Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1881-02-09

, 10 call her own,
7 How fast he thought, standiog there
: OF the office window looking down al
, tho little houses where The mill hands
, lived, Could II b. possible that hi'
wife envied them anythiug' Could
; II be that he was not as good a man
as he tlought' lie had felt deeply
the wrongs Of the slaves, whose labor'
had been appropriated by their mas
tcrs, aud when negro who had
worked twenty years ior hls master
before The emancipation freed him
came 10 Jarvis mills, triendlesS and
pennilcs', the heart Of tie proprietor
swelled with indignation at such in
justice, lilo was eloquent On the sub
ject, at home, and abroad, and won
dcred how any one could be so cruel
and selfish rs to commit such an ont =
rage against justice, He had called
HIM robber many time, but now
Donald Jarvis looked to himself very
much like the old slave holders T.
Massa Brown had taken the proceeds
of cufftc's labor for his own without
even q 'rhank yon' for il. True
when Cutlee cat he had given Inn
food, when he was sick he had given
him medicine, and he had clothed
him, toe, just as he himself thought
best. Mr.. Jarvis had married lov.
ing conscientious woman, and for FL
teen years had appropriated her labors
Her recompense had been food aud
clothes. such as he though. best tor
her. A little better than Cuffee's
perhaps, but the similarity Of the
cases did not please him. He had
expected his wife to be very grateful
for what he had done for her, but now
he wondered that she had not rebeIed
long ago. Had his life been mis-
takel Had his wife no more money or
liberty than Cuffec had in bondage I
Was Donald Jarvis no better than
Massa Brown?
His brain seemed to be in a mud.
die, and he looked so strangely that
his wife, anxious to break the spell,
took his arm, saying 'Let US go
home, dear, tea must be waiting for
U.s." lie took his hat in dreamy
way and they walked home in silence.
The children ran jcyourly to meet
them. The yard was so fresh and
green, and the flowers 50 many and
bright that he wondered he had never
thanked her Nettie tor them ALL
Hitherto he had looked upon them as
his, bat now. he felt his interest in
them was only a few dollars, that
would not amounted to anything |
without his wite's care. His children
were tidy and sweet, and everything
around and IN the house had that cher
ry look that rested him so after the
hard, dull day at the mill. They sat
again at the table, which had been a
source OF comfort and pleasure to him
so many years, and he wondered how
he could have enjoyed it so long with
out even thanEing the woman who
had provided it. True she had used
his money in bring It all about, but
how else could his money be OF nse 10
him? Who else would have turned it
into just what he needed day after
day for years7 And he began
to have an underlined feeling that
it took more than money to make a
home. He glanced at his wife's face
as he buttered his last slice of bread.I:
1t was lot that of the fair rosy bride
whom he had brought to the mills
years before. but at thst moment he,
realized that it was far dearer to him
for he knew that she had given the
rloom and freshness of her youth to
make his home what it was. His I
daughters had her rose leaf cheeks.
MS sons her youthful vitality, all had {
,er cheerful, winsome ways, and com. /
orted him now as she had in those 6
lays when, hardly knowing what care /
meant, she had lived tor him alone. ,
And rev thought came to him.
who was comforting her now when /
he had so much carei" Was that
rot what be promised to do when he
,rougbt her from her old home! He
,ghed as he thought how tar be had
lritted from her while holding her in
bOndageseqnal to Cuffee's. Nay, he
cit that her claims were far more
'iuding than any which had ever held U
he negro, and that his obligations to
Ter were so much greater. n
Something called the children out t