The Indianapolis leader. (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1879-1890, 1881-10-22

your foot down., as you always say; II
mighty aggravatin' sometimes, for 70
never pretend to ask me what think
such or such things, and for all Pm so qui,
like, and don't say anything, feel it never
theless, and I've begun to wonder when m
timell comei'
The Deacon gasped, nd his wife, throw
ing away her last remnant of timidity, cor
tinued:
"We've been married now nigh ont
twenty-five years, Nathan, but / can't re
member the time when J. ever set my q
down that such a thing should or shoul
not be donei"
She paused moment, with the scarle
staining her face like some bashful girl's
and her husband, watching the new light il
her usually dropping eyes, stammered out
with fast-expiring dignity:
"I-I'm surprised. l am, Hannah; an
surpriseii"
That's very likely" answered his wife
meekly; 1--WE are always surprised if per.
son ventures an opinion different from oul
own, and l suppose you are all the more
surprised at my attempting thing 1 never
did before; but it's gone on and on, until ]
can stand it no longer, Nathan, and must
| speak. I've worked long and hard for you,
now. more'n twenty years. Many and
| many's the night I've gone to bed too tired
to sleep, and it pears like never get rested
any more. Mary amt stout, you know, and
all the brunt of the work comes on me.
look old and feel old to be only forty-fve,
and It's the hard work that's done it; q hired
girl would have been a mighty help and
blessing sometimes, but you never seemed
to think about it, and never grumbled any,
g. II l.. Ill Ia
when I've thought it overland I've done it
hundreds and hundreds of times-it teches
mighty close to be always set aside like no
body at all, and have my wishes and opin.
ions continually talked against, for 1 never
forgot that Pm your wife, Nathan, and have
an equal right, with you, to say what
should or should not be doneP
Her voice trembled for a moment, but the
deacon's amazement was toe great for wo DE-,
and she hurried on
"There were never better children than
ours for smartness or work, and any bodyll
say so that knows 'em; but because the, IL
mind every word you say, and never
grumbe when you cross 'em, doesn't make
1t right that you should deny them every
privilege and enjoyment.
Young folks always banker after fun.
and 1T does not make them any better
Christians to be always quieting them down
when they are laughing or singing their
merry songs. There's Thomas; that BOYS
heart is set on going to singing school-he
can sing more songs Low than ever knew
in all my life, and he takes so natural. like
to the notes and tunes-I don't see why YOU
can't let him go, Nathan, for it would only
do him good, he's always so happy when |
he's singing, and God knows sorrow comes
soon enough to most folks. Mary wants to |
go to school so bad that she cries every |
morning when she sees the boys and girls |
go by. L know couldn't do all the work, |
but hired help is easy got, and you'd never
miss the money that would pay a girl her
wages.
'Now, as to Willes going to College. l |
don't want to appear contrary, Nathan, but
I've wanted it all along, and do think the
boy ought to go. It's my notion he'll never
make farmer, he's too set on his books;
not but what farmer can be as smart as
any body. but it's not in nature to do one
thing well. when your whole heart and soul
are hankering after something else.
''Nol L say let Willie go to College, and
let Mary go to sc hool, and Thomas to the /
singing-school, if they want to 60; it'll do
you good, for there's none of our children
going to be any of the ingnorant stock, let
ne tell you that.
"Of course you can't do the work, nobody |
expects you to; but you've got the money |
hat'll hire it done, and it's great deal bet
,er to be b few dollars out of pocket and
nave the love of your children than to leave
It all to them after awhile, and mebbe hav-
ing them feeling glad when you're gone."
IL think, sometimes, per'aps if you'd been
a little more kind and gentle like to Eliza
beth, she might "a"
"Mis' Heyworthi Hannahl" exclaimed |
the husband, with suddenly awakened dig
nity,"l hope you'll not attempt to blame |
me for what that sinful girl may have done;
me, Deacon?" And he clasped the chairs
arm firmly, while his feet took an amazed |
Jump from the fender to the floor
being Deacon doesn't help the mattor
q bit, and it won't help you, either. when it
comes to the last. and # you've not tried, or |
done anything to make anyone else happy,
Pm afraid there'll not be much happiness |
for you. Folks can sin in not doing what |
they ought to do, as we'll as in doing what |
they ought not; and we'll be judged for |
what We have not done as we'll as for what |
we have. No, Nathanl make your children |
happy, and no matter if it does take little |
money to do it, you'd far better leave them |
without a cent than to have your memory |
mould and rot because you denied them |
these favors. 1t takes mighty little, some |
times, to make another one happy, but I've |
a notion it goes long way with God"
Deacon Heyworth could not sleep. He |
was, to say the least of it, surprised. This |
was not Hannah's usual way of talking, and |
could or hat 81 ho
sessed her now. Ii she had spoken angrily |
he could have replied, but her language had |
been SO calm, SO dispassioned, so straightfor- |
ward. that he had not the least opportunity |
for anger.
For a while he could think of nothing but |
the strangeness of his patient, gentle-voiced
wife talking in this way to him; then grad
ually her words came back to him, and the
more he remembered of them the more they
troubled him; but not that he thought he
"looked at things In too strong q light" for
what need was there for Willie to 90 to
Coliege2 He never went, never wanted to
go, even the boy knew too much now for
any good; then as for Mary, she's better
scholar this very day than l am, and there's
no more need O her going to school than
there is of Hec thersl" and the good Deacon
very complscently eyed great white and vel.
low dog lying behind the stove, and decided
that it was all humbug, that he had ''set
his foot down. etc. "But then it was kind
of mean to say they shouldn't when Hannah
had set her heart on it; faint often she
crosses me; sh 8 been u powerful good wife
and mother, Hannah has" unused the Des-
con, with remorseful twinge. "Wonder
what did possess her, though, to say
what she did about Elizabeth" and
just then the Deacon's little devil,
self-conceit, stepped in and spurted at
such rate about "A man controlling hia own