Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1883-08-09
daughter-in-law, found chaucer in his

overheard a chance word that made
her stay there for a while. Ewes
daughters CANNOT help their curiosity.
"Only half a one left" said Chau-
Ger.
"Oh," cried Martha, like feeble
moan, "I had a presentiment that it
would be SO, but maybe I'll be able to
do something this week. Can't you
finish it yourself?"
"I have tried" cried Chaucer, +" and
1 can't"
"Oh, now, am sure you can," said
Martha.
"Martha, when we went to school
and you used to write my compost
tions for me, you often said could do
them myself if tried. I tried once,
didn't 1? You remember how failed.
The subject was Honesty wrote
honesty is the best policy and after
that could not think of another word.
And, as for sermon-I have tried
and tried. I could do it no more than
could paint great picture. 1t is
the old folks fault; they would make
me preacher, and 1 have talent for
farming"
Poor Mrs. Alwyn behind the door
felt her hair raise up on her head under
her cap.
"What was all this? A dream, a
nightmare?" she asked.
She pinched herself. No, she was
awake, wide awake. No sleeping
woman was ever so wretched. What.
her Chaucer unable to write his SER
mons, and Insignificant Martha whom
she had thought his inferior writing
them for him? AS in a dream she
heard her son say:
"Well, Martha, darling, Ill try to
finish up extemporaneously. 1 can talk
better than 1 can write. And don't
fret"
"well, I will try, love, for baby's
sake. Just be brave, DEAR"
Then Chaucer stepped out of the
room, and Mrs. Alwyn rose like a
partly ghost at the daughter-in-law's
bed.
Martha" she painted. II heard it
all Isit true? Do you write Chaucer's
sermons for him?''
1t was a terrible moment for those
two women. Martha knew that evasion
was useless.
"Yes," she said, softly. "Poor,
dear Chaucer. I wish he had been
able to do it himself-but he was not,
and l was. I tried to write enough to
last until 1 was well; but had to give
it up. And oh, won't you please go to
church and see how he manages 2"
Mrs. Alwyn groaned, shook her
head, put on her shawl and bonnet,
and hurried up the road, putting on
her gloves. She sat in her pew, nerv
Gus. anxious and less tidy than usual.
until hymn and prayer were over, and
she heard the sermon commenced
From the first there was doubt in
Chaucer's eye and trouble in his voice.
At last he came to a sentence over
which he faltered.
my friends, I have but one more
remark to make-I feel"
Itwas there that Martha's trembling
hand had dropped the pen.
az feel,' repeated the pastor, vainly
trying to feel something. "I feel
and then he suddenly sat down and
put his handkerchief to his eyes.
The congregation looked at each
other. Churchwarden Jones, after a
PAUSE, went into the pulpit and led the
young clergyman down into the YES
try. In moment or two he announced
to the sympathizing occupants of the
pews that their pastor was too i'll
to proceed.
A hymn was given out and all went
| home, but many persons noticed that
the clergyman's mother, instead of offer
ing him solace in his sudden af1iction
trotted home alone, her bonnet strings
flying and her face very red
Of course everybody inquired how
Mr.. Alwyn was and how Mrs. Alwyr
felt. Old Mrs. Alwyn had one answer
for them all:
Gas well as can be expected"
No one ever learned the secret Of
that breakdown But, though Mrs
Alwyn wrote some more sermons, ant
Mr.. Alwyn preached them, it was moi
long before the latter retired from the
pulpit and became a scientific and prac
tical farmer, who could talk wei
enough about grass lands and cattle
turnips and apple trees. at the agricul
tural fairs.
As for Martha, she is to-day re
garded by her mother-inlaw as !;
woman of very superior mind.