Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-10-20
THE WIDOW BOWEN.
Sho Preferred Clumsy Old Susan
to tho Senator.

Several Of tbs people of easy fortune in
the village hlyo m IvJd here from a dis
lance. a few of tho oil families retain
the patrmony and the consequence trans
miitpd by their fathers, but some of the
descendants of the best psoplc, so called
of II former generation arc now poor. A
few Of them, though living on the merest
p;ttance, try to maintain a show of gem
tility. They have preserved somo OF the
remnants of past grandeur, and thoy try
TO live up to their old china, antique clocks
and colonial chairs and tables. There are
othcrs who, Ivy tho chances and changes Of
life, have lost even this claim to considcra-
ton, and lab)ras bost they may for their
daily bread.
tencm ats that, like q number of breakfast
roi.s "a a pan, seem TO have run together
Gni ctntined their shabby ugliness without
aim, for there is land enough and to spare
for detached dwellings with yards and gar
dens. Most of these houses are occupied by
laboreTs families, but at the north end OF
the row 1.-Two the Widow Bowen and her
daughter Susan. You will know the place.
because it is free from old hats stuck into
broken window panes, and the scrap of
yard in front is kept neatly swept. The
Widow Bowen, she that was Jane Hin
man. IL is thus the neighbors always
sreak of her. In Old times the Humans
were Of tho village elect, and held their
heads as high as anybody. Jane was
handsome girl and had many good offers,
but she chose in the end to marry Bowen,
who was OF no particular account, and
finally faded out of life leaving his wife
poor, with one little girl. She had buried
four children on tho bill, and had known
troublous times all through her married
life, ard struggle and poverty and hard
work had attended the widows steps ever
since. The fortunes of the Humans had
run to seed. They had died out or left tho
place, and generation arose which know
them not Ouly the Widow Bowen and her
daughter Susan remained in that poor
corner tenement, where they toiled from
morning till night at sewing machine
work, finishing off coats and trousers at so
much the dozen for ready made-clothing
house in n ncighboring town.
Huge parcels came for them by tho train
and were left in the care of the baggage
master and carried to the widows door by
Sambo Brown. Year in and year out tho
mother and daughter laborcd at this work
Mrs. Bowen doing the lighter portions,
willie Susan, who was vigorous, bore the
brunt of toll. They often worked fourteen
hours n day, beginning in summer at five
o'clock. The hum of their machine was
heard by tho Irish laborers as dinner pail
in hand. they trudged past the window at
six. Sometimes "A female neighbor, with q
gentle horse she could drive herself, came
and took Mrs. Bowen for an hours airing
in her buggy. But these werc rare occa-
s!ons The widow could not spare the time
on week days, and Sunday driving is not
fashionable in the village. But Sunday
being the only leisure time they had, Susan
and her mother in fine weather, often
locked the house and went TO the woods
for the entire day. carrying their dinner
with them. They seldom attended church
now. Some of the ncighbors talked, as
wi m n IN tN1o nd
pathies of a certain strict class of villagers
were alienated. But the young clergyman
always remained friendly; and he often
brought them the latest magazines and re-
views which Susan read to her mother in
their Sunday outings. Being a modest
man, he thought the new literature would
do them as much good as his sermons; and
he liked to talk over with Susan what she
had read.
Susan Bowen was very plain; People
said she did not feature" tho Humans,
and as for tho Bowens, they were of too
little Importance for any one to remember
their characteristics. Susan's upper teeth
projected, and she could not easily close
her lips over them Her hair was rather
harsh and wiry, and her complexion dark
and without bloom But she was wonder
fully strong i'm body, and had never known
days illness in her life. She wore large
calfskiD shoes, short gown Of some cheap
stuff, cotton gloves and n little round hat
after season, regardless of the changes of
fashion. Susan spoke out what she had in
her mind without fear or favor. At six
teen she had said openly that she would
never marry, because no one would think
of marrying her whom she could accept.
She talked of her plainness, her large
hands and feet, and even made joke of
them. She never disguised her poverty or
made the least pretence of hiding the
family misfortunes, but on tho contrary
she mado no appeal for sympathy. She
was an unusually large, strong, vigorous
girl at an early age, and IL behooved her
to maintain constant cheerfulncss OF de-
meanor and to sustain her mother, who
certainly was the weaker vessel. Genuine
| folk are recognized sooner or later even in
| spiteful little communities. People would
boar n great deal of truth-telling from
E1san just because she was Susan. Her
word was as good as a bond; and she had
the Kind of manly honor that never breaks
a contract or disregards promise. Milly
Grant, the village milliner with whom she
maintained the closest intimacy, had a
great admiration for her because she felt
| that no one but herself had ever sounded
tho height and depth and fulness of Susan's
| genuine excellence. She regretted that
| Susan was not man, so that she might
marry her.
But Susan, with all her mannish virtues,
was worry womanly. She was strong 10
help. Her heart was capacious and bal
anced her excellent head. The position OF
mother and daughter had been changed.
| Susan was the wheel-horse, as she said, and
she fslt . protecting fondness for hez