The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1881-04-27
LITTLE RUTH.
AN OLD MANS STORY.

know I was q selfish old idiot, now
when | look around me and see the mcr-
cies given me in my helpless oldage, feel
the warm love around mo on all sides,
and realize the dcsolation my own hand
reached forth to grasp but I was blind
to the future in those days when l 80
nearly wrecked all its happiness.
This was how it happened After Mar
tina died-my wife, l mean, with whom
forty happy years of my life were spent
and all my children were dead or mar
ricd, excepting Ruth, there fell upon me
the heavy misfortune that has chained
me to this chair, or my bed, for fifteen
weary years. / had beon q Woodworking
man all my life--a wheolwright by trade
with large family to rear, to clothe,
to feed, to educate, and, all me one by
one to bury in the old churchyard, 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 few
hard earned dollars, and left us for the
golden land of promise, California, and
only little Ruth was left us. Then the
angel of death came for Martha, and
only six months later was stricken help.
less with paralysis.
I am reconciled now to my hard fate,
and can sit here happily, glad that my
cvesight is still good, my right hand free,
and that have learned in my old age to
love books, to enjoy reading, and even
writing, as l never did in the hard-work-
ing days of my youth. But in those first
months of hclplcssness, when even to
toss and turn in my nervous torture was
denied me, my suflcrings were simply
horrible. No agony Of pain, no torture
of flesh or bone, could equal the dread
full pressure upon my strong limbs, that
held them motionless, dead, III spite of
my efforts to move them one little inch.
have tainted with the frightful efforts |
have made just to lift once the feet that
had carried me miles in day with I'M
wearied ease.
But even in that time Of rebellious
murmuring, Of bittercst rcplnin8, there
was some consolation. First, there was
the house and five acres of land, my very
own, free of debt or mortgage, and
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 other3 beside her father
thought her face the faircst one Tor 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
hcad-rebellious hair, that would never
lie straight under any coaxing, but kinked
ND in tangles that were full of sunlight.
Her skin was white as milk, with cheeks
like the heart of blush rose, and her
smile showed the prettiest rows OF pearly
teeth | ever saw.
She coaxed from me my wicked re-
pinings by coming to me for directions,
making me feel that 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
large back room that overlooked most of
the farm, and had Silas, our head man,
lift me up every morning and put me in
deep-c,lshiOned chair by the window,
where I could see the barn, the poultry
ward, the WELL and the fields of waving
corn and wheat She made me feel my
self of importance by giving me thus the
mastery over my own little domain; and
she brought up her own meals to eat
with me in the room where my infirmity
held me prisoner.
You must understand what Ruth was
to me, or you will never understand the
simple story I have set myself to telling
YOU She taught me to use my right