Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1886-06-24
Gussie's Bad Temper.

The Rev. Jerome Grant was unmar+
ried warranted by the gossips to have
no lady love -yo ung, handsome, and
possessed of a private income which
made salary secondary consideration.
Now, in Locust Hollow there we're
number of plump and very pretty girls,
with a few slim, graceful damsels, but
the plump ones outnumbered the slim,
as always is the case in country villages,
with their fresh air, healthy diet, and
regular hours.
Among the very plumpest of the vii
lage maidens was Gussie Elliston, and
Miss Gussie's blue eyes and red and
white complexion seemed to have found
favor in the eyes of Mr.. Grant, for he
speedily placed himself on familiar foot
ing at the long, low farm house, where
he met with very warm greetings from
the farmer and his wife, and dimpling
smiles and shy bushes from their
daughter.
Among the very slimmest and palest
of those who listened to the young min
lister Sunday after Sunday was Louise,
the daughter of a helpless widow, who
lived little out of the village, and who
bad therefore escaped the knowledge of
Jerome for some time.
Perhaps Louise's cheeks would have
had more color in them and her eyes
less of that wistful tenderness did not
the burden of her own and her invalid
mothers support fall on her young
shoulders.
Jerome had noticed the girls sweet,
patient face, and wondered why he only
saw it on Sunday-wondered how it was
he had never seen it in the many homes
that had been opened fer him to enter as
a welcome guest.
But Gussie's blue eyes had been enough
like violets to make him speedily forget
the wistful brown ones. and it was not
until he was installed at Locust Hollow
three months, and had begun to think
that Gussie Elliston would make a very
sweet minister's wife, that accident
brought him to the door of the cottage
which the widow Vennevale and her
daughter occupied.
1t was warm; the young man was warm
too, and tired from long ramble; he
was thirsty as well. and so, after hesita>
ting few moments, knocked lightly on
the open door, intending to ask for
glass of water.
His knock was net heard, evidently
for nobody replied to it, and while he
waited a low murmuring voice reached
him from within.
Il did my best. MOTHER girlish tones
answered wearily, land l thought il
very nice. l otter wonder how people
can say such harsh things to me, When
l try so hard to please them. Mother
my poor mGther-it is very hard to bt
poor-to be womrn and poor-there i:
nothing harder in this whole wide
world"
The young man was profoundly touch
ed, but he lifted his hand once more and
knocked loudly.
This time he was heard, and lighI
but languid step crossed toward tht
! door.
In a moment Louise Vennevale, will
undried tears on her long lashes, wa.
looking at him with wondering eyes
brown as hazelnuts.
He held out his shapely hand.
Mamma" she said, quietly, "this il
Mr.. Grant. He has come to see you"
: And, greatly to the young mans dis
appointment, after placing a chair fo
him beside the sofa she glided out, sligh
and graceful as spirit.
: He remained almost an hour convers
ing with the invalid. He heard the pit
iful story-too sadly frequent for mel
to mind it much to-day, in their busy
selfish lives; the struggle to purchase
little home for wife and child by thu
, stalwart young farmer, who had onl.
, his strong hands and heart to rely on
then the long illness of the woman, du
ring which the first mortgage had falleI
, on the farm; then the sudden death bl
. sunstroke of the man, and the helpless
widows efforts to educate her only child
before allowing her to take up the wear!
burden that now she had borne for foul
years with gentlest patience.