Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1881-04-20

was an infant at her breast, and the
long gone echo is still sweet in her ears.
OF course he does, though, that is I'M
dcr7tnod, as some words are in a we'll
constructed sentence. But o! what a
strange, sweet thrill would go through
many a wife's breast, though she be
neither Young nor handsome, and
poor, aud unrefned, if that soft re-
frain, Il love you" would again greet
her ears from lips once so lavish in
their protestations of affection! Do
Won men never think of this Or,
thinking, do they put it from them as
a sentiment unworthy maturity and a
waste of foundless on the object under
consideration
When the leaves fell that Autumn
Lillian Grey left the old homestead, the
happy bride Of man in every respect
worthy of her love, and well off for
this worlds bounty. Perhaps it was
the sweetest drop in Miriam Grey's
cup Of existence when she saw her
thus happily mated, and knew that
for her hearts darling there were not
the bitter years Of drudgery in store
that had been her mothers portion.
Such is the love of mother. The
other children were boys. They
would, at least, never tread in her own
troubled footsteps. After her daugh-
RS marriage the unmitigated burden
OF the care Of the whole house fell
upon her already shrinking shoulders.
Ii husband did not notice that her
step grew each day little slower and
more irresolute; that she stopped lit
tie clover over the wash-board and iron
ing-table; or that her nights were
often vexed with pains and aches, that
were in themselves the advance guard
Of the oncoming forces of disease and
dissolution. But the time came when
the unwelcome truth was forced upon
him. that a girl was needed to assist
in the household cares-an original
idea that had not before occurred to
him. aud one that found expression
only when Miriam Grey was prostrat-
ed on a bed of sickness, from which it
was doubtful if she would ever rise
again. The slow Winter months
dragged by. and it was not till early
Spring that she was able to sit at the
board and take her meals with the
rest of the family.
The long fever had left her, but in
its stead, as an equivalent, remained
II hacking, wearing cough, that sound
ed hollow and terrible in the bleak
Spring nights, when she sat up alone
from sheer inability to lie down and
share the untroubled repose of her
husband. What were her emotions,
what her visions, retrospective and
prospective. in those midnight
watches' God alone knows. Per-
haps the thoughts Of not-distaut day
of emancipation were in themselves
compensatory for loss of slumber.
] have only told you of one year Of
life. the last. saddest year, in which
Miriam Grey finished her work. Again
it is Spring, again the Spring sun
shine floods the heavens with translu-
cent glory, again the sweet airs find
their wav into the kitchen wind ows
at farmer Grey's. but Miriam Grey is
not there at her post. A funeral
"ortege winds mp the hillside, the
fresh, green earth opens its arms to
another weary child. There are heard
the old familiar sounds of weeping
and lamentation from Lillian Grey
and her orphaned brothers, and they
| 60 away, and the churchyard gate is
closed, and the birds resume their
nest-building in the trees that wave
above the grassy mounds. The shack
les have fallen off from the weary
limbs; FOR the sleepless nights and
days of hurrying toll the blessed Sleep
er shall find abundant paration, for
here Gle giveth His beloved sleep.
And John Grey? He will miss her,
Of conrse-the tears that fell from his
eyes have at least the virtue of SINGER
ity though they be few in number.
1t is a mysterious dispensation of
Providence-at least so says the min
lister, and he must submit. 1t does
not occur to him that he goaded her
on with whip and spur Of unremitted
toll, till the overweight machinery
gave away, and Death, the great
emancipation, asserted his prerogative
in terse language. He does not know
that he killed her! Query: Are the
sins of ignorance all to be winlxed at 7