Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1881-05-14
LITTLE RUTH.
An Oh MANS story

l. KNOW l. WAS SGIlISil Olu lulOL,
now, when l look around me and
see the mercies given me in my
helpless old age, feel the warm love
around me on all sides, and realize
the desolation my own hand
reached forth to grasp; but I was
blind to the future in those days
when | SO nearly wrecked all its
happiness.
This was how it happened: After
Martha died my wife, | mean,
with whom forty happy years of
my life were spent-and all my
children were dead or marrie9g eX-
cepting Ruth, there fell upG me
the heavy misfortune that has
chained me to this chair, or my
bed, for fifteen weary years. 1 had
been a Woodworking man all my
life-a wheelwright by trade-with
IA large family to rear, to clothe, to
feed, to educate, and, ah me! one
by one to bury in the old church.
yard, till only Mary, James and
Ruth, our baby, were left to me.
Mary married, and went with her
husband to the far West. James
took his small fortune of a few
hard-earned dollars, and left US for
the golden land of promise, Califor-
MIA, and only little Ruth was left
us. Then the angel of death came
for Martha, and only six months
later / was stricken helpless with
paralysis.
am recOnciled now to my hard
fate, and can sit here happily, glad
that my eyesight is still good, my
right hand free, and that l have
learned in my old age to love
books, to enjoy reading, and even
writing, as ! never did in the hard
working days of my youth. But in
those first months of helplessneSs,
when even to toss and turn in my
nervous torture was denied me, my
sufferings were simply horrible. No
agony of pain, no torture of flesh or
bone, could equal the dreadful pres
sure upon my strong limbs, that
held them motiOnless, dead, in
spite of my efforts to move them
one little inch. / have tainted
with the frightful efforts l have
made just to lift once the feet that
had carried me miles in day with
unweared ease.
But even in that time of rebellous
murmuring, of bitterest repining,
there was some consolation. First,
there was the house and five acres
of land, my very own, free of debt
or mortgage, and a small sum in
the bank, the interest of which
lifted us above actual want. Then
[ had Ruth.
She was just twenty when her
mother died, and others beside her
father thought her face the fairest
one for miles around, She had the
bluest eyes, like the little patches of
summer sky, and hair that was the
color of corn silk, and nestled in |
little baby curls all over her head
rebelliouS hair, that would never
lie straight under any cOaxing, but
kinked up in tangles that were full |
of sunlight. Her skin was white as
milk, with cheeks like the heart of
a blush rose, and her smile showed |
the prettiest rows of pearly teeth /
ever saw.
She coaXed from me my wicked |
by coming to me for di-
rections, making me feel thai my |
head was still needed to direct the
work, though my feet would never
more carry me over the doOr-sill. |
Then she fitted up for me a large |
back room that overlooked most of
the farm, and had Silas, our head
man, lift me up every morning and
put me in a deep-cushiOned chair
by the window, where | could see
the barn, the poultry-yard, the
well, and the fields of Waiving corn
and wheat. She made me feel my
self of importance by giving me
thus the mastery over my own lit
tie domain; and she brought up her
own meals to eat with me in the
room where my intirmity held me
a prisoner.
You must understand what Ruth
was to me, or you will never under
stand the simple story have set
myself to telling you. She taught
me to use my right hand without
my left and if you want to appre-
ciate the difficulty, tie your left arm
down for one single hour, and try
how often it will uncOnSciOuSly
strain at the cords. She brought
me books from the village library,
and opened to my old eyes and
brain a field OF pleasure never be-
fore explored. / had read my
Bible and the newspapers all my
life, but / never even knew the
names CT books, how my greatest
till Ruth thought "read-
ing would be company" for me.
Little Ruth, even she does not
know the world she peopled for me
in her loving care for my loneli-
ness.
When she was busy about her
her baking, her wash
ing and ironing, she left all the |
doors standing open, that / might |
still hear her CHEEKY voice as she
sang or talked to me. Then, when
all her work was done, she would |
put clean white apron over her
black dress, and sit close beside me,
busily on the household |
linen, while read aloud whatever
had most pleased me in my morn
ing studies.
She devised little dainty dishes
to tempt me to eat; she put saucers
of flowers on my table, that / might |
L