Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1882-06-03

UVVAuS o.cuAM ana h0nfy put STICK across
| the top, which held his saddla fastened some
sticks 70 the legs Of the single bedstead and
made It high f0ur-pogter; and around thu
hung cheap canopy and fred some nails In.
SIDE and used It - wardrobe, except when vs
At this moment the birds made such tumult
| OF noisy music as quite to interrupt and suppress
conversation. The birds i should explain. were
some thirty or forty in humber. md nlled big
cages In the great bay window Of the room
South American species, several Of them Ane
singers and most Of them prettily marked and
OF brilliant plumage Two largo and elaborate
buffets, filing the entire end Of the room, were
| laden with rare and precious sets Of china,
porcelain and other choice wares. ''These We
have saved from the wreck" said Mrs. Beecher;
these and the birds, With birds and flowers
about us We can be content; not happy, of
course, az we were in Lawrenceburg, for then
we were together all the while, except when
fire there, while was getting away the Sunday
breakfast dishes. When he had written some
thing in the other room, he would whistle, and
would run in, with my hands covered with
soap suds or dough. very likely, and kneel
through 1t again."
"How did your husbands preaching strike
you then as compared with that Of his later
years."
"Wel. I can see that he has grown and broad
ened Of course. I was rather partial, perhaps,
| hut his sermons were satisfying, even then. He
was always personally popular and he carried
about with him the same hopeful, CHEEKY, breezy
manner that has since won. for him so many
friends. He
SEEMED LIKE A BOY
then, and he is full of boyishness even now, he
gether."
81 vox1g
"At the end of two years we went to Indianap-
oils. He declined calls to different places. but,
on receiving the second or third call from the
Indianapolis church, he laid 1t before the synod
and, on its advice. accepted. His salary. which
had been $500 year, now became 5000; but we
had no more than befOre-rather less. For on
the one hand, our regular expenses were larger,
and on the other he was the city min
| lister, and was expected to entertain the
country parsons. Those were years of struggle.
Many time have I set up all night at the par
sonage in Indianapolis and made shirt and
washed and ironed It, and sold it in the morn
ing to get money enough to buy food for the
hard but it was not hardship. enjoyed it. Yet
| l wasn't well. was sick, Chills and fever got
hold Of me and shook me half to pieces. When
went home to Massachusetts,, after four years
absence, my family did not know me-
my mother said when went in: You want
| to see the doctor! The doctor is out, but will
be in soon. Won't you sit DOWN. When she
found out who was she said: Don't tell your
father; see If he will know your
And when father came in he said: Good
| morning, madam; do you wish to see me7 Yeu
| look as II you needed doctor. What can do
for your / said earnestly: well, should think
you might kiss mel He was shocked, and he
| spread out his hands and exclaimed Madanll
what proposition! Then mother laughed and
| introduced US.
But those were good times in Indianapolis
| country ministers, shirt making, economizing.
| chllls and fever and all. For Henry's exacting
public life had not yet come to defraud me. Hap
piness does not depend on money, or leisure, or
society, or even on health; it depends on our
relation to those we love. When l got here to
Brooklyn the public began to get my husband
| away from me. His study was no longer in the
house, but in the church. And when he went
out ! used to gasp for breath and my eyes
would I'LL with tears, for it seemed as if
WE HAD QUARRELLED.
He couldn't help it, of course. No woman
| ought to marry man on whom the public has
| strong claim-a popular minister, or great
| lawyer, or politician unless she has explicit
| ambitions Of her own and is willing to immerse
| herself in society,""
She fastened to the bay window and looked
| out No! That was not he. she said, but she
was looking for him every minute now What
lovely day he had In the country!
'You asked me about Lawrenceburg," she
said, land l have been led into long talk. You
are journalist, and have little reason to have
much confidence in gentlemen of your profes-
| sion. Be discreet, beg Of you, in what YOU
| say. Leave out all that would not look well in
| print But should be glad to say ANYTHING
that could help the little flock at Lawrence
| burg"
have obeyed the injunction. have omit
ted all that did not seem to belong to the pic
| ture and have, l am sure included nothing
| that the lady need regret. The story seems
| more OF a mOnOlOgue. of course than 1t would
| If my own part in the conversation were not
properly omitted as being no part of the nara
tive. Mrs. Beecher is wonderfully vivacious
| and agreeable lady. She has seen trouble She
has borne 10 children. and lost six With her
| square, prominent forehead, and deep-sunk
| eyes, she seems 10 when her face is in repOse:
but in animated conversation she looks not
more than IS or 49, She has q distinguished
face and manner, and even those who have
doubted Mr.. Beecher's rectitude must admit
that only very remarkable man could win and
| retain for lifetime the love of such q woman
| Love Without Regard to Expenses.
From the Chicago Tribune.
"Myrtle, dear?"
eyes, George, what is it?" replied the girl
glancing shyly upward.
The radiant glory Of summer moon shone
down upon the earth this June night, bathing in
all its mellow splendor the leafy branches of the
sturdy old oaks that had for centuries shaded
| the entrance to Castle McMurty and laughed