The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-08-03
the import of her words, task him x

tue import Vi Her WOruS, SSk ulLn II
forgive you'll
1t was most unfortunate appeal
frightened at her husbands evident
purpose, the young wife had begun to
relent, but her mother-in-law's words
only exasperated her afresh.
Certainly" with hooking bitter
ness in her tones, "only state the
cause of my offense. Is it because l
look with the horror any true woman
feels at the sight of drunkenness?
Over and over again have you prom
ised me-" turning toward her husband
as she spoke. THAT you would leave
OIL this fearful habit, the existence OF
which did not dream when married
you. Over and over it has been
broken, and now-now-" she stopped
in a passionate burst of sobs and
tears.
The door closed with a loud noise.
Left alone, the two sat with averted
faces, each trying to control the emo
tion that overmastered her.
"Oh. Ruth. my child, my daughter"
said the mother. what have you
done? If ever Max is to be won from
his ways of sin it must be by patience
and gentleness, and l fear you have
angerea him past all reconciliation.
If you could have plead with him"
Mother" her face was pale but
resolute. II will not stay here and
bear any longer the shame and humil-
iation, the pity and comments of my
friends. shall go to an aunt's in the
East, and there begin life anew"
Thrice have the roses bloomed and
faded around the Dalton cottage,
thrice the SHOWS of winter have
whitened its familiar pathways, and to
Ruth in her distant home has come no
word from Max or his mother. Once
she learned from chance newspaper
that Mrs. Dalton had been ill, put
no answering message had come In
return.
Sometimes a feeling of homesick-
ness came over her, wish for the dear
little cottage, and a life of the old days
that was almost insupportable. Famil-
lar sounds and objects brought vain
regret the scent of flower, bird 9
song. the tint of the clouds at sunset
but she resisted them, strong in her
resolution not to be partaker in sin
by consorting with vice.
II should not feel justified in con.
demning another woman to the com.
partnership of drunkard, what right
have to so condemn MYSELF" she
would sometimes say in her musings.
The right, nay, the duty, of preserv-
ing her own integrity by keeping her
life free from degrading companion
ship was ever uppermost.
One evening when sitting alone in
her room, thinking over her plans for
the future, she was startled by the re-
ceipt of letter bearing the Client
post-mark. Tearing it open hurriedly
she read
y
your mother-in-law Mrs. Naomi Dalton. IS
very ill at the county farm and wishes to hear
from you Should this letter reach you, o re-.
ply directed to Ryeville will find her. 1t is i'm.
eortant that you write without delay If you
wish letter to reach her at all, as she is very
weak and failing fast Yours etc,
John DEMAR,
superintendent County Poor-house'
"Her name is Naomi, and mine is
Ruth" she said. sadly. 'How have 1
followed the Scriptural example?"
And half involuntarily there came into
her mind the words whose sweetness
has permeated through all the ages:
Where thou goest / will go, and
where thou lodgest | will lodge. thy
people shall be my people, and thy
God my God"
Three weeks later found Ruth in the
cottage, and with her Mrs. Dalton,
weak, but recovering rapidly under
the tender and thoughtful care of her
daughter-in-law. happy as child to
be back again in the cozy, homelike
rooms, with Ruth's light step fitting
in and out, as it had done in the old
times. There was a certain dainty
charm about Ruth's household ways
that was always her special admira-
ton, and she liked to lie on the lounge
and watch her as she went about, a
little sadder than of old, but with a
steady cheerfulness that was very
helpful to the invalid. One name was
never mentioned between them, until
one evening-the anniversary of her
wedding day-as they sat together in
the dusk, Ruth said softly: Mother,
you have not mentioned Max; why did
he leave you, and where is hep"
Mrs. Dalton burst into tears. II
have never seen him since that
wretched night. Ruth. Did you think
him base enough to send his mother
to the poor-house? was ill, had no
friends, my children had deserted me,
l had no other place to 60 Oh, my
son! my son! how can drink so trans
form a generous, noble nature to that
of fiend?"