the last time"
Why didn't turn to him, then, and
help and encourage him? Because my
mean, tyrannous temper got the better Of
my woman's heart.
"0h, yesl" said sneeringly, cit is easy
enough to make fine promises-you told
me the same thing before. How can you
expect me TO trust you nowWS
Tom was spirited and quick tempered.
great, loving-heated men always are. He
sprang to his feet like flash, and, before
| had time to speak or think, had left the
room. tossed the child into the cradle,
and rushed TO the door but it was too late,
he was gone. l just caughta glimpse Of
him turning thecorner.
Invent back to the little breakfast room;
how Blank and drear 1t looked, and what
sharp, singing thorn there was in the
very core OF my heartl Iloved Tom, and
he loved me. We had been married only
eighteen months, and this was our first
quarrel. I sat down with the baby in my
arms, needless OF my morning work, and
fell to thinking. All the old, happy days
came back, and the one in particular
when we sat in Dumberry Wood. TWAS
in Autumn, and all the world seemed in
blaze Of gold, as the sun slid down, and
the squirrels scattered overhead, dropping
a ripe nut, now and then, into my lap, as
sat there, with the last rose Of summer
in my hair, knittinga purse for Tom.
Lucy he had said as l wove in the last
golden stitches, you've knit my love-my
very life-up in that purse. Tell me now,
before you finish 1t, how it is to be? am |
10 have you and-oh! won't think OF 1t
even, Lucy, it would be too dreadful!
"No,, Tom" answered, "you are to
have the purse, and the hand that knit it,
too"
Poor Tom, he cried then Just like q
little child-he, the bravest man in the
mo fault in him, only little too wild,
too fond OF gay company; but you, must
tame him, Lucy, as your mother did me. f"
That was my old fathers advice on our
wedding day. My heart smote me dread
fully as I recalled it to mind that morning.
Had l done my duty? Had l followed
the example Of my mother, who never let
fall an unkind word?
But Tom would be home to his dinner.
The thought brought me to my feet. |
did my work briskly, and went about
cooking Just such dinner as | knew he
liked. The plum'pudding was done to
perfection; the baby in clean slip, and
myself all smiles to receive him when the
clock struck one. But he didn't come.
/ put by the untasted dinner and pre-
pared supper, and lit bright fire in the
little parlor. He should have pleasant
welcome. But he did not come. Eight
nine. ten o'clock, and put by the un'
tasted supper, and baby and I went up tc
Inc nursery to wait and watch. How the
little thorn In my heart pierced ant
wrankled? Tom had broken his promise
and nv upkindness was the cause! Moth
ling else rang in my ears through the lonI
hours.
About two o'clock, I heard noise be
low and went to the window. There wa
man on the porch; couldsee him in thu
dim light. :,
ting out my head. e,
Yes; open the door, Lucy; quick, thu
police are after me:
NV heart sunk. The police after him
what could he have done? j ran dow
swiftly and unlocked the door: But as
did so two men, wearing official badges
stepped upon the porch, and one OF then
laid bis hand on Toms shoulder and said
q arrest you, SIR
For whatT | cried.
For murder! ,,,
The floor seemed sliding from beneat
nv feet, but caught at the door 70 stead
myself and looked at Tom. At that II
slant the official uncovered his Lantern
and, oh, my God! there was blood on IN
husbands hands. 49,,
All the rest Is a blank. When l cam
to myself again, was In my own room
and hind c0fnnaRRiOnate faces wei