News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1889-04-18

been before HIM. He wanted to mari
Jane Lawrence, and she would no
likes and dislikes cannot be controlled
and she cared more for Robert Thoml
| sons little finger than for the whole {
poor, undersiZed Joe. Squire Burnhal
found another wife, and Mrs. Thoml
son, this weary day, was furiOusly envy
| ing her: Mrs. Burnham would com
amidst the rest of the sewing club tot
and see the miserable shabbiness of til
mulberry ware, and the home generally
The unfinished butter got beaten sa,
agely at the thought.
All through the long forenoon Mr..
Thompson nursedsher wrath. Robel
was selfish and unreasonable, and sh
did not care who knew it. She woul
not have the sewing club at the farm
come what might. The potatoes go
boiled; the big piece of beef was sim
mering on the fire. Before Il o'clocl
she saw her husband and his two friend
coming through the orchard, with rec
and hungry faces. Mr.. Thompson alway!
wanted his dinner boiling hot, and she
Fastened to lay the Cloth in the COO
FOom of the kitchen. Frank and Charley
her two boys, came rushing in from
school, each striving to claim her atten
ton. She was tired, heated and very
cross.
"Why isn't dinner ready?" demand
ed Mr.. Thompson, not seeing it actually
on the table when he entered. 81 told
you we had no time to waste to. day, y
he added angrily, in his anger and hun
ger. elf l hadn't anything to do all
the forenoon but to get dinner I'd have
it ready in time, / know"
A bitter retort was springing to hel
lips, but ere it could be spoken Charlie
clamorously interposed, pushing his
new copy book before her eyes.
Look, mother, am going into SEN
tences now, like Frank. It's my first
copy. The master wrote it; and he
said was to get it by heart, too, and
always remember it. Do read it, mother. .
Mrs. Thompson, her arms full of the
cracked mulberry p'ates, paused a mo.
ment to let her eyes fall on the new
copy. GA soft answer turneth away
wrath " was what she read. 1t was not
that the proverb was new: she had read
thing in its appropriateness to the pres
C1iJ illOllltlt llliG 1CiI lIhc COOIy SMCCl
wind on her heated pulses.
"I will have it ready in q moment,
Robert" she said, quietly.
Mr.. Robert Thompson looked up.
Evidently he had not expected so pleas
ant a reply. If the truth must be told,
he had thought good bit that morning
about the white ware. Not in the way
of granting it, but that she would prob
ably be sulky over it when they got i'll
to dinner.
at doesn't feel here as it does in that
blazing meadow" he remarked to his
friends, as they went into the cool north
indoors this weather have an easy time
of it: they don't know what heat is. -
Mrs. Thompson wondered whether
this was a slap at her. Her face looked
scarlet enough for any amount of heat.
As to sitting down with them, she had
enough to do to wait on the party. 1T
was washing day, and Mollie must not
be called.
''This butter must have been kept in
he kitchen; it is like OIL" said Mr..
thompson.
ssI took it out of the cellar since you
.ame in; will go down and get you
some more, if you think 1 had better"
was the reply, given pleasantly.
''Nevcr mind. We'll, | declare, Do
you call this meat boiled 2" went on Mr..
as he began to carve. "It's
cooked pretty fresh this weather, it
needn't be like this.
GIVE tried to make it nice, Robert, "
she said, striving to choke down rising
sob as well rs an angry word.
Mr.. Thompson, aroused by quiver
in the tone, looked at his wife; his
friends looked ut one another. She sat
down at length, but could not eat. Mr.
Thompson finished his meal in silence.
He was watching his wife's face; there
was something in 1t he did not under
stand-a kind of patient, hopeless look,
as if she had no longer cared to struggle
The old mulberry ward did
look dingy on the snowy white
almost too bad for these
chums OF his to sit down to. He Won
dercd he had never thought of that be-
fore. Robert Thompson grew thought
full
He passed into the kitchen when they
were going out again-how hot and
sitting it felt with that big fire, as bad
rs the South meadow. His wife had
been in cooking, that must have made
her face scarlet. Indoors was not so
place after all, if you had
hot work to do, was the idea that fitted
through his mind And perhaps the
work was overmuch for his wife, who at
best was but delicate woman.
A fresh, cool breeze had sprung mp
from the south, as he went out, walking
slowly, but the sun was burning hot
still. Robert Thompson waited to wipe
his brows; and in that moment the voices
Of his comrades came toward him from
the other side of the hedge, where they
stood in the little shade it cast.
Il never pitied a woman so much in
my life, quoth one of them. ''She
works like slave, and does not get even
/ thank ye' for it from Thompson. He is
/ good fellow, but uncommon down
lpon the work. Strong as a horse him
elf, he thinks, l suppose, women must
De the same"
eyes, Bob's sterling good fellow,
,ut Jane Lawrence made q mistake
vhen she said yes to his asking" said
he other. "Jones, she wasn't cut ont
OF farmers wife, especially one who
,eeps his folks to it like Thompson does.
'he's over sensitiYe-delicate any lady
nut she would have turned long ago and
nd him give herproper help. He won't
make his money ont of her many years
he don't take better care of her; she'll
Irn down fast. Awfully changed she is;
he looks as faded as the old house rooms
and they haven't seen q coat of paint
ince grandfather Thompson's day.
''Ah, she'd better have took Joe Burn
IAN. The Lawrences used to have
hings nice i'll their home, and she'd
AVE got 'em so still if she'd married
'oe. His wife's just gone out in her
'ony shay. l say, Jones, [ wonder if
thompson s wife's ever sOTTy 2"
Was she2 The unconscious comments
f these, his warm friends, came rushing
own on Robert Thompson's heart and
rain like bolt of fire. That she re-
ected Burnham for him he knew, when |
he came home to the old homestead |
nd took care of his invalid mother.
had she done it, too. Could |
he be wearing out her life in hard work |
0r him; she, the mother of his boys;
he whom he loved well, for all his
hurlishness! Robert Thompson stole |
way; he could bear his thoughts no
niger, and he felt that he could al !
lost kill himself for his blind needless
ess.
The afternoon wore on toward even
lg. Mrs. Thompson had finished her !
door work-the washing up of the
inner dishes and the putting of the
IONS straight-and was going in with
4 armful of fine things she had taken
ON the clothes line, when the sound Of
heels made her look round.
sTsvo bro1ICrh+ 4bof x-rlita y,-o,n NTrc