Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1883-11-22

be so troubled again to-day" said the
true wife, as her trembling fingers
slowly tore aside the envelope
Was she mistaken? Surely it was a
check on - Bank, and for three
hundred dollars. Three hundred dol
lars! How it would tighten their bur-
dens, how it already lightened the poor
little wife's heart! Bessie wondered
how she transacted her business with
Mrs. Wilton; how she could listen and
answer intelligibly IS to box-plaiting
and tailor-finish, or decide between the
merits of plush bands or satin pipings.
when she was so eager to rush home
and tell Walter of the good news. And
once or twice she was obliged to look
again at the check to convince herself
it was not "fairy gold.'' But before
she had reached their door she was
calm enough to enter quietly as usual.
She went up to Walters chair, kissed
him, and put the envelope in his hands.
He opened it, looked at the check, then
at his wife, and said:
You are right, my Bessie. yet
have | not seen the righteous forsaken,
nor his seed begging bread l feel as
if this must be for Ethel and you; 1 do
not deserve it,
"From sister Catherine. too" he
added, pointing to the postmark which
Bessie, in her excitement, had not no.
ticed.
-
Such warm, coy room as it was!
The autumn sunshine came in through
the east and south windows, dancing
over the soft, gay carpet, as if to test
its brightness with the glowing flame in
the great old-fashioned Franklin stove.
Perhaps the chairs and tables stood u
trifie primly in their places, but not a
speck or spot was to be found on their
polished surfaces; and you might have
turned every picture on the wall, and
searched in every corner, but neither
dust nor cobweb would have met your
inquisitive eye. A pleasant, sunny
room was Mrs. Catherine Allison's sit
ting-room. But that small, old lady,
who lay on the sofa in the warmest
corner of the room, had little of sun
shine about her. A fretful experience
shone in her sharp, dark eyes, and the
lines about her thin lips were not pleas
ant. The other lady, also elderly, who
sat opposite Mrs. Allison, seemed more
in keeping with the surroundings.
Peace was written all over the fair,
placid face, in the kindly eyes, the firm,
sweet mouth, the faded, wrinkled hands,
now knitting with the unhurried grace
which belongs only to the aged. Mrs.
Eunice Foster seemed an impersonation
of the calm autumn day without.
cts three weeks to Thanksgiving,
she said as she counted the stitches on
her seam needle.
Mrs. Foster made this brief remark
in half apologize tone, as if she rath-
er expected to be contradicted, or called
to account in some way for her state
ment: for Mrs. Allison was in the habit
of differing from other people at first,
whether she was of their opinion or not.
But at present she was too much occu-
pied with her own grievances to dissent
as she usually did.
'Well, must say don't feel special
ly thankful" said Mrs. Allison, drawing
the afghan over her knees. .'I've Just
had one trouble after another all this
year. There was that cheating tenant
on the upper place: and then me laid
fiat O. my back in the very hottest
of the summer; and what with the
drought and poor season the crops are
a failure. Now, here l am with
sprained ankle, and nobody knows when
can put foot to the ground-if l ever
an-and all my business, and the whole
place, going to rack for need of some
one to look after things And Mrs.
Allison drew long sigh of self-pity, and
wiped her eyes upon a very fine linen
cambria handkerchief.
Mrs. Foster glanced around the
bright room, SO full of comforts, even
luXuries; then out upon the Trim, we'll
kept grounds, and beyond to the wide
fields where the stacked corn was stand
ing in long rows. She thought of the
stores of untouched provisions in the
great, neat house, and how easy it was
for the thin, withered hands near her
to trace a few words upon paper which
would turn that paper into money
value. She thought how little spared
from Mrs. Allison's abundance would
bring pleasure and thankfulness into
less favored homes; she thought how
her friend had it in her power to uplift
some bowed with toll. to add comfort
to some sick chamber, and sparse lar
der, and thinking thus, Mrs. Foster
sighed, too.
'And what are you signing for,
Eunice?' said Mrs. Allison, sharply.
eff l am not thankful. I'll own to it;
and you need not sit there looking like
a funeral.'
''Was looking gloomy?" said Mrs.
Foster. with little laugh, for she I'M
derstood Mrs. Allison's moods too well
to be offended at her plainess of speech.
Il m sorry you have so much trouble.
Catherine, but things will mend after
awhile
1T is to be hoped they will. But my
foot and ankle don't seem TO improve
at all, and am almost sure I'm going
to have spell of rheumat SIN. my back
and shoulders are so stiff. l hardly
closed my eyes last night"
"Dear, DEAR" said Mrs. Foster, SYM
pathetically. Nov did you ever try
liniment9 just the yelk of
an egg we'll beaten, two wine-glassfuls
Of turpentine, and awine-glass of strong
cider vinegar; when they re well mixed,
three wine glassfuls of water stirred in
a little at time. It's just splendid lin
iment. Father thinks there's nothing
like it. It's too bad about your ankle,
but as | was telling father, it's a mercy
YOU didn't break your leg
"Humph!'' was Mrs. Allison's sole
and ungracious rejoinder.
Yes, we all have our troubles, con-
tinued Mrs. Foster, wiping first one and
then the other of her glasses. and look
ing thouchtfully into the fire. ''Some
IF us have one kind, and some another: