Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-09-10
IIiF WIDOW IN THE l..

Il -'tSi y I'll MIS-. DulieIKl!l uOlngS, let
ing the L. Mr. Buterkin had objected
TO the proceeding, but mildly, as was be-
coming in the good humored hu band of a
there seemed some foundation for her pet
10 water" Grievousiy tormented by
nerves, she longed for womanIy sympathy,
aud on Nj. Ebbeson's decease, nothinc
would do but his widow should sci! heT
farm and occupy the Butterkin l.; for had
not Ruth and she been dear friends from
girlhood? After due deliberation Mr..
base of the building.
| \ bu Y little woman was Ruth Ebbesop.
@s >he had need to be, her intemperate.
worthless husband having Ifs her barely
| snOugh to make both ends meet. IF she
could lap them comfortably, it must be by
! ter own exertions with the edle. And
..s she sat cheerily stitching by her invalid
mo- hers couch, MIS-. Butterkin would
ctten run in with beans to pick over or
appIes to pare, while on rainy days, obedi-
ent to his wife S suggestio Mr.. Butter
ain did many d neighboriy curn in way OF
carpentry. Tie two ia miles were almost
d. one. Indeed, the letting of the l. SCENE Il
p1oVlden, arrangement for al parties. 1t
was a r 9lief to Mrs. Ebbeson TO be rid Of
| her farm; 1t Was we'll that her mother
~hould he wIthID easy access OF a pbysi-
! clan. Especially was 1t Cf advantage to
| Mrs. Butterkln to enjoy the cheerful con
| panIonshlp, and whatever was Of advant-
! age to Mrs. Butterkln necessarily affected
| Mr.. Butterkin.
thus years gilded on, bringing mental
| vlgOr to the nerve-djSeaspd Mrs Buttarkiu
| She had never seemed in better health than
II the fatal spring when she was pros
| tratPd by pneumonia, death stricken from
| the first
The Lord wills it, Ruth. and | don t
feel to murmur, she whispered with ds-
ing grace; but husband ii MISS NE. I
know. You II keep an eye on him, won t
YOU, dear, when am gone. and m Ike him
comfortabIe?'
Mrs. Ebheson sohbed a promise: bnt
after Mr.. Butterk in's bereavement she
found he covenant embarrassing, for In
| this oublunary world Of ours widow who
| keeps her eye" on a widower challenges
unpleasant comment, and little Mrs. Eb
bosom deprecated the speech of people.
| Consequently, though she conscienhousiy
ministered to Mr., Butterkins comfort.
It was In uno5trusive ways not suspected
by him, and hardly realized by the niece
who kept his house. Tie door between
he two sitting rooms no longer, as form.
erIy, stood lnVltlngly Jar, but was hasp
ed upon the widows side She never pass
ed through it now, save in the gentleman 5
absence, wnen she occasionally assisted the
inexperienced Esther in compromising ms
| tavOrlte dishes, or suCertitiOuslv possessed
herself Ct his fine mending. With his
| wlfe's demise the old free and easy life
had ended. They were two distinct
nouSehQlds, growing farther and farther
apart, as the weed upon the widower's Esar
waXed rusty beneath the accumulated
| months OF mourning. 1t could scarcely
have been otherwise. The closed door
was but symbol of the barrier which.
IN the very nature of 1hing-, must exis.
between the bereaved Mr.. Butterkin and
slmll ,riy bereaved Mrs. Ebbe. on. When
a rig hand glove has lost It's mate. and A
eft has met with Il like calamity. one
naturally desires to fit the remaining two
| together, IT happily they make pair, and
| the widow shrank sensltively at thought
OF the neIghhors thus mentally matching
herself and Mr.. Butterkin. As far as in
| her lay she tried tG make itapparent to
| them that the twain were two odd ones,
which could by no possibility be mated.
But not so the gentleman in gu stion
That people should gossip never entered
his head. If in Roxapnas lifetime. to
please her, he had done her dear Ruth
frequent neighboIly favors, all the more
would he do them now that Roxanna lay
cold In death. And as day after day went
by, and he felt more and more closely
drawn to the cheerful, bright,eyei widow
the simple man believed this was solely
for his departed wife's sake. She had
heen dead Il year and a day. when Mrs
Ebbe3on wh,sked out upon the door s,et
one warm July morning to shake the
tabecloth.
'Oh, my sars!' calculated she, look
ing not into the armament, out straight
earthward at her hens darting hither anC
you fer the breakfast crumbs. In the
midst of the fl)ck bristled t,1o Brahmas
with sullen eyes and features on end
clu king for chickens that were not.
,'Anything wrong, Ms. Ebberson?'.
Mr. Butterkln paused on his way from
the barn with his milk.
"Ony these Brahms, Mr. B ntterkln
I've broken EN- up and broken EN- up
but they will SET (Mrs. Ebberscn hac
been reared i'll a rural part of new Eng
land where hens never 'Sit.'0
well, why not let emp
'In July? New. Mr.. Butterkin!'
Then surprising you tie red yarn abou
their feet
why they'd peck my eyes out" laugh
ed the widow, dexterou,Iy folding tn
table-cloth in its former creases.
She vas sorry the moment she had saiI
it, for Mr.. Butterkin at onced offered f,
assist In the girdling process. Why shout,
he not? Yet as he held the hens, first on
and then the other. while she bound abou
he right !eg OF each anti-incubating ank
let, she was inwardly a2itated, and couIC
not help being thankful it was earl,
morning, and they were not likely to u
seen of passers-hy.
No such feeling perturbod Mr. Batter
kin. He was honestly glad to he'll
Roxanna 5 friend-becauSe she had bee,
her friend. he would Lave said if h.
thought about The matter at all; and in th
kindness of his heart he presently asked !
the chickens bran was not getting low
He was going to the vii age; should h
call at the mill.
or. if you have any errands, ca
take you over as well as not, he adden
As an after thought, and was mildly be
.'lldered at seeing he sudden flush on he
face as she huIriedly answered that sh