Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1883-06-22
ONE W0MAN'S LOVE.

"Don'tl'
Every one in that little group of chat
tering, go5sipping women looked up IN
surprise as this one word, with its sharp
ring of agony, cut through their shallow
talk. 1t was the weekly gathering OF
the Ladies' Aid Society, and as the fall
wave of prohibition had fairly inuE-
dated the village of H, the CONVEX
sation naturally turned upon the evils
of intemperance. With that satisfsc-
ton which many really good people
take in pointing out the rents in the
moral habiliments of their neighbors,
and philosophiziUg over the SORROWS OF
others, they talked of the misery drink
had brought upon various families in
their vicinity, and of what they would
do were they the wives of certain we'll
known followers of Bacchus. Even
pretty Mrs. Piper, whose young hus-
band was known to be II little fast,
Joined in this general criticism. To be
sure "Chawley" was lawfully silly
sometimes, when some particularly
good ~ company had led him to i'm
bibe too freely. But she would not
stand tiff he got real drunk. She would
go straight to pas. That's what she
would do. AT last the minister's wife,
ut whose house the society had met,
asked her daughter to read The Drunk
ards Home; and tears flowed fast at the
pathetic description Of the very woes
they had been witness of, without q
throb Of sympathy either for the poor
victims Of appetite or the loyal hearts
that still chung to them.
Sitting apart, apparently cngrosscd
in her work, was II woman on wGOso
fair features the angel of sorrow had
plainly been chiseling for many years
She took no part i'll the conversation
and no one observed the set, pale face
bent 30 pcrsistently over her sewing
1t was only hen some one spoke Of the
funeral of cold Zeke Lewis child" and
wondered how the mother could "take
on 80" that the white lips seemed forced
apart with the appeal with which this
story opens.
She met the questioning dances now
fixed upon her with II look half defiant
half apologize, and said: Pardon me
but there are a)rrows too sacred for
words. You cannot sound with pebbles
those awful ChasmB of human despair.
Only those who go over tho dark sides,
clinging desperately to the Jagged rocks,
falling ut last into tho depths, can tell
the agony. Let tho dead bury their
dead"
An awkward silence followed, until,
to the relief of all, tea was announced
after which the company dispersed
Mrs. True, who SO abruptly terminal
ed this flow of gossip, WAS the wife OF
the village physician. OF quiet, unob-
trusive demoanor, she had won the
esteem of all by her gentle ministra-
tions at the bed side of her husbands
patients. Young, beloved, prosp crous;
what could she know of heart. breaking
SORROW
And yet there was look i'll the dark
eyes-an indescribablo som ething about
the whole expression of the faCe-that
impression one with the feeling that
beneath that calm exterior tho crucihle
fires were steadily glowing.
While others arc busy with surmiscs,
we will look III upon her HI she sits in
her own room, i'll the gloom Of the
short autumnal twilight
She il bordering on the events of the
afternoon, vexed lest she has betrayed
the one weakness in the strong cable of
love that anchors all her woman's hopes,
and thinking with bitterness of the
christian charity" of the protested
followers of Him who said: Neither
do | condemn thee" Even the minister,
ut the funeral of the poor drunkarA's
child last Sabbath, took occasion to re-
mind the father rs he bent above the
cofhued form of his child, that unless
he turned from the error of his WAYS
he was bidding an eternal farewell to
his baby. She can see it all now-the
hard, defiant look coming into the face
of the mantle stricken mother.
whose form swaps helplessly rs she
sleeps To press the last kiss upon the
little face that was her one ray of sun
shine, then totters back to her seat by
the side of him upon whose strong arm
she should have leaned in such an hour.
And yet they say coldly, it was bless
ing this one hope WAS taken from them.
1t may be-nay, it must be, since He
willed it.
But what would they say if they
knew that the father of her own lost
darling was drunkard7 Aye, a drunk
ard; not, it is true, to be classed with
Zeke Lewis, for only 10 the heart that
1t should stab most cruelty was his
slavery TO the cvp revealed.
Five years ago Marian True came to
this little Western town, u young and
trusting bride. Her husband, being the
FIRST physician in the place, soon found
himself taxed to the utmost of his en-
dursace by his long rides over new
roads, and began TO take lust a little
liquor to keep the cold OUT" then q
little more 30 atone for the loss ofsleep:
and at last-could she ever forget it?-
rs she waited one cold, stormy night for
his return, she heard some one fumb-
ling at the door, and, though her heart
fairly stood still, she went brayely to
open 1t. As the light fell upon the face
she recognised her husband; but oh, SO
changed, Who shall describe the look,
sadder than death, where mind has lost
its Sway?
20 my God! Is this you, my hus-
baSd?'
"Ye-es, its me-" with silly, side
long leer and q vain attempt to stand
uprightly.) Then, as he fell headlong
into their cosy sitting room where she
had set out q tempting little lunch
against his return, she uttered groan
rs though her heart were breaking.
"What in thunder are you bellyach.
ing for nov! Amt here all right? You
act just as though you were sorry l
came. Guess you were expecting some
one else tonight"
Before this burst of drunken frenzy
was fairly over he began to breathe
heavily and soon lay in british slum-
Der, rerulsive, breathing corpse.
This was the first Of many such nights
during which the fsithfulwife watched,
answering all calls, aad turning away
the more imperative ones to seek some
other help as her husband was sick and