The Red Cloud chief., 1881-02-17

finished before she could sleep. Mon
day would bring another school day.
and il would also bring about The newt
able washing. The ehiiifen must "look
like other children" IL their mother
lost her life in the effort to keep them
scrubbed and fed and whole and clean.
Mrs. Harcourt tiptoed softly Gut Of
the room.
The baby was nervous, like herself
no wonder, poor thing-and was easily
awakened from its ftful slumbers.
There vas nc kindling wood ready
for the kitchen stove. but Mrs Ha.court
was used To that. She spiit 8 piece Of
pitch pine into -plinters and soon had a
roaring fire and a rcd-hot oven. In her
haste To prepare the meal before the
baby should awake and cry. she burnt
her meat and scorched her potatoes and
burned a heavy crust on her biscuit
So the supper was indigestihle an
unusual thing but Harry Harcourt ate
heartily as usual, and as usual retired
early to rest leaving his paie-faced wife
TO wash the dishes and scrub The chill
dren. and, aftor they were safe in bed,
apply herself to finishing the huge
basket of mending before the mantel
clock should chime the hour Of mid
night.
Harry Harcourt felt a little anxious
and a trifle mean as he watched her
furtivcly aud saw how very pale and
weary she was; but he was not thu man
TO unbend from his fancied dignity, nor
did he really believe that his wife de-
served his sympathy. He lay upon his
back in the bedroom adjoining, leaving
the door slightly ajar.
Stitch, stitch, stitch, went the wear
fingers OF his pale-faced wife, as the
hours went on, her feet in the meantime
keeping up a ceaselcss rock, rock, rock,
with the swaying cradle.
Harry Harcourt was uneasy. Per.
haps 1t was his supper; perhaps it was
his conscience. But his stomach and
his conscience were alike imperviGis
to ordinary Disturbance, and 1 leave
the Reader 10 guess the cause of his
uneasincss. He raised up on his elbow
and gazed out into the room where his
wife was sewing,
stitch, stitch, stitch; rock. rock, rock.
Would the stitching and the rocking
never stop?
But pshaww thought Harry Har-
court. "INhat fight have | { be UNI
easy4 A woman's work is nothing. Let
her stitch and le. her rock. It's what
women Arc n;adc for"
Sill, ne could nothelp reclining there
and watching her.
The clock struck eleven, and still her
silent, weary work went on; and. rs
Harry Harcourt gazed, he fancicd that
her entire brain and body became trans
parent, and he could see himself re-
Elected in her thoughts As he had never
seen himself before
Yes, yes" she .c~iilo1uized. and her
mental words thrilled him like elcc-
tricity. %"lIarry thinks he is the head
of this family, and its only provider,
stay and support. But, bless him, he
doesn't know. guess I'll retire from
the firm and give Him a much-needed
lcSSon'4
Aud she bent low over the cradle
and kissed the sleeping baby, and eve
while he gazed at her she disappeared.
What had become of her?
Harry iiarcourt arose from his couch
and put on his clothes and approached
the cradle rcverently and cautiously.
Near it was her low rocking-chair. and
by its side the heaped-up work basket
and her scissors, spools and thimble.
On the floor, which was yet damp from
Tia" after-supper hopping it had re-
ceived when the children and himself
were in bed. lay a promiScuous array
of old clothes. washed, ironed, patched
and mended by her patient fingers. He
gathered up the Worn garments one by
one, and, as he touched them, felt that
they were warm with the wasted life
forces of his pale-faced wife.
The night passed away, and morning.
roseate and radiant, beamed in at the
uncurtained window where Harry Har-
court sat watching. The baby awoke
and began its usual wailing cry. He
tried hard to pacify it with the nursing
bottle his wife had provided the night
before, but it refused to be comforted.
He remembered seeing It's mother shake
it into a few extra screams, followed 6y
a season of quie:ude. but when he tried
the experiment it did not succeed.
What was he 10 do?
The older children were up by this
time, %clamoring and hungry and cold.
He Knocked them to the right and the
left with his open hands and scolded
them into trembling silence.
Where's my mamma?'
The unanswerable question was re-
peated over and over till Harry Har-
court grew frantic with suspense and
grief and bewilderment.
The pile of mending had not all been
completed, and the many missing but
tons made it very announcement for him
TO dress the children properly for Sab
bath-school.
The breakfast was a complete failure.
The children could not eat his primitive
cooking, and the baby's wailing cries
racked his nerves-strong and healthy
rs he was-till he was desperate enough
TO almost strangle it.
Dinner was a more perplexing meal
for him TO prepare than breakfast. He
whipped Ben and Billy to make them
wash the dishes, and whipped them
even harder when they broke half of
them into a shapeless mass by letting
the dish-pan fall.
Monday came at last. and after a
sleepless night with the wailing baby.
Harry Harcourt went once more through
the perplexing work of the morning in
the kitchen.
And then came the washing.
A wearier. crosser man than Harry
Harcourt never sat down to q cold din
ner. &
The children skulked i'm the corners
and fairly forgot to play at tandem
tcaming. In a few DAYS their clothes
wore out again. and he could no patch
them, nor could he get away from the
house to earn or even buy new ones.
His " garments grew ~bnttonleSs,
and his food was insupportably indi-
gestible.
When Harry Harcourt looked in the
I glass. he found himself growing pale,
like his vanished wife. No wonder she
grew white and thin. poor thing" he
sighed, sadly. Il shall die before
Z MANY iowa Is II have 80 ,,.r oil Ak, -