The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1886-04-10
DIED OF EMBROIDER.

The Grape hangs gloomily beside the door
Where death had never entered in beforei
And in the darkened house the mother lay,
Who babe farewell to homo and friends that
Her eyes were closed, her face was thin and
white;
Her voice was hushed, no more to say Good
To the fair children. weeping down below,
Who could not sleep though past their hour
And still the youngest, through her sobbing
Come, Mamma, come, and take me up to
The father sat, his head bowed on his hand,
This sudden blow he scarce could under
stand
The house was fair and beautiful within,
Each room displayed where tasteful hands
had been,
And rich eInbroideries met one everywhere
On sofa, mantel and on easy chair,
And on the floor, by patient fingers wrought,
Luxuriant rugs, small means could not have
bought;
Each table napkin and each pillow sham
Displayed a finely hand-worked monogram;
The childrens' dresses, from the eldest down,
Whatever texture, color, blue or brown,
Were all embroidered with devices rare,
And every stitch was laid with choicest care;
How pleasant must it be, when one is dead,
To leave so many tokens lightly spread
Before the eyes of those we leave behind,
That in our laborS they some comfort find;
All does the grieving husband sitting there,
Appreciate these dainty treasures rare?
Alas he has IN them too late espied
The instrument of her slow suicide;
And now their sight drives him almost insane,
SO great the loss and for such paltry gain;
And sitting there he thinks how, by his side,
Night after night she had her needle piled;
And on her work she so intent had grown,
He felt each day left more and more alone:
He saw each day how pale and wan she grew
And yet she said twas work that she must do,
And when he begged her stop, to him she
said:
That these embroderies really must be had,
ul1 1kni
'twOuld take,
The decorations she must surely make:
And when he asked; why need they such
things wearI'
She turned away as though in mute despair,
And on her face was pictured such distress,
Twould seem the peril were to life, not
And so to her he gave the matter DER,
And on she labored, weary as before;
Embroidery seemed to him the bane of life,
Because il claimed the whole soul of his wife:
And now he sits beside his hearth, alone,
heaping from what mistaken views had
grown;
And this conviction ever will abide.
That of embroidery his young wife died.
Beside him at the Office, day by day,
There tolls man upon the same small pay,
whose home can not sucn fair adjoining
And yet, to him, life seems to bring the most
OF ali that fills the soul with truest JOY,
And least of that which ever doth annoy;
His children go to school in plain attire,
And gaining knowledge seems their great de-
sire;
The loving mother has thought that they
BE inwardly adorned each passing day,
And strives to teach them, with unceasng
care,
To think of what they are, not what they
wear;
And after all her daily duties done,
She gives herself to gladden. every one;
Her happy face adOrns their plain abode
More than the daintest work by hand be-
slowed
BY guarding health and temper, brains and
eyes,
She makes her home a blessed paradise
From which her children shall at length go
forth
With wisdom that shall beautify the earth.
Mary W. Gleason, IN Good Housekeeping.