West Virginia Democrat. [volume] (Charles Town, W. Va.) 1885-1890, 1888-05-25
JEFFERSON FRIDAY MAY 25 1855

attentions to them, all her mind is
III the cradle; and if she gives 70 the
poor, she says: spray for my son."
TO her whose heart is more free
from this concentration, every suffer
ing creature is as her own child.
She is radiant with kindliness and
active charity. She curtails all her
expenses 20 be able to dispense free
hospitality in her house; and ut her
simple but abundant table she wonld
like to seat all the kingdom of God.
She goes out in search Of the poor,
gives them money, and best OF all,
comforts them. She weeps with
those who are in affliction. And
then how beautiful she is! 9;e7.
Her husband frequently catches
her in the very act of charity. A
conyalescent invalid enters accident
ally and betrays her secret. She is
embarrassed-their mal-a-propos
benedictions disclosing her conceal.
ed goodness, that bashfulness OF
Charity which dares not confess its
weakness. He smiles and says:
"Ah! SO / have caught you at it
again, have I!' rF zfs
Some day he finds her blushing.
Why2 A young servant girl has
committed fault, and the wife,
fearing that she will be too severely
scolded, tacitly intercedes for her
with supplicating look. 's'ai =
But the occasion on which every
man will be captivated by her, is
when, surrounded by party Of
young people of both sexes, she
makes such kind and skilful exer-
tions to set off the young girls TO the
best advantage. She draws some
thing graceful out Of these poor,
dumb things, emancipating theu by
o sign or an apt word. She is very
far from being jealous. '-r
She loves them. and by her own
love evokes love from hearts which
would have been the last to be arous-
ed. The one who is too timid to
either move or speak, she draws to-
wards her, makes sort Of pet dove
of her, embraces and kisses her.
Then that young creature appears
charming. And as for
the wife, heaven is in her eyes!
1t is for the man to die and for
the woman TO mourn. @
So we generally see it. The fee
BILE woman, from grief to grief, from
tears to tears, lives on, and is left q
widow.
1t is beautiful in man to die in
his strength, to die young, at least
in full vigor. He is so much the
more regretted. Let us not pity
him. but her.
II the man should survive, being
occupied and diverted by work, he
would perhaps feel this great affiict-
ion less, or at least not for so long a
time. But for her-alas how deep
will Deaths shaft strike /! We
hardly dare think Of that.
remember, as if it were but yes
terday, that, on the day after my
grandfather was buried, it having
rained that night, my grandmother
said, in tone which brings the
tears to my eyes, for all these forty
years: "Mon Dieu! it raining on
him ~ m sir ~
We cannot change that; it is the
voice of nature. That will be said
over and over again, by all men and
all women-perhaps whispered, and
lnwardly stihed-but thought GER
tainly. m 3ai fpfsi ~
When we are cool, and love but
little, we are more exalted and
prouder. We have no idea of bury
ing our heart in the grave. We i'm
agine beautiful wings for it. ''S e"
% But when the anguish OF be Z
reavement really holds us in its
clutches, takes us by the throat as
it we're, it becomes invincible, and
we say at is raining on him !"
Is this simple vesture, gar
ment, as it is said to be2 This
body which day by day received the
alluviuin. of life, which in its indie
structible bones bears traces of all
its activities and passion, which for
Thousand years will retain those
admired teeth, that living silk Of
hair which you have SO often caress-
ed-all so blended with the creature
herself that his heart is to be par
doned for confounding them, for see-
ing in them her whois no olonger there
for saying, "It is raining on her."
-
Itis December. A cold sun lights
up the frost with which the fields
are whitened. The house, once
noisy, now silent, strives in the win
ter blast. The fireplace which for
merly shed its light upon the COM
plete family circle, now desolate it's
elf, hardly serves to warm the wid-
ow who crouches over it.
In corner OF the room two chairs
wait-and will wait for ever; the
arm chair which, as he entered, he
drew up to her side, to talk over the
events of the day, and his projects
for the morrow-and near it, the lit