The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-06-12
ZOE NO usE.n

Aimless, Selfish Life.
at does seem as if some people have
more than their share of trouble" said
Mrs Hilton. in respondent tone, as
she held out thin, toil-worn hand to
Mrs. Bowen, neighbor, who had
stopped on her way downtown" to
inquire after her health.
at does seem hard that you should |
be laid up in this way, that's fact"
said Mrs. Bowen. sympathetically, as
she drew chair to the bedside. The
mother of a large family can't very
well afford to treat herself to the mxu-
ry of a broken limb"
Il don'tknow how they are all going
to get along without me- said Mrs.
Hilton. 'sMy hands have always been
full to overlooking, and now, of course,
everything will be at a standstill. 1t
makes me sick at heart to think of it.
''You mustn't think of it." said Mrs.
Bowen. ''You must keep quiet and
tranquil if you want to get well fast.
Fretting is sure to give you fever"
at is very well to tell me to keep
tranquil" said Mrs. Hilton, the tears
rising to her eyes, 'but how can | help
fretting when | know that shall prob
ably have to lie here six or eight weeks,
utterly unable to do anything. The
doctor tells me that the house will get
along somehow, but that is cold COM
fort. If only had sister who would
come here now, how thankful [ would
be- s.gf sill .- .
''But there is Eleanor" said Mrs.
Bowen. "She is nineteen, / believe;
certainly old enough to take charge of
the house for a few weeks. You must
have forgotten her"
"Indeed, | often do forget her,"
sighed Mrs. Hilton, 81 see so little of
her. She stays in her own room day in
and day out. Eleanor! I might as well
have no one in charge as Eleanor. She
is of no use"
The door opening into the adjoining
room was ajar, and the mother words |
were heard distinctly by a young girl
who was standing lstlessly at VIM
dow, looking out on the garden below.
She started, and her face flushed pain
fully. ,....w3. ~ /
"Of no use," she repeated to herself
in q low voice. How unkihd of moth
er to say such q thing! And how I'M
just
Unable to repress the angry tears
which rose to her eyes, and fearing dis
covery, she left the room, and. running
down to tbs library, threw herself on
the well-worn lounge, burying her face
in the patchwork cushion.
60 wonder if my own mother would
ever have said such cruel thing" she
thought, as her tears flowed freely.
"She would have found me of some
use, I know" Is
She could not remember her own
mother, who had died many years be-
fore, but heretofore she had had no par
ticular fault to find with the stranger
who had taken that mother place. The
second Mrs. Hilton had been warned,
both by relatives and friends, that the
position of a step-mother was difficult
one to fill accepably, and she had, from
the first, been very cautious in her treat
ment of Eleanor, telling herself that the
child should never be able to say that
she had ill-treated or made servant of
her. This feeling had become almost
morbid and when Eleanor returned
from boarding-school, she was treated
with the consideration usually shown
guest. She had one of the best rooms
in the house, and was never called upon
to assist in any of its duties. She spent
her time as she liked; read. embroid-
ered crocheted, made calls, and went
to entertainments without suggestion
or hindrance from her step-mother
And, having no especial duties to per
form, she found life very dull and weari-
some. .--..
eff only had some particular talent
that could turn to account, she often
thought. 'Then l would have some
thing to which could look forward,
and the days would not seem so long"
Many an idle hour did she spend in |
foolish dreaming of the future and |
what it would bring her, and the sight |
of the perpetually over-fowing stock
ing-basket on the window-seat by her
mothers chair did not suggest to her
that there was plenty of work close at |
hand if she only chose to take it up. |
She did not know that she was leading |
selfish, airnless life, wasting time that |
God had intended her to use for the
good of those about her.
She felt very unhappy as she lay on
the old lounge, and told herself that |
she was unappreciated and had been
very much maligned. She thought she
could never forgive her step-mother, or
feel kindly toward her again.
Il wish L could go away some
where" she sobbed Historically. 'sOf |
course, she would be glad to get rid of
me, since / am of no use."
Just then she heard Bridget's voice
in the next room:
"What have We got on yer best
jacket for. Bob? This amt no time
to be wearin' out ye' best clo'es wild We
ma lying in bed wild broken leg"
81 tore my everyday jacket" an
swered Bob, "and of course I'll have to
wear this one right along, now
mothers sick and can't mend the
other
'Why don't We ask Miss Nelly to
mend itP Sure, she's alters got a needle
in her hand"
Eleanor Oh, she wouldn't do it.
She never does anything for anybody
but herself. "
The kitchen doQr opened and shut,
and Bob went whistling out to the
stable, unconscious that his careless
words had been heard by any one save
the old servant.
How true it is that
Full many shaft at random sent,
Finds mark the archer little meant
The truth, brought home to Eleanor
thus roughly from her little brothers
lips, did more towards opening her eyes
to her own past conduct than any adj
vice or counsel, however kindly meant,
could have done. Over and over again
she repeated the words Bob had said:
''She never does anything for anybody
but herself" and her cheeks famed as
she confessed to her own heart that it
was true. She could not recollect hav-
ing offered once, in the two years she
had been home, to relieve her mother
of any of the household cares.
She lay curled up on the lounge for
an hour longer, thinking over the past,
and making good resolutions for the