Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-06-22
The light that never was on s sea s or land.

vanished from your daily comings and
goings. Other babes may be fairer, but
to the first one alone is 1t given 20
awaken the instincts of maternity, and
reveal to the amazed heart what depths
lay hidden within its recesses.
OF course, there is q difference in peo-
pie. as there is a difference in eircum-
stances. To the girl who has married
too soon, or who has given her hand
amiss, there is a weight of care or q
weight of trouble laid upon these days of
early married life that not only robs
them of their romance, but actually fills
them with darkness and revolt. To
such, time and usage alone can bripgt
relief or awaken that power of endur-
ance which is the sole salvation of some
of earth's unfortunates.
But the mass of women have but one
story to tell, even such as have met with
great worldly prosperity, and to whom
~ old age comes with an access of worldly
splendor " hioh was far from surround
ing them in earlier days.
l remember one case. An aged
mother, who had lived TO see her large
family of sons occupying positions of I'M
usual wealth and power in the financial
world, was asked what period of her life
she regarded with the greatest pleasure.
She replied, 1'The days when / lived
with my husband in a log cabin out
West, and had all my little ones about
n5z5.kne,. -
EYES, that is it. Memory loves the nav
row room, the low ceiling, the rough
walls, no matter how bare, because then
the little ones were about the knee,
looking up with trusting eyes and inno-
,,,&N g..
and beneath which they bloom without
any thought as yet of the feverish world,
with its hopes, its fears, its ambitions
and its alluremeuts.
Do you hear the sigh that unconsciously
escapes the lips of that proud and SEEM
ingly self-satisfed matron, who in all
the pomp of wealth and station rides
down the avenue in her carriage and sees
through its polished windows the young
mother trundling her baby and smiling as
her own lips have not smiled since that
gay and somewhat disspased young man
she calls her son was an infant?
Why does she sigh? Has she not a
home Of splendor, troop of seryitors,
unlimited means, and all that she once
thought would bring her unalloyed hap
<aness? Yes; yet the tears conn when
Izsjons such as these bring back pictures
of little golden head nesting on q
pillow in nursery white with innocence
aud mother q prayers.
Before that picture her palatial home
seems empty, and when she mounts the
steps and enters the massive portals, you
can see by the wistfuiness of her gaze
that her mind is not upon the objects of
beauty and splendor that surround her, ]
but upon another and dearer soene-a
shabby staircase possibly, numbered with
q broken drum and dismembered doll,
and worn by the tread of little feet.
There is no butler waiting In that hall,
but there is rush of tiny feet to well
come her. gush of infantile laughter,
CRY of Mamma! mammal" that more
than makes amends for the cold and me-
ohanioai service that alone receives her
now. Or so one judges by the ctart with
which she suddenly awakes TO the pres
emit and reassumes its cares, duties, and
requirements.
Then theirs is another pleasure attend
ant Rz<t he early years of womanhood
s s. Necessarily fails with growing ex-