Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1880-01-30
THE SILVER HORSESHOE.


story In Two Chapters.
CHAPTER 1.
We had been so sure that the troubles that
were overwhelming others in the manufactur-
ing world would never touch us We had
been so sure that delegates from the unions
might prowl about among our hands and
never gain one single adherent!
thought our safety founded on a rock.
thought we could calmly and sympathizing-
ly look down upon the troubles of our neigh
bors
This sounds Strong minded" you are ready
to say.
Well, | don't know what other people may
choose to call it, but in truth l have been
very proud and glad that ever since the day
married the owner of Otway Mills he has
liked me to take an interest in his work and
in his people.
don't mean to say that he talks to me
about the price of yarns, or tells me of the
rises and falls in the cotton market, though
think that if any great anxiety came upon
him, even Of that kind Jack would give me u
hint of it, and I'm sure l should try my best
to look as wise rs n young owl, and as if the
inns and outs of the trade were familiar sub
ects to my inquiring and enlightened mind.
You see | have had such an example in
Johns mother aud then-well, my family
thought ought to have done better than marry
II Lancashire mil. owner, and they said good
many bitter things Aunt Donison used to
give her shoulders the least little shrug and
draw her shawl about her as if she shivered
slightly when alluded to my future home ;
and when she shook hands with John, she al
ways managed to convey to me an affected
misgiying that she rather feared her delicate
fingers might be soiled by the contact. These
things hurt at the time though they lost
their sting quickly enough when got him all
to myself, and he held me close in his arms
and told me how hard he would strive to
make me happy. Happy well, well, won
der does there live happier woman than
Johns wife in all the length and breadth of
England Yet no life is without its days of
trial, and the story | am going to tell you
now is of one of those dark times that como
t. MS all sooner or later.
The way that Aunt Denison and others of
my own kith and kin behaved about my mar
riage naturally put me somewhat 'Out in the
cold with them, and threw me more COM
pletely upon Johns people than might have
been the case otherwise. And how good they
were to me!
l had never seen Mrs. Ralph Otway, Johns
mother, until | came to the land of smoke and
tall chimneys, for she had not come South to
our wedding Her delicate health was the
NAShhS Bhh lOINhIh, bul OHn private Opll-
ion is that John was afraid of auntie He could
put up calmly enough with that shiver and
shrug when directed against himself but
both he and had once inadvertently heard
her say that ''she believed all Lancashire la
dies spoke in a loud voice, and had very red
hands," and l think that was enough for
John.
When first l saw Mrs Ralph Otway this
saying at once darted into my mind, for new
err, among all the grand London ladies that
visited at my guardians house, had l ever
seen a woman 30 completely, beautifully re-
fined in look, voice. aud manner. Then her
hands Why they were such soft, white, wo-
manly things, and closed over ones own with
such a tender, faithful clasp, that once sit
ting by her knee, l could not help bending
down and kissing them as they lay upon her
lap.
She used to tell me stories of Jacks boyish
days: stories that she never tired of telling
or / of listening to; and sometimes she
spoke of her dead husband and of how he
had been revered and looked up to by every
body, until at last his name became sort of
proverb, and people in the business world
had been heard to speak of him as honest
Ralph Otway." You could hear a tremor in
her voice when she spoke of things like these,
and see a faint flush, like the pink in the in
ner side of a sea-shell, rise to her delicate
cheek.
1T is great responsibility to have so
many hands under one head, aud to be an
swerable for the welfare of them all it needs
wisdom to rule them well, and to be just as
well as kind, she would say TO me, speaking
of the great mills where the machinery whirr-
ed and buzzed all day long, and the "hands"
came rushing out when the dinner. bell clang-
ed its noisy summons, like bees swarming
from their hive. Listening to her wise and
tender words it was borne in upon me that
from his early boyhood John had been train
ed in the best school to make a man good aud
true.
He had wanted his mother to live with us
and you may be sure I had no will apart
from his-but she said mo married folks
are best left to themselves. She had her
way but we would not let her go far from
u.s. only step or two, as John said, 30 that
we could run across of an evening, and she
could come to us without fatigue.
By the end Of the first year of my married
life seemed to have forgotten the fact of be-
ing a south-country woman. 1 found that
there were plenty of art-lovers aud music-loV-
ers among the people whom Aunt Denison
once told Inc went into society with little
fluffy bits of cotton sticking to their dress
coats; while, as for honest warmth of heart,
and true, ungrudging hospitality, l soon
came to the conclusion that the South couldn't
hold a candle TO the North.
was very happy during that strange new
year happier still during the one that fol-
lowed when l held Johns son in my arms,
and saw the clear gray eyes that had won my
girlish heart look up at me from my lap.
At first motherhood seemed TO me such
sweet, new, precious joy that was ready to
be over-anKious l might have fallen into
the mistake that so many young wives make,
and in my love for baby let the even dearer
possession of my husbands companionship
Slip from my hold. However dearly every
man loves his children he does not want TO be
always hearing about them; least of all when
he comes home tired with the days work
nor yet does he like to see his wife gradually
become little better than a nurse-maid. 1
know all these things now but in those early