The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1881-11-17
s ESTABLISHED In
Z MARCH, 1S4T.

Gan go! every moment is mapped Ou
OF No, no; cannot do it. Thank yo
err, all the same. My mother wants t
sh give me pleasure, but it cannot bt
1g TO away for a week! | have neve
er done that in all my life"
ne But you think she can, you thin
Up she ought" | said, turning to he
a mother. The poor woman looked a
rs her child with piteous look. I thinl
nG 1t dawned upon her, then and there
le for the first time, that perhaps sh,
IN had made mistake about Ellen. L
L had not occurred to her that there hat
% % been any selfshness in her tearfu
II sense of the impossibility of parting
y with her daughter. All at once, in 8
le moment, with sudden CLEAN of that
e enlightenment which so often comes
e too late, she saw it. She saw it. and
= It went through her like an arrow,
u She turned to me with another piteous
: glance. What have | done, what have
e L done? her look seemed to saw.
!. 1.-Two or three days" the poor wo-
4 man said, with melancholy ATTEMPT
J at playfulness. Nothing can happen
to us IN that time. Her father is iii :"
; she said, turning to me as if I knew
nothing, land we are always anxious
She thinks it will be too much for me
66y myself But what does it matter
for few days? Ii | am overdone. |
can rest when she comes back
Was 1t possible she could suppose
that this was all | knew? [ was
afraid to catch Ellen's eye. did not
know what might come after such a
speech. She might break forth with
some sudden revelation of all that
felt sure must be in her heart. II
closed my eyes instinctively, sick with
terror. That moment heard Ellen's
clear, agreeable voice.
Il don't want you to be overdone.
mother. What is the use of all that
is past and gone, if am to take holi-
days and run away when | like for
two or three days? No, no; my place
IS here, and here [ must stay. 1 don't
want you to be overdone."
And looking at her, | saw that she
smiled. But her mothers face was
full of trouble. She looked from Ell
len to me, and from me to Ellen. For
everything there is beginning. Did
she only then for the first time per-
ceive what had been done?
However, after this there was moth
ing more to say. We did not see Ell
len again till the days were short. and
the brilliant weather over She ,
changed very much during that win
ter. Her youth, which had bloomed
on so long unaltered, seemed to leave !
her in a day. When we came back,
from looking twenty she suddenly
looked thirty-fve. The bloom went
from her cheeks. She was as trim as
ever, and as lghtfooted, going out
alert and bright every morning to her
lessons; but her pretty little figure
had shrunk, and her very step on the 7
pavement sounded different. Life and :.
all its hopes and anticipations seemed T.
to have ebbed away from her. I don't o
doubt that many of her neighbors had O
been going on in their dull routine of b
life without knowing any of those .
hopes or prospects, all this time by y
Ellen's side, and fulfilled their round g
II duties without any such diversions. d'
Oh, the mystery of these myriads of al
humble lives, which are never enliven- r.
ID even by romance manque, story -
hat might have been; that steal away a. a.
rom dull youth to dull age, never IT.
anything but the days work. M
lever coming to anything! But Ell
en- had known something different,
life that was her own; and now she
lad lost it. The effect was great; how
ould it be otherwise? She lost her pa
elf altogether for little while, and lu
Then she came to again, as all worthy an
Ouls must come, she was another Ell oh
IN; older than her age as the other ly
ad been younger, and prepared for en-
verythlng; no longer trying to evade MI
lffering, rather desirous, if that might oil
e, to forestaIl it, to discount it-if | re-
lay use the word-befote 1t wa due. bo
nd know the worst. She never told 90
le this III words, but | felt that ii
as so. 1t Is not only III 1t shlpwreck sh
lat the unfortunate ON the verge of SIT
cath plunge IN to get it over a few
ours, few minutes, sooner In life
lere are many shipwrecks which we
ould forestall, if we could. in the
me way, by a plunge-by a volun- tL, 10
.ry putting on Of the decisive mo- I Iii'
ent. Some, | suppose, will put it m GA
by every expedient that despair can req
ggest; but there are also those who G:l Gsl
n bear anything but to wait until S'n ull
owly, surely, the catastrophe comes. lme'l m
lien wanted to make the plunge. to eli' ::
It it over, partly for Johns sake. lmcll m
hose infdelity she began to calcu- pei
te upon-tO (she believed) wish for. Iol Io
lie will never be able to live without @ oae
home to go to, without a woman to PEI
eak to, now," she said once, in
oment of incaution-for she was \
ry guarded, very reticent, about all wri
Is part OF her mind, and rarely be- up
aged herself. 1t is curious how lit and
faith women in general, even the | W
ost tender, have in mans constan- By
=. Either it is because of an inherent tiers
ant OF trust in their own power to ize(
cure affection, which might be called life
lmility; or else it is quite the reverse anz
a pride of sex too subtle to show, in for
y conscious way, overweening con- it v
ence in the power over a man of diat
y other woman who happens to be Soc
al him, and want Of confidence in pea
y power on his part to resist these in
scinations. Ellen had made up her nv
nd that her lover when he was alb and
at from her would be, as she would hea
We said, ''like all the rest Per- the
ps, in kind of wild generosity, she real
shed it, feeling that she herself nev-
might be free to make him happy; Is
t, anyhow, she was persuaded that tru,
is was how it would be. She looked has
t for si0ns of If in his varv fret lot Try