The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1881-09-17

~, give you my WOru IOr IL, MIS-.
Jamison never saw those clothes. She
only staid few minutes, and she
looked out of the window all the time, !"
said Mr.. Birney, half reluctantly. when
he saw how distressed his wife was at
his carelessness.
"Of course she saw them; let wom-
an alone for that" sobbed the poor
wife, utterly broken down with the
thought that stranger had witnessed
the disorder, and what dreadful
opinion she will have of mer'
But it wasn't your doings. Kate.
Of course she would understand that"
eagerly put in Mr.. Birney, anxious to
say something consoling.
mo, no; that wouldn't make any
differences; woman always gets the
blame If her house is disorderly," an
swered Mrs. Birney, mournfully shak
ing her head. "And it isn't pleasant
when one has worked hard to have
things neat and clean, to have strangers
get the impression that one is sloven.
"You are nervous, to-day" said Mr..
Birney, all at once comprehending that
his wife did not look well. "Does your
head ache?"
so! ache all over; I'm clear tired
out" she replied, YEARLY, putting her
hands to her throbbing temples.
"You must go to bed right away, and
l will go for DR.. Carson" said the now
alarmed husband, almost carrying her
in his arms as he laid her on her own
bed. sg ri
In the long, dreary weeks that fol-
lowed while the sick woman lay pros
trate, the husband had ample time to
discover that his own want of thought
and blindness to her failing strength
had largely contributed to her illness.
The hats and coats were allowed to lie
undisturbed now where he happened to
throw them; the dust was left unmo-
ested on the furniture, and had it not
been that Mr.. Birney's thoughts were
so much occupied with his wife's re-
covery, the dirt and disorder prevail
ing in the once tidy household would
have been intolerable. A rafting, noisy
Irish girl, wholly unframed in domestic
duties, had been employed to do the
work for the family during Mrs. Birney's
illness, and with her crude ideas of
cleanliness and indifference to her en-
ployer's interests, the whole home at
mosphere seemed changed. The chill
dren, knowing no motherly restraint,
ran wild. with unkempt hair and dirty
frocks, from morning till night. pre-
senting so different an appearance that
the poor invalid herself scarcely recog-
nized them when they were permitted
occasionally to visit the sick chamber
the whole sadly transformed household
being forcible answer to the question
in the old song, What is home with
out a motherP" sesig. s1Ef
"La, sakes! Where on earth did so
many flies come fromp' one day queried
Mrs. Clayson, kind old lady living in
the neighborhood, who often came TO
relieve Mr.. Birney by sitting few
hours with his wife, while he attended
to his outside duties.
five been keerful to keep the blinds
down and the room cool and comforta-
Bile every time I've been here, and now
here is the poor creetur just about
eaten up with flies that are buzzin' in
and out like swarm o. beesr' pursued
the old lady, as she went beating about
the room with fly brush, in the en-
deavor to get the troublesome Great
ures out. Going to the window and
looking out. she started back, exclaim-
ing, "WelI, if that don't beat all!
Somebody has gone and set an empty
sugar -barl right under this very win
dow, as sure as my names Samanthy
Clayson. just to draw allthe flies in this
end of town and poster this sick wom-
ans life out of her. Who could "a done
such a silly trickP"
Mr.. Birney rushed from the room,
and scizing the barrel, from which issued
cloud of hies at his approach, kicked
it vigorously down to the bottom of the
lot, soliloquizing as he went, "Whai a
COMPOUNDED fool am, to set this barrel
in that place! l declare. / ought to be
iiayed alive; just as if poor Kate hadn't
had enough suffering and misery al
readyr' Then, as the remembrance of
the numberless daily inconsiderate acts
of which he had been guilty, and of
which his patient wife had been the
victim, rose up before him, the unhappy
man groaned aloud, If Kate ever gets
well she shan't wash any more dirty
spittoons for me. It's an awful mean
job for man to impose upon any wom-
an, and l might have saved her lots of
scrubbing Of oil cloths and washing of
tenders il had been particular never
to spit on 'em. I've sometimes thought
may be she was trine too nice, but /
see now how unhappy and miserable
I'd be if l was compelled to live with q
slatternly woman who hadn't
pride enough to keep things
tidy. Home wouldn't be home
to me it Kate had been dirty, careless
woman like Norah. And yet, all these
years I've been making laborfor her by
my confounded carelessness. suppose
it is modification, just as she says, to
have strangers look on her as careless
and slovenly housekeeper, when she
tries very hard to have things nice.
Many's the time she's lugged in heavy
buckets of water when her back was
aching terribly, while I've been sitting
by, reading. She never could bear to see
the ward Uttered nm. and shouldn't