Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1884-09-11

usually look ltS ulnncr IN tnc aulOln-
ing room, and then our constrained,
lifcless conversation would he broken
in upon by his merry chatter, and the
Gathering of his spoon. My wife
could have no rest, and there was Il
continual coming and going between
us and him, to see that "It' did not
cat too much, whether the soup was
too hot, etc. Quietly but positively |
said to my wife, AFTER to-day 1T
shall eat with us. 1T is two years
old, and, and that is quite old enough. y
From that time "It'' ate with us.
Like little prince, it sat in high.
chair next to my wife, both opposite
me, like Il hostile party. The yellow
ish, povcrty-strickcn color of his face
had changed to II healthy red; his lit
tie, chubby, chcrub checks sat costly
upon the stil'folds of the napkin under
his chin. He managed his soup nicely,
and having disposed oft, he rested his
small feet on the table. grasping his
spoon like sccptcr. We had cX-
changed but few words, my wife and
|, and were then sitting silent, where
upon his big eyes began TO open wider
and wider-hc stared at me, then at
her, as if astonishcd, and almost un-
comfortably sensible gazed at lis with
the look of grown person who had Il
suspicion that all was not as il should
be between us.
These eyes, ! must confess, cmbar-
rasscd me, and it was great relief
when the servant brought in the next
course. My wife also, | am sure, cX-
pcricncCd the same feeling.
The next day it was just the same.
Always the big, wondering blue eyes
staring in our pauscS Of conversation
like warning question.
1t may seem laughablc, but in tie
presence of the child we were ashamed
Of ourselves; we, two grown up pcO-
pie. Little by little our conversation
became more animated, the ''crookcd' -
words of the little one were unrid-
died and explained, and sometimes
there was a general laugh over its
strange attempts at expression. All,
how bright, how ringing sounded its
laughter. Had | never heard it before?
And then | rccollected that sometimes
when busted in my Office | had heard
these same sounds as if coming from
afar.
1t is one of the first sunny spring
days, and the child is at play in the
garden, which | can see us | sit at
work. | hear the sound OF his little
feet on the gravel, and then of her
step; she is running after him, while
his little, warbling voice is mingling
with the chorus of sparrows. Now she
has caught him and is Showcring kiss
on kiss on his rosy mouth. Near such
music how can write? | open the
window-a warm, pleasant breeze
enters, and Il butterfly strays into my
ink-stand.
Against Il green background of
shrubbery, in Il dazzling white morn
ing robe, gildcd by the suns bright
ray 5, see her face bathcd in the red
shadow cast by her Sun-shqdc. How
slender she seems as she walks along;
how graceful her movements, Have |,
then, been blind? The world is right
She is beautiful. A loving smile
brightcns her face she is happy Ger
tainIy at this moment she is happy
and that happiness comes from her
child.
A voice rises within me which says
distinctly, "You are monStcr!' | rise
and stand by the window.
"A pleasant day, is it not?' | cry
out. All, | know that must have seemed
cold and prosaic, like Il dark cloud
casting its shadow over sunny land
Scapc.
She says something in reply can
not catch, but the happiness has diSap-
pcarcd from her face. The child holds
out its arms to her, she takes it up and
presses it to her heart before my eyes,
1t was then that jealousy first awoke
in mc-real, yet what strange jcal-
ousy which was unable to be clearly
conscious of its object.
When "It' said mamma" to my
wife ii was like stab to my heart,
and the carcsscs with which she over
loaded it caused me almost to lose
control over myself. was jealous -
and of both.
1t PANIED me that | had no part in
their love weaving; that | was not the
third in their band | tried to acquire
the right to Il claim on their love. All!
| had begun wrongly; the child was
now shy before me, and shc-had | not
for years forcibly kept her at Il dis
tancc?
One day at luncheon, after Il Skirm-
ish of words, there was n dead silence
between us, Il silence which was more
than usually depressing. looked
down on the flowers painted on my
Dresden plate, my brow knit in vcXa.
ton, but felt distinctly that at" had
fixed its big, staring eyes upon me.
And her eyes also felt. 1t seemed aS
though the rays from these foul
luminaries burned through my fore
head. Suddenly there burst in on the
stiffness -"Pa-pa,' and then again
louder and with more courage, "Pa
pa was startled. 1t sat there and
seemed to watch me anxiously to Sc,
what sort of storm his words "pa-pa'
would caase. His face glowed rosy
ed, and his half-open lips quivered.
A Hood of blessing seemed to wei
up in my heart. Surely no one bu
she had taught him that papa
Why did not spring up and rush tC
her, and, with Il word, with an en-
brance, blot out the barrennesS Of