Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1886-08-05

heavy wages-provided, of course, he did
everything with cheerful heart, but he
got shelter and food and vas frequently
exhorted to thank heaven for both on his
Bonded knees.
The food for which the two sinful SER
wants had to thank heaven was dispensed
to them as follows:
Every morning, after breakfast, when
the family had enjoyed their three brews
of tea from the teapot, a little tepid water
was poured over the cold leaves by Mrs.
Bannerman, and this, with few odds and
ends Of stale bread out of the basket,
formed a morning meal for Martha and
Phil. At dinner time Mrs. B. cuts them
each slice of meat with potato, or, if
there was no meat left in the family dish,
they had to do with potatoes only. At
tea time they again had some lukewarm
water-the rinsings of the teapot
some stale bread. Butter, milk and sugar
were denied them. Mr.. Bannerman used
to say that they were not put into the
world to pamper their corruptible bodies,
and Mrs. Bannerman took care that they
should not do so by locking up all scraps
with her own keys. She was also vigilant
in guarding the kitchen while any food
was being cooked there. If she could
set one of her children there to espy if
either of the servants picked and stole
stray morsels.
AS to clothes, when Mr.. Bannerman had
taken all the possible wear out of a pair
of pantaloons, that garment was altered
by tailor to fit one of the Bannerman
boys, and after the boy had done with it,
it was handed over to Martha, who had to
adapt it to PhiPs requirements. SINH
larly Martha herself occasionally got an
old gown which had been worn out by
Mrs. B. and her eldett daughter. Her
clothes were so shabby that she would not
have dared go out in them; but Mrs. Ban
herman did not want her to go out, nor to
enter into evil communications, as she
put it, with other servants and with
tradesmen's boys. 1t was Mrs. B. herself
who took the lOaves from the baker and
the meat from the butchers young man.
Martha was never seeu. Sometimes on
Sundays she used to see the clearly
dressed servants of neighbors going to
church, and she supposed, in her shame,
that they must all be good girls who had
never gone astray like herself. She was
afraid to become acquainted with any of
them, for she would have to explain how
she came to be toiling in Christian home
without wages, and what would they say
then? Assuredly they would spurn her
as wretched thing, not fit to keep com
pany with such as they.
It never occurred to Martha to think
that the Bannermans were doing her any
wrong, or to fancy that the weak languor
which used to steal over her day after day
came from overwork and want of proper
food. She had racking headaches, which
In ha,. oil nc{ 60, lo1a
her limbs were often so stiff and heavy
that she could scarcely drag herself over
the door: sometimes crockery fell out of
her hands because all horsepower seemed
to have left her fngeas, and then she
would be abused with such shrill violence
by her mistress, who accused her of break
ing things on purpose, that she would
tremble like leaf, and find no words to
| Justify herself. But, much as she suffer
| 3D. Martha endured less from her own
miserable plight than from the decline
which she was eating away the life of her
| only friend and companion, Phil.
This poor lame boy, who was so thin
| that his limbs appeared to be all bone,
| was getting to be more and more unequal
to his work. Sometimes Martha heard
him pause and groan on the staircase as
| he tried in vain to carry upa scuttle that
was too heavy for him. She gave him
what help she conld, but if Mr.. or Mrs.
Bannerman caught her assisting the boy
Phil was made to pay the penalty under
! the form of cuffs on Ne ears. His master
and mistress were never tired of saying
that he was an ill-conditioned vagabond,
who rubbed them of the bread he ate.
! They promised him hell-fire as his inevi-
| table portion, and poor Phil went stumbl-
ing about the house doing the best he
could, and bewailing his own wickedness
that made him so slothfuI, for Mr.. Ban
herman had assured him that it was all
sloth that made him unable to lift the
coal scuttle. "Consider the ant, thou
sluggard!'' said this Christian to him
many times.
| One day Phils sloth mastered him and
he could not rise from the mattress in
! the pantry on which he slept. He had
been too weak and listless to eat on the
previous day, and, coming down early on
the cold winter morning, Martha found
him hot with fever and biting his counter
pane as he sat up looking wildly about
| him. She told him to lie still for awhile,
and presently, at breakfast time, inform
| ed her master that Phil was too i'll to get
| up.
III make him get up, the little hypo-
| crite," answered MIR. Bannerman, and
downstairs he went, catching the hall.
Martha heard the sound of blows and a
| few means, but Phil could not rise.
Stealing, fearful and trembling, into the
! pantry when Mr.. Bannerman had retired
after inficting his chastisement, she saw
Phil lying on the floor, where he had
dropped in trying to dress.
Il can not help it if they burn me,
Martha" he sobbed, feebly. II did my
best"
''They won't burn you, dear = nobody
WILL said Martha, sobbing, too, and
taking him in her arms. do you feel
very bad, dear? Tell me where it hurts
you
II did my-best," faltered the poor boy
and soon afterward he lay quite still, with
his head on Martha's shoulder, and his
eyes fixed and shining.
There was an inquest after that, and
Martha heard the Bannermans talking at
the table about how the Coroner had COM
plimented them. She read report of
the inquest, too, in the newspaper, and