The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1883-05-10
GYRuS, WIFE.


Sarah K. Bolton, In s. S. Times.
49,
CYRUS WIFE.
It rained that day-not itfully or quiet.
ly, but with a sullen determination and
doggedness. The sky was leaden, n the
wind blew about the house in stormy gusts,
driving before it flocks of wet, reluctant
caves from the elms and naples. From
the rain-blurred window nothing could be
seen but wildly-tossing boughs, flying
leaves and one old man crossing the or
chard in the tall drenched grass.
"Look, Lorraine said 1, ''here comes the
odd little old man who behaved so strangely
in church."
Lorraine left off striking aimless chords
on the piano, and came and looked over my
shoulder.
"What odd little old manT' she queried.
so, yes; it is poor old Uncle Cyrus. I
was going to tell you about him.. 1t is
quite a story"
For a moment we watched the man in
silence as he came toward us, his head bent
against the driving storm, his arms swing
ing heavily at his sides.
"He is coming here" said Lorraine. 81
suppose he wants some opium. You ave
no idea, Nell, how these country people
use opium. 1t is really horrible. We will
have him ill here by lie fire. You like odd
characters, and you never knew anybody
like poor Uncle Cyrus"
~ LOAAAOA AkSAN LAS oOOA vas RSAASo
timidly, and a high-pitched, ~quavering
voice said:
"Har'it tole me to walk right in. Hope 1
don't discommode nobodyW
"Come in" said Lorraine, kindly tive are
all alone"
He came in, a little, thin old man, with
restless pale-gray eyes, n a way of walk
ing as m walks in the darkness, moving
his feet ahead in an uncertain way, as if
expecting every moment to plunge into
Soma HORRIBLE olives HE c1in lilo GRO ayod
yellow parchment, the prominence of his
bones, the strange, drawn look of his feat
ures, the g~lassiness of his eyes, all were
signs of the confirmed opium-eater-signs
far too often seen among New England
country people. His arms were of unusual
length, and, powerfully developed by his
toll, gave him the odd look of q pygmy
wearing the arms of a giant"
doctor hain't ohome, he said, glancing
aboutthe roomin a nervous, ferretlike way.
80, ne, says you, doctor hain't to home.
Come in for suthin' to ease my rheumatic.
Wanted to git q leetle opium to hush the
pain q bit-only fur a med'cin', ye know.
You can sell it to me, says you; hev to
lrl jest wait a spell; he won't be long, a
YOU"
Having thus answered the questions
which no one but himself had asked, the
old man sank stifly into a chair, and spread
his great bony hands out to the blaze.
"Wal, wa" he cackled, 'got a fire, so ye
hev; cheerin' too, it is, now; axshally it is
eheerin'. Dismal spell of weather, say
you; am so tits, bless We, SO tits. I says to
Octavy, ter noon, says /, We're gofn' to hev
take. Keep up a god fire in the kitchen.
stove, or We'll both be rheumaticky, says I
70 Octavy."
SHOW is Octavia?' asked Lorraine.
"Octavy?' replied the old man. oval,
now, poor %critter, she's poorly mis'able,
ClnEo w @ cho &c nny No r0iSfoH0 dnnnn
rally, what hez allied Octavy this summer.
She's ben sort o'weakly now for a consider
BILE spell back. She don't pear to hev no
courage, some way, Octavy don't.
garden or her bees. Worked too
hard, says you, am so I tell her; but, Lord
bless We, it don't make no sorter difference.
She'll drop down some day in harness.
Always was a master-hand to work, says
you; am so she was"
The fire made q sudden, elfsh leap and
sent a bold red glow over the old mans
withered face.
ga righteous, good woman" he said,
looking steadily into the flames. "a
righteous, good woman, says you; am SO
she is, If ever there was one on the Lords
EARTH" He was silent a moment, then
added, " 1het's so; tibet is So"
After the doctor came home n the old
man had gone away with his opium
through the rainy twilight, I heard his
the fire.
He was never over-wise, poor Cyrus,
ever when he was young. His heart out
weighed his brain. He was, however, an
honest, fearless, hearty young fellow, and
the best smith for miles around. Almost
every country village has its legendary
Samson, who could lift a barrel of cider
and drink from the %bunghole. whether or
not Cyrus could do this is unknown; but it
Is certain that he could lift a keg of nails
with nna hand and carry If thr0rrOh tho
village.
He could sing, too-a mighty, unframed
bass-and it was in the village choir that
he first met Octavia Freeman, the daughter
Of a farmer who lived near the village.
She sang the part called counter" by the
China Valley people. She stood beside
Cyrus in the choir, and often shared with
him the thin, gr~een-coNered "'Cademy Col
lection" from which they sang Hebron
and Woodstock" and "Silver Street,
Octavia was what is called "a harnsome
grip in country places such as China
Valley-large and well made, with black
eyes, abundant hair and full red lips. As
for poor Cyrus, all the romance and poetic
fancy that existed in his slow brain cen.
tered about this girl and glorified her in his
sight. He walked often to see her over the
lonely river-road which led to the farm. He
carried her flowers and early red-and'
yellow apples from the little orchard be-
hind the forge. He took her to the menag
80 1A NAS oAAAAAS NNLAh ~ kNS SOAlAbJ 4oll
in the fall. He sat beside her at the weekly
prayer-meeting, and found her place in the
hymn-book with rugged brown hands made
tremulous and awkward by his love.
Cyrus should adore her. She was a rest
less, ambitious girl, who fretted at the
farm-life and its hopeless and monotonouI
drudgery. She longed for change ant
freedom, and thought that to marry Cyru.
Spears and be mistress of her own houst
was the best thing fate had offered her 81
far in life. Everybody called Cyrus
''likely." They had even begun II
come to him from Hollis Mills tt
ave their horses and oxen shod. Yes
adore her; but sometimes, while he founc
the hymn for her with stumbling eagerness
she would laugh at him behind her "Acad
envy Collection" with Maria Thayer, VIII
sang treble beside her in the choir.
One evenings warm, hushed evening
after a burning August day-Cyrus walked
out to see Octavia and found her oddly
silent and moody. She sat on the sunkel
door-stone, with her elbows on her knee
and her firm white chin resting in he
hands. She wore a pink cotton gown anC
q pair of gold ear-drops, shaped dix
little cockle-shells, that Cyrus had givel
her. He thought dimly that an angel Nigh
have looked as Octavia did just then.
''Tired-dear?" he asked, stopping besid
her. He made a little pause before h
called her "dear." Pet names come stiff,
from country tongues.
"Yes," said Octavia, duly. 81 be tired.
"Hed a hard day?" he ventured, sitting
down unbidden beside her; 'sharder'n com
mon, I mean?"
at amt that" replied Octavia "I'n
tired of it all, Cyrus-the farm, am tn
Che fields, am the cattle, an the spinnin'
an the dairy-work, am lynn awake night
with the rain patterin' on the shingles o
the ~night-hawks cryin' in the wood-1ot. l
amt the cork. Pm willin' enough to auork
IT'S the sGmeness of it all that Pm so tire
Of"
Cyrus pulled a tw1g from the syringa
bush beside the doorstep, and began t
<trip the leaves off. one bY one. nWal.nh