The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1883-04-05
AN IOWA GIRLS STORY.

IL was In farm house on our Yves.
tern prairie that the story came to me-
in the golden, glorious month of October
Mine host, Mr.. c., was a hard-work.
ing successful farmer of middle.age
Ills father had owned and cultivated the
land before him, and had followed biz
VIE to "the long home" some ten years
before. A younger unmarried brothe,
lived with them, and the brothers owned
and worked the farm together. Over
many an acre Of wheat their reapers
went; many a cornfeld laughed with
every breeze that rippled over it, and
fine cattle stood knee-deep in the creek
or browsed peacefully on the hill.
slopes.
"a well-to-do farmer. How much
that suggests of plenty, comfort and in
dependence! And all that can surround
farm life with beauty and content seemed
lnc!uded in the picture of those Indian
summer days. The large white farm
house was full Of quiet life; the cool din
lng-room, the sunny kitchen, the great
pantry and dairy beyond, the sitting
room, and long hall opening into tie
broad, vine-shaded porch, the parlor
with its closed blinds and doors. and the
bedroom back OF the parlor, with its
oldfashioned bedstead and bureau.
CLOTHES press, and open fire. Here it
was my story came to me. Mrs. c.
was q pale, quiet little woman, looking
always very tired. Not so much tired
from work or care as from sorrow. She
must have been very pretty in her girl.
hoodLthe gentle beauty of clear
complexion, and soft eyes
and hair,-but she looked
prematurely old. Nor was it that either
but an indescribable, heart-hunpry.
CALLED look: look never found On
mems faces, and often misunderstood in
q Woman's face. The more see of wes-
tern country life, the more often find
it settled on the faces of farmers wives.
She ha good, reliable help, and h er hus
band was very thoughtful of her in his
great, strong, clumsy way; but the house
was very quiet, save at meal-time, for no
children gladdened it with noisy merri-
nent.
When, three weeks before, a SUNNY
room up stairs, with plenty of quiet for
rest, Al q the cream and honey" that
can be found only in the country, had
was sill presiding at the table, and Or
dering the ways Of her household; but
a long rest. To sleep and sleep like a
child. All, how many of us need to
sleep the sleep of childhood again. I
wished that might Get
near to her and her woman's
heart, for there was that about her
qulctness which made my heart ache for
her. But she seemed always busy, 90
Ing from dairy to fruit-room, and back
again; only noticed as the DAYS went
by she went oftener to her own room to
rest. Her husband said one, morning.
as we gathereda out the breakfast table.
and she asked him incidentally if he
would send her one >ee the men to pick
grapes:
DO let the grapes 90 to-day, Minnie2
You may better lose them dozen times
ov. than make yourself sick. wish
yo'l wouldn't work so hard!"
And she looked up in that weary, sup
r-essed way: "What is there to do but
work? I cannot sit with folded hands.
cannct play like child" And each
day found her little caler and NOR.
quiet; the sorrowful curves to her lips
more dropping.
came across Mr.. C-one late after
noon near the brook. He had been
mendlng piece in the bridge that span
ned 1t, and we spoke Of the Fall rains
and the Overlooking harvest, nearly
gathered. Then mentioned his wife
"She hardly seems .s we'll to-day. Has
she not consumption or some local trou-
bic? Have You no fear?"
Il ~ h.
slowly. great shadow creeping over his
no consumption in her family. The doc
tor cannot seem to help her any; she
says she feels no pain; but, though she
will see to things round the house Just
the same, can see she grows weaker.
The fact is, she has not been the same
since We buried the baby. Our three
lie together on the hillside yonder," and
he nodded his head in that direction.
Then his eyes wandered to tho roof and
gables that sheltered her, as they stood
ort. over the brow of the hill. and he ad
dec, II AIN a!::aid 60: s sc:cs to lose he1
and III can't seem to help it either!"
His voice choked little, the team came
along; he turned to his men, and I to
finish my walk, A week later she was
unable to leave her room.
went into the old fashioned bed
room to see her one night, after our
early tea. She was lying with closed
eyes, and feared to disturb her; but
she looked up so sweetly that / drew q
rocker to the side of her bed, and asked
her if there was anything that could
do. She shook her head gently anC
asked me If was not lonesome in Their
quiet life: l told her, ''No indeed! Thu
quiet and fresh air, and absence of ex
element. are luxury to me. T.len
have so much reading I want to do"
s'Ah, yes," she sighed, s'when I wa
married l longed to read, but there va
no time. l sometimes think shall
never read again."
though of the thinking that went OF
day after day, and alas. night after night
and trem5led for her reason. Thel
something prompted me to break tn
pause that followed by saying, "Yo
must miss the little ones the dear Go,
has taken from you, very much" and
was sorry the next instant, for q grea
spasm of pain swept across her face; bu
with it had learned the secret of he
WEAKNESS. She said with evident effort
Il have not been strong since bah
came and went. And must get we'll
there is s. much to be done before win
tersets in" She opened her eyes
brown eyes they were-and I though
Of Alice Cary's lines:
"Her sick soul aweary with waiting
Came up to look out Of her eyes"
Jenny, the dairy-maid came in for som
directions, and I went up stairs wit
that look haunting me. A few days late
she was feverish and decidedly worse.
Il wish you'd go in and see her,
you wouldn't mind" her husband said
as II inquired for her as usual after sur
per. Then, instead of putting on hi
broad brimmed hat aud following hi
brother to the barns, he took it off agai
and 6uessed tho rim slowly. I waited