The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1885-11-12

L fear, without satisfaction, to see luxuries
appearing in the house, and on the table,
that she was sure her father could not
afford.
"Shen ruin him next,nw was the comment
in her mind, not knowing that the STEP
mother had an income of her own nearly
equal 20 her husbands.
One day Margie saw worl1meu in the
parlor, and soon after a new fire -place
appeared, with a bright wood fire. When
the old-fashioned carpet chat had tried her
soIl was taken up to be cleaned, it re-
turned no more, but a modern wool carpet
was laid down, and rugs were scattered
around. Thus all over the house, in every
room, improvements went gradually on.
Every one was in good taste, and would
have been delightful to Margie, If she had
not r~esolutely steeled her heart to gods
influences.
One day on coming home from one of her
long visits to her friend Molly, she found
that her ~room-which until now had been
untouched-had received O visit. A rickety
old rocking-chair, too old to be safe, had
been removed, and a pretty new one, de-
lightfully easy and comfortable, occupied
its place.
Her first sudden emotion was pleasure,
but she remembered that unlucky word
manage" and anger quickly followed.
"This is the way she begins her 'manag-
ing,'" was the thought, and she flung open
the door, dragged the new chair out, and
called to the housemaid who happened to
be passing:
"Mary, this is not'mine; when I wish my
furniture changed / will tell YOU. PHI
trouble you to return my chair"-and she
closed her door. The old chair was brought
down from the attic, and no more attempts
We're made to improve her roonn.
Not long after this began soma sJrange
experiences in Margie's life. The first
thing that happened was what she had
wished for all her life-a regular allowance
for her own expenses. Heretofore when
she wanted money, she had been obliged to
ask her father for what she needed, and
tell him how much would do, and what she
should use it for. Sometimes he had de-
INJURED and thought her wishes extrava-
CANT, and it had been a trouble to her.
Since the step-mother arrived this matter
had been harder than ever to arrange,
since the old pleasant relations with her
father were all over, and she had gone
without everything that was possible,
even suffering for clothes before asking.
This state of things she unreasonably
added to the account against her step
mother, and was embittered accordingly.
Nothing could depict her surprise, there
fore, when one morning she received by
mail a check for a larger amount than she
had ever possessed at once, with a short
business-like announcement that she should
| receive in future a like check quarterly for
her own expenses.
Margie never had a p%leasanter errand
than that afternoon. when she went to the
bank and received her money, and from
there hurried to Molly's to tell the good
news, n secure her company in a long
wished-for shopping excursion.
She returned home almost happy, but
the sight of the smiling face of her step
mother turned the current of her feelings
into the old channel, and she sat down TO
dinner as gloomy as ever.
She tried to thank ner father that even
ing, but failing to catch him alone, wrote
| him a note of thanks the next morning.
From this time many pleasant things
came to her. Speaking one day of a de-
lightful journey her friend Molly was soon
to take with her mother, and how she
should like to go, the next day she re-
ceived a check, with full permission to
join the party.
On her return in the autumn she re-
ceived in the same way, season tickets to
certain musical entertainments she had
always longed for. When her friends be-
gan to make up classes of different sorts
for the winter, she received tickets for
each. Nothing was forgotten, a new
piano appeared for her Christmas present,
and on her birthday a generous check with
! which she was requested to refurnish her
I own room, a thing she had long desired
to do.
Sc it went on, and if she had not so
| steeled herself against her step-mother,
she could almost have loved her for being
the cause-though remote-of these
changes in her life. She never had so many
sources of happiness, never was so easy
about money and dress.
When this had been going on for some
time, she began to receive letters which
friend, who wished to be of use to her
mothers daughter, and signed herself
"Your Fairy Godmother."
These letters We're written with the
happiest tact. They began entirely on in
| tellectual subjects, to lead her thoughts, to
| diract N OF. rNaIIpp u. and ynila MT alorrpipu
her pride or erousing constituencies, and
never speaking of any person, they gradu-
ally led her to see many things in a differ
emit light, broadened and deepened her
character, and by guiding her reading and
studies in music and art made great changes
in her.
Margie delighted in them. She was
keenly DESTROYS of the best culture, and she
saw in them exactly what she felt the
need of, the advice and help of a cultured
and refined woman; one to take the place
of a mother.
She answered them with enthusiasm,
and it soon grew into a very frequent cor
respondeuce. Once she ventured to speak
of her life at home, and hint of her unhap-
piness, but the answer came promptly,
| gently putting an end to this, and request
ing her not to write about the family.
Nothing of oil these pleasures softened
Margie's conduct toward her step-mother.
UnconsciOusly to herself, most of the bit
terness had gone out of her heart; her
years mental and spiritual growth had
raised her above her former self, but her
manner was stereotyped, and she was not
yet noble enough to acknowledge her mis-
take.
Things were brought to a crisis in the
Barnard household by a terrible accident.
Returning one afternoon from a visit to q
friend, Margie found the house in confu-
sion; two doctors carriages before the
door; her father sent for; the children
crying; the s%ervants standing around the
halls.
On her appearance she was assailed with
the news. Horses had run w "a Mrs.
Barnard was very badly hurt-the doctors
feared fatally. They were in there now.
"Where's father" was her question.
"In the library, half crazy" was the re-
ply;
chance! Now l can be a comfort to papa
and throwing aside her street things she
rushed in eagerly. Her father was walk
ing back and forth, talking aloud in his
sore distress.
30 God !" he murmured, 81 can not see
her suffer! l can not lave her dep
Margie stopped, awed by his grief. He
went on:
"With her l lose every hold 1 have OF
lifew
Margie could keep back no longer.
40, papa" she cried, laying her hand OF
his arm, "Don't say that! You nave u,
children; we surely are something to you
1, papa, will be all I can to you"
Her father looked at her, and the mingled
grief and %sternness of his face Margit
could never forget.
"You?o he said. "Y0u-will comfort
You nave systematically and cruelty re.
PEELED the tenderest heart in the world
You have planted every sting in my hear
that was in your power, since she condo
scended to be a mother to my neglected
children, and fill a vacant place in m,
heart which no daughter-however dear
could possibly fill. Do you think you
blessed mother would approve of you
Leave me alone with my grief"
Margie crept out of the room, stunned
crushed, struck with a sudden sense OF he
own abominable conduct. She had bee
~fOrgetful of her own mothers dying words
!, daughter, do everything you can to max
papa happy, for my sake" She felt her
self a wretch: she saw herself for once a
} she was. aud felt with sharp pains no,