Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1889-08-16
4 VOMAN'S STORY


Martha Clarkson, the widow of fisher
man on the Jersey coast, told me the great
er part of this story. 1t has always seem
ed to me full of significance, especially to
women, who, more than men, lack the dra
matte power of putting themselves into
anothers place.
The story concerned Agnes Jerome
When it begins, Agnes was about thirty
years old, and under many troubles had
grown worn and weary While she was
still young girl she had married against
the advice of her family, and her conse-
quent unhappiness ought to have satisfied
the most revengeful in it. If her husband
had justified her faith in him. and she had
prospered, she might have been forgiven,
but she was 80 persistently wretched that
it was uncomfortable to even think of her
Her brother resented being called upon TO
90 bail for her husband her sisters did not
like their servants TO see her fOrlorn figure
coming into the house she always had the
aspect of beggar, they said and indeed
this was true but it was not of them she
was forever craving help, it was of life. of
death, Of the Lord in heaven, sometimes Of
the devil himself
In the first years of her marriage she
used to think she would he happy if only
Barney would reform then she despaired
| of his reformation, because all their sur
roundings were so abject They had lost
| their comfortable home, and were living in
a back room in lodging house. In the
morning she used to get up and boil her
coffee over a smoky little oil lamp, in a tin
cup, while Barney was still asleep. As she
sat eating dry bread and drinking poor cof-
fee, wrapped in a shawl, because the peo.
pie below stairs kept the heat turned down
until their rooms were warmed, she used
to think that if anything would excuse a
man for living in saloons it was the alterna-
tive of living in room such as her own. She
did not realize that Barney cared nothing
for the dreariness of his home. He never
thought of it except as place where there
was bed to sleep upon, and where posi-
bly, something to eat could be obtained. If
he came home late at night and found his
wife sewing, he was satisfied, because it
was evident that she had work and there
would be some money if he found her
asleep, he said little because he was always
sleepy. and stupid, and he didn't want to be
talked to by her If he had any treasures
to which his heart or thoughts turned they
were not in his home. He never abused
Agnes-that is, he never struck her-but
he never thought himself responsible for
her privations, her hunger, sufferings, or
notifications. They were both poor, and
that was all there was of it. If the land
lady turned them out of doors he expected
Agnes to find new shelter, and this she
had to do, because no one would have trust
ed him for the rent of a room. And if peo.
pie had known how entirely penniless and
destitute she always was when she sought
a new home, no one would have let her in.
But she had some bravery and the breed
ing of a lady, and her gentle manners car.
ried her over many hard places And she
sank lower and lower, until she was quite
out of sight, and this was comfortable for
her relations. To have a skeleton in the
closet is bad enough, but one in the front
hall is worse.
After time Barney disappeared. Ag-
mes expected him back day by day, but he
did not come, and she began to hope he was
dead. 1t seemed so much better to think
of him as asleep in quiet grave than wan
dering drunken about the streets She
sewed very constantly in these days, and
as she could keep, use, and manage what
she earned she was able TO rent room
with stove in it, and now and then cook
herself little cheap meat. But the long
hours of cheerless toll, the want of fresh
air and ventilation, brought on a slow fe
yer, and she had to go to hospital. Here
she lay for several weeks until she was dis
charged as cured. And she was cured of
the fever, but she was a sick, suffering
woman when she went feebly out of the
hospital gate and stood at the street corner
waiting for car. She did not know where
to 20. She had three dollars in her pocket,
given her by two of the nurses, but that
was small capital upon which to start in
life again. And indeed she did not care
L
somewhere where she could lie down. Her
limbs were stiff she had a pain in her
back, and her brain seemed tired and slug
gish. AS she stood on the corner she read
placard on the wall advertising an excur-
sion to the sea-shore. For one dollar one
person could go and return. As Agnes
read this she half smiled. For GONZALES
cent to go to the sea-shore was a proper
and usual thing to do. And it occurred to
her that she would best go. She would for
a dollar have two long rides, and she would
see the ocean, breathe the air The very
thought rested and inspired her, and when
the street car came along she got into it
with some spirit, making up her mind
where to go for lodgings for the night,
Early the next morning she went to the
wharf bought her ticket, and crossed by
the ferry to the railroad station. IL was a
the river was all freshness and glitter, and
the islands which lay in the middle of it
we're green and beautiful. The trees hung
over, looking into the water, and the gulls
sailed ahead of the boat, To be in the
midst of people bent upon a holiday, to be
in motion and out in the air, and so be 60
ing somewhere, made Agnes feel as though
she were out of her mind, and that she
must pinch herself, and make sure her
sensations were normal.
But after she had been in the train for
an hour her excitement wore away, and
she sank into her usual depression, yet not
into her usual quiescent meod She had
during her illness bound herself to a GER
tain task, and she meant now to perform
it, In the night this had come to her
that the time, the opportunity had now
arrived, and this was the thing TO be done.
1t was no new thought Before she was i'll
it had been poor comfort lying ahead, and
in the hospital she had silently reflected up
on it day and night. The only question
was how she should do it, She knew how
much trouble and gossip there always was
in the miserable house where she must live,
and she also knew that if she died in one
Of them, and the alarm was spread, and
the police and the coroner called in, that
her history would be canvassed, and her
family hear it all. And she also thought of
the people who might keep the house in
which she should die, and that they might
it find loss to have a lodger kill herself in
one of their rooms
But to drown herself in the sea, and to
be swept out into the waste of waters, and
only God and the angels know-that con
tented her, and took away all her perplex
tiles because when one has an imagina-
ton aud comprehension of details and some
thought of others, it is not entirely easy
to decide upon how it is best to die,