The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1892-01-29
SLAVE Or WIFE.

nJmeell lntO tne EOcRiuB SneiE AZ inc
kitchen and famed bis flushed face
with his straw hat. "a quarter of an
hour wasted very likely, waiting here !;
Right in the midst Of as fine q hay day
Is any man would wish to see. Now,
my mother used to have her lunch
ready to the minute whenever we came
came for it, and | don't see Why"
His jeremaid was checked by the
appearance Of his wife. who came out
Of the pantry, tunging along the great
lunch basket, almost too heavy for her
strength.
Farmer brewster was young man,
10 spite Of his grumbling. Only 2S,
tall. straight, healthy, with blue eyes.
rosy cheeks, fair fDrly hair---aDd hand
some face When it was MT darkened, as
now, BY scowl Of discomfort.
An only son, be had inherited large
and handsome farm, clear of mortgage
and debt, which supplied all the wants
Of his household most literally and
gave him nice little sum Of money to
deposit in the bank each year.
There was no reason why be should
be mean, yet misery habits we're grad
ually growing upon him far faster than
he knew.
Nor was there need of grumbling
over the household arrangements, since
the wife Of his choice was farmers
daughter who knew well how to work.
and who had taken delight in setting
her home in faultless order when first
she came as bride to the pleasant
Brewster place.
The same order reigned still, from
garnet to cellar of the square old house,
but Mrs. Brewster went through her
task mechanically now, or with nervous
haste and hurry that made them almost
uncomfortable sometimes.
The constant drop of water will wear
away stone; and the constant fault.
finding in which her husband cav fit to
indulge had nearly worn the patience,
the hope and the endurance out Of the
young wife's heart.
The comfort and happiness Of that
home hung upon thread, which fray
ed more and more, hour by hour under
the pain of anmerited blame.
Yet George Brewster saw nothing Of
this until the morning Of which | write.
.There is the lunch, and it is exact
y FIVE minutes past TO-" said Mrs.
Brewster, setting the basket down with
some emphasis at his feet. II was de-
layod that much with the butter. 1t
bad to be seen 20 before the sun got too
high
my mother always churned before
breakfast" observed George, rising
slowly to his feet.
His wife said nothing. but the color
rose holly 10 her cheekc till the lost
bloom Of her girlhood seemed to have
come back again, and she raised her
eyes to his with look that startled
him.
Very handsome eyes they were-- dark,
soft and velvety, with world Of love
aud tenderness in her depths. Yet now
they met his own cold.y and sternly
with. such an expression that he ex-
claimed:
.Good gracious Lefty. You look
as if you hated me y
II am afraid do" was the astound-
ing reply.
And with swift glance at the clock,
Lefty hurried down into the cellar with
knife and pan to make her prepare
lions for dinner for six hungry hay
makers.
"Afraid she hates me Ny wife
She that was LEFTY Glover!' muttered
be to himself in bis bewilderment.
"Why what on earth! She mnst be
going crazy OF something or other"
'.Letty !" he called at the cellar door
"It is ten minutes past TO-" she
answered from the depths of the cellar.
"If / don't see about the dinner now
Il won't be on the table at IL to the
minute, as your mother used to have.
I can't come"
swell if this don't beat all" said he
to the maltese and white cat who as
cended from the cellar and rubbed
herself against his legs.
Al shOut from the bayfield, reused him
tothe recollection of the days business.
He went ont and dispensed the treas.
urea of his basket among his hungry
men, who praised Letty's cooking with
every mouthful they swallowed.
at is enough to make an old bach