Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1881-03-24


fore the nursery FIRE, laid hsrArms up
on a chair and cried herself sick. -
The Daltons had gone, aud other
visitors engaged the young ladies' IN
the parlor Papa was helping George
with his examples they do not call
them sums now-a-days) The little
ones slept soundly. The ntart ,bruisDi
almost to breaking, made its moan in
solitude, each 'solecism' a separate
agony
The light firm step that came up the
stairs, the kind face at the door, the
tender anxiety OF the query, Mother
are you siek?' were those of her first
born-.the man she had gotten from
the Lord. She had risen as she heard
his approach He never went to bed
without kissing her good night The
gas was turned low, but the red glow
in the CRATE glistenod on her wet lashss
and the deepened furDws about her
eyes and mouth
She laughed awkwardly in turning
from the tell-tale CLEAN. Scenes are
the dread of the dIflident.
Its nothin, my boy, trying to ov-
ercome tremor and huskiness. Il have
the blues, and am bit tired. That's
ALL
He pulled her down upon his knee
the stiff ungainly tigure-and held
her as he would May.
That means you have been over
working yourself for the rest of us.
All, little mother, how can we show
our appreciation Of your long years of
patient service? | was telling Grace
tonight what wife and mother yod''
are. She lost her parents so long ago
she does not remember receiving any
'mothering as the old people style it.
1t brings to mind the soft warmth of
nest and wings, the brooding and cud
ding and cooling of the bird over her
young You must give my Oracle a
double portion when she is your
daughter, to make up for what she has
missed
Morgan | can't stand such talk
tonight ! Your wife will be as much
ashamed of me as your sisters are.
Women see one another as men don't,
mind things you don't notice unless
your attention is called to them. You
all love me, know But I've seen to-
day what I've been very dull, perhaps
foolish, not to know lorg ago, that I'm
not your kind. The best thing you--
your wlfe-your father-your sisters
even my babies-can hope for is to
keep me in the background. And the
best hidin' place is the grave Ishant'
mortify you there i
The cry of the poor wounded heart
tore its way through the lips, and sobs
and tears followed.
Mother ! Dear mother z
Yes, that's all | am-all ever can
be !! | amt fit to rear the children I've
brought into the world. l don't know
nothin' but to tend to their bodily
wants--to make them comfortable'--
And happy, mother-yes, better
than that, s'ths young man inteFrnpted.
almost in tears himself. TO teach
them to love God and one another, to
live clean lives that will ripen into
beneficence to their kind when youth
has passed The harvest is not tet..
Mothers sow for all time-and for
eternity And you have sown well,
my precious mother
It's long waitln, dear. Specially
when a body's worn out and discour-
aged But you are very good to try
to put me in heart again
She arose, Strengthened herself up
and put back the scattered wisps Of
gray hair He could not but note how
wan and broken she looked Yet there
was mournful dignity IN expression and
homely speech.
There must be inglneers and fire.
men on every tain you knew. And
so long as you are all gettin' on so
smooth and rapid ] ought not to mind
that the fret and work and dirt has
left marks that won't wash off | shall
try not to feel too keenly that my girls
can't help seein the truth. Id change
myself for their sakes, if | could.
have always tried to be faithful
mother. I've tried to do my best. The
trouble is, in these times, the best of
sech as me goes sech q little ,cay.'
Tears were in the sons eyes. 'Oh
mother, you have done all this and
more too; and blessed fruit will come
from your faithfulness. As | have al
ready said, The harvest is not yet. {
Marian Horland, IN Youths Compaa-
, lOn.