The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1891-09-04
JENNY.

IL WAS ulSub L ue GdpiH, pUOTr uut
warm and cozy, was full of a half twi-
light, through which the objects of the
interior were but dimly visible by the
glimmer Of the embers which hickered
on the hearth and Redeemed the dark
rafters overhead The fisherman's nets
we've hanging on the wall. Some homely
pots and pans twinkled on rough shelf
in the corner Beside great bed with
long, falling curtains, q mattress was
extended on q couple of old benches on
which five little children were asleep
like cherubs in a nest. By the bedside,
with her forehead pressed against the
counterpane, knelt the children's mother.
She was alone. Outside the cabin the
black ocean, dashed with stormy snow
flakes, moaned and murmured, and her
husband was at sea.
From his boyhood he had been a fisher
man. His life, as one may say, had been
a daily fight with the great waters; for
every day the children must be fed and
every day, rain, wind or tempest, out
went his boat to fish. And while in his
four sailed boat he piled his solitary task
at sea his wife at home patched the sails,
mended the nets, looked to the hooks or
watched the little fire where the fish
soup was boiling. AS soon as the five
children were asleep she fell upon her
knees and prayed to heaven for her hus-
band in his struggle with the waves and
darkness. And truly such life as his
was hard. The likeliest place for fish
was a mere speck among the breakers,
not.more than twice as large as his own
cabin-a spot obscure, capricious, chang
ing on the moving desert, and yet which
had to be discovered in the fog and tenn
pest of a winter night by sheer skill and
knowledge of the tides and winds. And
there-while the gliding waves ran past
like emerald serpents, and the gulf of
darkness rolled and tossed, and the
straining rigging groaned as if in terror
there, amid the icy seas, he thought
of his own Jenny; and Jenny, in her
cottage, thought of him with tears.
She was thinking of him then and
praying. The seagulls harsh and mock
ing cry distressed her, and the roaring
of the pillows ON the reef alarmed her
soul. But she was wrapped in thoughts
thoughts of their poverty. Their little
children went barefooted winter and
summer. Wheat bread they never ate,
only bread of barley. Heavens the
wind roared like the bellows of forge,
and the seacoast echoed like an anvil.
She wept and trembled. Poor wives
b11cb 10 of Town;
BILE to say, "My dear ones-father, lover,
brothers, sons-are in the tempestP'
But Jenny was still more unhappy Her
husband was alone-alone without as
sistance on this bitter night. Her chill
dren were too little to assist him. Poor
mother! Now she says, 81 wish they
were grown up to help their father!''
Foolish dream! In years to come, when
they are with their father in the tempest,
she will say, with tears, 81 wish they
were bat children still!'
y
Jenny took her lantern and her cloak.
"It is time," she said to herself, ito see
whether he is coming back, whether the
sea is calmer, and whether the light is
burning on the signal mast" She went
out. There was nothing to be seen
barely streak Of white on the horizon.
1t was raining, the dark, cold rain OF
early morning. No cabin window show
ed gleam of light.
All at once, while peering round her,
her eyes perceived tunbledown old
cabin which showed no sign of light OF
FIRE. The door was swinging in the
wind; the wormeaten walls seemed
scarcely able to support the crazy roof,
ON which the wind shook the yellow,
filthy tufts of rotten thatch.
Stay" she cried, Il am forgetting
the poor widow whom my husband found
the other day alone and i'll. must see
how she is getting on"
She knocked at the door and listened.
No one answeeed. Jenny shivered in the
cold sea wind
"She is ill., And her poor childrenl
She has only two of them; but she is
very poor, and has no husband"
She knocked again, and called out,
Hey, neighbor" But the cabin was
still silent.
"Heaven" she said, show sound she
sleeps that it requires SO much to wake
herr
At the instant the door opened Of
itself. She entered. Her lantern illu-
mined the interior of the dark and silent
cabin, and showed her the water falling
from the ceiling as through the openings
of sieve. At the end of the room an
awful form was lying-a woman
stretched out motionless, with bare feet
and sightless eyes. Her cold, white arm
hung down among the straw of the pal
let. She was dead. Once strong and
happy mother, she was now only the
specter which remains of poor humanity
after long struggle with the world.
Near the bed on which the mother lay
two little children-a boy aud a girl
slept together in their cradle and were
smiling in their dreams. Their mother
when she felt that she was dying, had
laid her cloak across their feet and
! wrapped them in her dress, to keep them
warm when she herself was cold.
How sound they slept in their old, tot
tering cradle, with their calm breath
and quiet little facesl 1t seemed as il
nothing could awake these sleeping or
| phans. Outside the rain beat down il
foods and the sea gave forth sount
like an alarm bell. From the old crey