The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-11-08

ana brave, anu 10 nelp me III my trOuDIe.
shall have to 90, my darling, and will
go like man."
eyes. jack" I sobbed, piteously,
"you shall go like my brave, true hus.
band; but oh, Jack, it is $3.50 verv
hard"
Don't make it harder for me, my
darling" he whispered. Don't = for
Gods sake, don't"
| It seemed to come to me then that it
was my duty to try and help and COM
fort him, and dashed away the tears
and held his hand in mine, as I laid my
head against his breast.
I'm going to be strong, Jack, whis-
pered. II won't make it harder for you
to go and-and-oh, Jack-Jack!"
And then 1 got over it again, and tried
to be cheerful, when had had my cry
out, and chatted and laughed about how
we would get on till he came back. And
he laughed and chatted, too, and said.
that the government would take care of
me and the little ones, and that they
would soon polish off the Egyptians.
"Well spoil EN-. my girl" he cried,
land I'll soon be back again"
"But you won't have to 60 yet, Jack,"
said, with my voice shaking, in spite
Of all could do.
Eyes, dear" he said, directly. I
shall be warned tomorrow, you'll see."
He was, AID the next day he had left
his work, the good byes were said, and
he had gone, looking as bright and
eager as could he, while laughed, and
held up the children for him to kiss, and
he told them father would soon be back,
and treated it just as if he was going for
holiday. Then we saw him into the
train--saw him leaning out. waving
his capy to me till the went around
the curve, the little ones waving their
handkerchiefs, and looking as happy as
could be. till he was out of sight, and l
looked happy, too, till our eldest girl
turned her little face up to me, and
saw her pretty lips tremble, and her face
work, as she cried out all at once:
II don't want poor father to 60
How could / keep calm then? You,
who think of those who are dear, and
who have husbands, sons and brothers
forced to fight for their country, tell me
that? I know that it is their duty, and
that it must be done. That is the same
with the highest as with the lowest in
the land. No, not quite. 1t is terrible
hard that the men of the reserve should,
in so little quarrel, be obliged to leave
the homes they have made, their steady,
regular work, and wives and children at
home in penury and misery. One week
the father is earning his good wages and
bringing them home; the next week he
is gone, and the unhappy woman who
shares his lot is no longer the prosperous
workman's wife, bnt the poor wife of the
81, IN lrun ha
scanty pay that she receives. The
situation the reserve man held is for
feited at once, and besides the black
outlook of poverty in the winter to come
for what can a woman With little chill
dren do to earn her bread?-there is the
never-ceasing, weary hours, and watch
ing and waiting for news. The tele-
grams Of fights arrive. Only trihing
skermish." the papers say, Our losses
very small" but there is always list OF
killed and wounded for wife, sister or
mother to read with swimming eyes, to
see if he whom she loves is there.
mot this time" she CRIES, with a
burst of joy, unless-yes. unless he be
one of the missing THAT may turn up
That may turn up. when all the time he
may be lying wounded on the burning
sand. tell you that night after night
lie awake, seeing my poor fellow with
glazing eyes and whitened lips fainting
in the terrible heat, and seeming to ask
me for water to quepch his thirst. Then
I have seen him lying on o stretcher,
carried by four comrades to the rear. At
one time it will be with his face gashed.
aud dreadful look of agony as he turns
his head from side to size. At another
time have seen him carried in with his
face covered over. so l cannot see it, but
I know it is he; and l have felt the cold
sweat trickle from my brow Is l have
lain trembling and sick at heart.
Dreams and fancies, you will say; but
who that has loved one at the war can
help such fancies-drRms? l have
fought and tried-I have knelt and
prayed for strength. end the strength
has come; but there are times when my
agony seems greater than l can bear.
He Was gone to do his duty. as thous-
ands Of our brave fellows have gone be-
fore, and We whom they have left behind,
We soldiers wives, will do our best to
keep hope alive, and patiently bear our
lot but tor those Who, like myself, are
80 suddenly left adrift-struggling with
out the husbands protecting arm-ought
not the country, which We are told is
grateful, do q little more? The Reserve
man should not marry, you will say; but
is this Just? After years Of toll, ready ut
any time to risk his life in the country's
cause, has he not earned his rest? Surely
YOU will ovn he has, and that he does no
- 4 n L