Litchfield enquirer., 1880-02-12
MARTHA JAcoB1.
BY F. W. ROBINSON.

| J Fulham Refuge for service with the Mayfields. They had been forty five strange, wicked years to me. and 1 was glad to turn my back
 upon them. had been more than once in prison, and had been more than once sorry for
 the sins which had committed. .'This is tLe
 last time" had always said when my prison
 days were over and This is the very last,
 protested when the Refuge had given me a
 good word, and there had come to my unproit-
 able life another chance. At forty five, had learned something of what was right-before
 then had guessed at it, and followed wrong 1 as easier work for me.
 They were young couple, those May6elds | they had not been married three months
 when I entered their service. They had known trouble quickly after their wedding day. There are some people born unto it, and
 the Mayields were two of them. In three
 months they had dropped like stone from
 good luck to bad-reckoning in the honey
 moon as we'll. Arthur Mayfeld had held a
 responsible post as buyer in wholesale city house, and on the strength of his position,
 his future, he married for love. He had been
 four weeks on, his wedding tour, when the
 news came that his firm had failed smashed | up" for hundreds of thousands carrying away
 other firms in the great crash, and sending a little army of old servants adrift on the cold
 world. f..aE a-.~-
 Arthur Mayfeld went adrift with the rest,
 and reached not the shore again. He had
 saved little money-a few hundreds-and
 this sum came in handy, and enabled him to | keep up an appearance for a while, and to
 wait more patiently than clerks less lucky
 than he had had the power to do. He had hoped to step into similar position that which l he had lost but It came not, and an ugly ru-
 mor got abroad that he had known ot many
 doubtful transactions of the firm and helped
 in them after his fashion. This he denied al
 ways. l have heard him protest to his wife against the scandal, and curse those who had set it af1oat; protest to himself even when
 pacing up and down his little drawing room
 like a wild beast in his den. believe he was 4 a thoroughly honest young man at that time,
 although was bad judge of what was hon. | est. -... He and his wife were both religious folk
 who went regularly to church and dealt in l long graces before meals, after the fashion of their parents before them, suppose. l had
 turned ''good," but did not like too much of this-it embarrassed me- and reminded me of
 the prison chaplain droning away daily and
 wearying us to death. was never religious,
 not even when the lady superintendent of the
 Refuge-I say God bless her for 't1at-told me she would trust me again with all her heart,
 and advised others to trust me. The Mayfelds took me away to their honest home, saying:
 ''Come with us, Martha; we know what
 misfortune IS, and we sympathize with ties pecially with such hard misfortune as yours"
 "A misfortune brought about by my own
 hands-my own sheer badness, madam" confessed to the young wife when was duly installed in her service.
 ''No matter now, if you are penitent-is it?"
 'No."
 l A,,l h,,kx dragged down by you, or with you that should surely be come consolation, Mar thar"
 Il dare say it is-I don't know" I answer ed, moodily.
 My poor, stolid woman, but you do know l in your heart." said Mrs. Mayfield, placing | her two fair hands upon my shoulders, shak- | ing me and looking laughingly into my face,
 ''and you will be all the happier for your ! knowledge some day"
 'I shall never be happy-I don't deserve to | be. don't want to be, maam"
 ''There, that will do," she sad, running away. ''I will not argue with you any more
 Il will send Arthur to you instead"
 ''Oh ! please, mo-"
 l She laughed again she knew I was afraid l of Arthur-that was her husband--and of his prayers, many of which were launched at me, | was certain. Not but that liked the man little-for his wife's sake, more than his own, probably, tor anything that she loved
 was bound to like, loving her so much myself. She was the one woman who had thought any good of me, and was grateful l dare say should have respected this Ar | thur Mayfield more, had he been less in the | way, and more out of house. Being always l at home, he interfered with home too much, | and became ''coddle'' by degrees telling | me what to do, and what to leave undone, | more like the mistress than the master. Iu the | old days-the bad old days-I should have run at him with knife; but though he tried l my temper, wouldn't let him see it, or his wife know it. l was always comfortable, e,"I | said; and had learned to see, as months and months went on, that they were not-and that trouble was creeping on towards them. '' When they thought was in bed, instead of listening on the stairs to learn what was the | matter, they talked of their ill-fortune, their expenses, the money melting away in the bank, the bad times in the city; and it was always the woman who cheered up the man. l and who would not look at the dark side of ! things, but prophesied the sunshine-which
 never came, however, such devils luck some people have. }
 Arthur would brighten up at last, and be- l lieve in her. s f' y5,5se-sn 'Yes. it's long lane which has no turning: Jenny," he would say, taking her in his arms and kissing her, land we have few pounds yet in the money-box. And presently, to make our hearts rejoice-perhaps to turn our luck-the baby, Jenny!" ~3
 I-I thought, Arthur, you might fancy the baby would be-a little-expensivef for us just now. hope ou.don't," she murmured. Ut will be a comfort-a blessing-God's blessing on our happy marriage. a' ie 'My own dear husband" cried Jenny May field rapturously. sn.3t had listened enough-l went upstairs with a.choking, gasping feeling at my heart a.d throat-there was a meaning in their words which stabbed me terribly. I thought that night that would run away from them, that l ought to tell them everything, or go-and l then that could never say one solitary word, or they would hate and loathe me.
 But stayed with them and month or two after this, thelr little baby boy was born Then came more trouble-an awful trouble for while, for the young wife's life was des- paired of; and the doctor, and the physician who came twice in his pair horse carriage and l took away their money for an opinion that everybody had, said there was, no hope ard she must die. She recovered, though ]; she | was saved as by miracle, and it was like one, to see her downstairs again for the first time l ip her old place by the fireside-a woman risen | from the dead. .> 4s .f .,..is-f.ee. is7 This was four or five months after her con- 1 finement-four or five months of heavy expen- ses, hired nurses, doctors bills, physicians fees, and nourishing foods and there was no l begrudgiug money rather lavish casting it
 away-in the hope to save the wife. The l hope came, and Jenny Mayfeld was spared. 1 The baby had been chrstened Paul. In the | mothers delicate state of health, it had be- 1 come necessary to wean it few weeks after
 its birth, and the greater portion of the care of the child devolved upon me. & Ge 1 They were not afraid to trust me-they 1 would not have known what to do without
 my love and forethought they said-they
 hoped the time would. come when they would
 be able to show substantially their gratitude
 to good, honest, faithful Martha-as they call
 ed me: They knew well enough, for there