Turner County herald. (Hurley, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1883-05-24
into the woodshed, aud the house was

into the woodshed, aud tho house was
still again.
In a little while the trousers were
mended, but the overturned contents of
The upset work-bhsket fairy appalled,
her as she contemplated the promiscu-
GUS pile-socks out at toes and heels and
ragged in the ribbing; shirts, minus but.
tons, with sleeves torn at the elbows,
and wristbands frayed at the edges:
jackets with Innings torn and pockets
worn into sbreds, more trousers, n torn
mitten, two school books to cover, an a
lunch-bag to supply with new strap.
1t was almost supper time, too, and this
was Saturday,
Mrs. Harcourt was far too conscien-
tious to do any work ON Sunday that
could be avoided, and all this amount of
easy, irresponsible work" must be fin.
ished before she could sleep.
Monday would bring another school
day, and it would also bring about the
inevitable washing. The children ssmust
look like other children" if their mother
lost her life in the effort to keep them
scrubbed and fed and whole and clean.
Mrs. Harcourt tiptoed softly out of the
room.
Inc baby Was nervous, like herself
no wonder poor thing-and was easily
awaken. led from its fitful slumbers.
mere was no kindliDg wood for the
!, Kitchen stove, but Mrs. Harcourt was
used to that. She split piece of pitch
pine into spliuters and soon had roaring
fire and red-hot oven. In her haste to
prepare the meal before the baby should
awake and cry. she burnt her meat and
scorohed her potatoes and burned a
heavy crust on her buscuit.
So the supper was indigestible-an
unusual thing-but Harry ate heartily
and as usual retired early to rest, leav-
ing his pale-faced wife to wash the
dishes and scrub the children, and after
they were safe in bed, apply herself to
finish the huge basket of mending be-
fore the mantle clock should chime the
hour of midnight.
Harry Harcourt felt little anxious
and trihe mean as he watched her fur
lively and saw how very pale and weary
she was; but he was not the man to un-
bend from his fancied dignity, nor did
he really believe that his wife deserved
his sympathy. He lay upon his back in
the bedroom adjoining leaving the door
slightly ajar.
fingers of his pale-faced wife, SIS the
hours went on, her feet IN the meantime
keeping up ceaseless rock, rock, rock,
with tie swaying cradle.
Harry Harcourt was uneasy. Perhaps
it was his supper, perhaps it was his
conscience. But his stomach and his
conscience were alike impervious to ordi-
nary disturbances, and [ leave the rea-
der to guess the cause of his uneasiness.
He raised up on his elbow and gazed
out into the room where his wife was
sewing.
Stitch, stitch, stitch; rock, rock, rock.
Would the stitching and rocking never
stop?
"But pshaw!' thought Harry Har-
court "What right have | to be un-
easy? A womaD's work is nothing. Let
her stitch and let her rock. It's what
women are made for"
Still he could not help reclining there
and watching her.
| The clock struck eleven, and still her
| oilSAo, WShis "oih WcuU VI thtt, no
Harry Harcourt gazed, he fancied that
her entire brain and body became trans
parent, and could see himself reflected
in her thoughts as he had never seen
himself before. Yes, yes" she solilo-
quised. aud her mental thoughts thrilled
his like electricity, Harry thinks he is
the head of this family, and its only
provider, stay and support, But bless
him, he doesn't know. | guess I'll re-
tire from the firm and give him much.
needed lesson.
And she bent low over the cradle and
kissed the sleeping baby, and even while
| he gazed at her she disappeared.
What had become of her?
Harry Harcourt arose from his couch
and put ON his clothes and approached
the cradle reverently and cautiously.
Near it was her low rocking chair, and
by Its side the heaped-up work basket,
and her scissors, spool and thlmble. On
the floor which was yet damp from the
after supper mopping it had received
when the children and himself were in
bed, lay promiscuons array of old
clothes, washed, ironed, patched and
mended by her patient fingers. Hi
gathered up the worn garments one by
one, and as he touched them, felt thai
they were warm with the wasted life
forces of his pale faced wife.
The night passed away, morning rose
ate and radiant beamed in at the cur
tanned window where Harry Harcourt sal
watching. The baby awoke and Legan its
usual walllng cry. He tried hard to pa.
city 1t with the nursing bottle his wife
had provided the night before. but it re-
fused to be comforted. He remembered
seeing its mother shake it intoa few extrf
screams, followed by season OF quiet
ude, but when he tried the experiment
it did not succeed.
The older children were up by this
time, clsmoring and hungry and cold
He knocked them to the right and left
with his open hands and scolded then
into trembling silence.
where's my mamma ?"
The unanswcrable question was re