The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1881-04-06
HER SONS WIFE,

man, in widows weeds, and pic
ture she was gazing at sh6yad 4
girlish face, fair and delicate, ith
dimpling cheeks and a pair d sofs
blue eyes;
Tom Raymond vas his M er's
idol-at least, as much of an "a as
was consistent with her dcyoa ads
herence to the DecalogGe; u her
love for bimyhad,that unsettled pal.
lity that always characterize tfhs
mother.loye, and when he bIlslli1
home his young wife, she ssr ths
gifi % her hedft al once 91a lug
Tom with genuine pleasure r.
ing her SO sweet "a daughte d
.ibFa.tiAssese akllipe lysht &
the young couple making it 1 point
to 60 to "M6ther's1 at least once "a
week, to take tea and spend the even
ing. Just how the alienation began
it would be difficult to tell. To Ton,
and his mother ii was always a mys.
terry, neither Of them being conscious
of harboring any unkindly feeling.
Perhaps an untimely suggestion in
regard to the hygienic treatment Of
the baby had something to do with
ii for Lita was warm advocate of
"Mrs, Winslow's Soothing Syrap," Of
which nostrum, Mrs. Raymond, Sen
ior, had a wholesome adherence; and
perhaps it was partly due to Toms
frequent dlllsions to his mothers
skill in preparing his favorite dishes
young husbands are prone toaf1ict
the souls Of inexperienced wives by
their outspoken allegiance to the
traditions of The mothers in culinary
affairs; but, whatever may have been
the entering wedge, the breach had
gradually widened, until all inter-
course with the old home and the
new was practicaily'at an end.
Even after matters had reached
this unhappy pass Tom continued to
make his mothers name a household
word; but one evening, when, with
little Phil on his knee, he began
talking of Grandma" Lita angrily
interrupted him.
81 wonder that you ever consented
TO leave that mother of yoursl One
would think there was not another
such on the earth!" she cried, "a red
spot burning on either cheek. :,
Tom looked at her for an instant,
his fine gray eyes widening to their
utmost limit.
There are not many like her." he
said, quietly; but after that he never
praised his mother in Lita's hearing.
One day Aunt Truesdale, a rela-
tive whom Lita had not seen for
years, walked in, with her satchel
and umbrella, and announced her
intention of making q weeks visit;
"What sweet looking old LADY,"
she exclaimed, the next morning,
holding up a photograph tLat she
had found buried undera heterogene-
Gus collection of discarded brio a.brac,
from which Lila had told her to help
herself to whatever she fancied.
"Who is she, dear2"
That! Oh! that's Toms motherl"
said Li,a, indiherently.
"Your husbands motherl Why,
child, you must take me TO see her,
| know shall like her."
"We are not on visiting TERMS"
answered Lita, coldly.
Not on visiting terms?" repeated
Aunt True, anxiously. my dear
child, hope it is not your fault"
~ am sure 1 don't know whose
fault it is" said Lita, pettishly.
aunt True, | mustn't forget to show
you my musical album. 1t is a real
curiosity" But Aunt True was not
to be turned from the subject in
hand.
whoever is to blame, it is all
wrong, dear" she said, earnestly.
"a wife who sets herself against her
husbands friends loses what she can
never regain in her husbands re-
gard. Especially ought his mother
to be sacred to her. Remember he
can never have another mother; and