Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1892-01-08
HOW MARC'IE DIED.
d Homely Story From the Daily Iif,
of u uomeiy People.

1
of "a Homeiy People.
The Illinois Central train was half a
hundred miles out OF Chicago, h aadod
for the city. and at n little station an
old farmer came aboard. saws the
Chicago Nail. lilo was little, woa,-
ened. man. with sensitive
mouth. half-concealed By an iron-gray
beard. His ill-fittlng clothes were
evidently his most uncomfortable best,
and he moved awkwardly and stiffly
in them. There were no vacant seats
ind, after some hesitation. the old
man slid softly into one occupied by IA
grave stranger. intent upon his
| paper. Tho old man was i'll at ease
and as he turned his carc-wora, bag
gard face toward the brown. flying
| landscape 1t showed marks of some re-
| cent trouble The stranger laid aside
his paper after awhile and half-wist.
fully. the old man glanced at him. He
spoke at last with a strange huski-
ness:
I'm goin' to the city for the second
time in my life" he said. half-s artlds
at his own voice.
'Yes?' and in the intoaation of the
others there was an invitation to 90
| on.
The second time" repeated the
old man; thirty years ago come
June l went there for weddin' suit,
and Pm a-goia' back there to-day for
a coffin and a shroud for-the little
woman that-married me-"
His voice broke and turning again
to the window, he looked out upon tho
dull, cold landscape and was silent
many minute.
You don't know what 1t is. mister;
you can't understand" and he was
crying very softly and 'hopolossly
You don't know what it is to live and
work 'longside II woman for thirty
years day in and day out. to find her
always patient and willin' and workin
AND then leave her q luyin' doad
and cold with hor worn-out hands
crossed on her breast You don't havo
any idee what it is, +" and the sleeve OF
the old man was drawn ALPHABETICALLY
across his eyes.
live be n thinkin good doal since
last night when Marg'ie died; it kind
er puts man to his thoughts, 1t was
just little after the turn O the night.
and nobody but me was watchin'.
! whom she kinder woke up like rs If
sho boon asleep.
David says she. its restful-so
rcstful, and l took hold OF her hand;
is that you a-singin'. David% says
she. Go on, but hadn't sung q word
and couldn't a-done it go on. David >
says she. and I'll be restin', for I'm
so tired And SO she went to sloep
again and walked up in eternity"
And do you know. stranger. them
words o bern have set me to think
in. Poor, tired soul! and I never
thought how much she needed rest,
l thought as | set there watchin' her
breath a-goin' out last night that
mcbbe we'd made mistake of it all.
We never thought Of it while we was
a-workin' and a-skimpin' and a-savin'
-tryin' to make both ends meet and
to lay up somethin' for the children.
But thought about it all last night
when only me and her was waitin' for
tho last She never had no pleasure.
She never took no holidays nor visited
like other wimmin. She raised the
children and stopped pigs and MIXED
cows and churned and cooked for har
vest hands. | never knowed nor
thought how she done it all till saw
them poor crossed hands with little
white posics in EN-. Some 'un O. the
neighbors put 'em there and it kinder
choked me when l looked. / knowed
she'd never had no time for posies
when she might have smelled 'em.
She didn't have time for nothin' but
the. thorns, mister, and-that's what
! hurts me-"
After moment he looked up through
his tears.
Some folks may low it won't do
no good. mister and his voice grow
stronger ''but I'm a-goin to see that
she's put away in somethin rich. We
wasn't skimpin' and savin' thirty years
for this, but I'm a-goin' to have the
best money1l buy. She's earned it,
God knows; and she's earned some.
thin else-shes earned that white
raiment that the good book says Is
washed in the blood OF the lamb"
The old mans voice sunk into that
reve-ent whisper so common to the
God-fearing of his class at The utter
ance OF holy things and in the ST.
lence which followed he sank into a
reverie. He was awakened from il
only by the stopping of the train al
Van Buren, street At the door of the
Car he shook hands with his com
panion, and moment later was swat
lowed up in the crowd.
1t was pitiful-all OF it. And yet
there was passenger on that train
who is the better man for recalling 1t;
the better man for the recollection OF
the old farmers look and gesture. and
for the thought that there are silver
handles to tho coffin that holds his
sacred dust, lying out under a dark
mound amid tho barren brown of an
Illinois prairie.