The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1883-09-20

nounced before service Sunday morn.
ing that Mrs. David Somers would give
q reading in the church edifice on
Thursday evening; admission twenty.
five H6nts. Proceeds to be applied to-
ward the church debt.
Again there was a breezy stir in the
congregation, and scores of eyes were
turned upon Dawes wife, who sat in her
silent. white composure, with her dark
eyes lifted TO the face of the elergy=
man.
But Sarah taRs Graves could hot
help Noticing a. she had not before the
marked change in the. young wife,,s
face since the day She entered that
church 4 bride;
is unhappy" she thought.
Thursday night came fair and clear.
As Deacon Somers had predicted, the
announcement that Dawes wife was
to give a reading had drawn d house;
the church was literally packed. Dawes
wife rose before her audience with no
words of apology or introduction, and
began the recitation of the old, hack.
neyed, yet eve beautiful
'CurPew shall not ring Tonight" So
1t was new to most Of the audience,
and certainly the ntanndf Of its delivery
Was new to them. They forgot them
selves, they forgot their surroundings,
they forgot that it was Dawes wife who
stood before them. They were alone
in the belfry tower clinging with bleed
ing hands to the brazen tongue of the
bell as it swung to and fro above the
deaf old janitor's head, When the
recitation was finished two or three of
the audience found themselves on their
feet. How they came there they never
knew, and they sat down with a sharae-
faced expression.
Sarah Jane Graves was in tears, and
one or two others wiped their eyes fur
lively, and then the old church walls
rang with cheers. So soon as they SUBJ
sided Dawes wife arose, and, with a
sudden change of expression and voice,
began to give a recital of "An Evening
at The Quarters" II was a negro dia-
lect, and introduced one or two snatches
of song and a violin air. To the as
constituent of her audience Dawes wife
picked up a violin at the appropriate
time, and played the air through in
perfect time and tune; and then the
house resounded to another round of
cheers, and the entire audience was
c~onvulsed with laughter. Everything
which followed. grave or gay, pathetic
or absurd, vas met with mods of ap-
proval, or the clapping of hands and
the drumming of feet. Somerville had
never known such an entertainment be-
fore. The receipts for the evening
proved to be over forty dollars.
During the next three months Dawes
wife gave two more readings, the pro-
ceed5 Of which paid half the church
debt, and this so encouraged the men,
bers that old grudges and quarrels
were forgotten, and Deacon Bradlaw
and the elders made up the remaining
half, and Somerville Church was free
from debt.
Yet Deacon Bradlaw was heard to
say that while he was glad and grateful
for all that Dawes wife had done, he
did not in his heart approve of turning
the house of God into a .'theater."
''She performed exactly like them
women whose pictures are in the store
winders in town." he said, 'sa-makin'
everybody laugh OIL cry with their
monkey.shines. 1 don't think it a
proper way to go on in the house of
God. Never would hev given my con
sent to it eff I'd known what sort of
entertainment it was to be-"
"Dave's wife ever been an actressph
he asked Deacon Somers when they
next met.
"Actress? No. What put that into
your head?" answered Deacon Somers,
with SOME spirit.
''Oh, nothin', nothin'; only her
realms seemed a powerful sight like
a theater 1 went to once. Didn't know
but she been on the stage; it's gettin'
fashi'nable nowadays. Anyway, she's
missed her calm. Wait a minute,
neighbor; don't hurry off so. Iwant to
talk church matters"
Cant" responded Deacon Somers,
whipping up his horse. "Dave's wife
is sick in bed, and l came to the store
to git a few things for her-bitters and
some nourishing things to eat. She's
sort o. run down with the exertion she
made in them readin's. She used to be
just drippin' with pe%rspiration when
she got home"
Dawes wife was ailing for months,
unable to do more than sit in her room
and paint an hour or two each day.
The house was filled with her paint.
ings. They ornamented brackets, and
stood in corners, and peeped from the
folds of fans, and smiled from Dawes
china c~ofee-cup.
One day Dave proposed to his wife
that she should go to her old home
the home of her guardian-and make
a visit.
"We've been married fifteen months
now" he said, ''and you've never been
away. 1 think a change will do you
good. You seem to be running down
every day"
So she went. After an absence OF
ten days she wrote to Dave to send hel
paintings to her by express. She had
need of them; would explain when she
returned. Dave packed them careful.
ly, and sent them with a sigh.
Poor Dave. He had come to realize
that his marriage was a great mistake.
To be sure, he loved Madge yet, but
the romance of his youthful attach.
ment had all passed away in the dull
commonplace routine of his domestic
life, where Madge had proved such an
inefficient helpmeet.
He had been blindly in love with his
divinity; elated with the fact that he
had won her away from two or three
other suitors. Madge was a brilliant
scholar and a belle, and with the blind
faith of young love, Dave had believed
that she would excel in domestic duties
as in intellectual pursuits. Her igno.
minious failures, her utter uselessness,
and his mothers constant and indis.
putable references to her inefficiency
about the farm work, had presented hel
to his eyes in a new light. The bril-
liant girl who was the pride of the col.
lege, and the helpless, thriftless wife
whose husband was regarded with pity
by a sympathetic neighborhood, were
two distinct individuals as were also
the young elocutionist carrying off the
honors of her class, and the tired, tear
full woman weeping over her soggy
bread and melted butter.
The success in her readings had re
vived his old pride in her for a time
d. L.. s1,.1, 81 &zz.