Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-06-09
To THE POOREOUSE.
No! But in One Brief Moment to the House
MOI Made with Hands,

The county hous9 wagon drew up at the
old farmhouse door in the ear y morning
light and the poor overseer got out and
knocked on the door with the butt end Of
his whip.
Hey, quavered a thin voice within,
WHO'S there?"
We've come fer ye, mother" said the
ovtrseer.
Who calls me mother? asked the
tremulous voice, and then the door Was
opened by shaky hand and an old woman
dresseds,n shawl and hood, stood in the
doorway.
u member" she said slowly, podding
| towards the wagon, Its the sci, ctmen an
| pose they know best, but If Jim knew
! film knew-that his poor mother
was goin' to the poorhouse 1t 'ud break
his heart"
AR ye ready, mother? asked the man
gently.
Yee, be. amt slept sence | heerd
ye we're comm for me. It's all right, an
[ don't blame We, but 1t 3 hard &c hev
then die in the poorhouse It'll a. most
kill Jim when he knows.
The man on the doorstep coughed and
turned away, pretending to examine the
wlsteria vine that b!ossomed over tie door.
Not for worlds would he have told her
| that he was only carrying out Jim's orders
gainst the time he should bring his wife
to the cid farmhouse
She came out slowly, looking with
vague, wondering eyes At all she was leav-
ing: the trees she and Harvey-that was
her husband-had planted when they we're
young, at the bed of cinnamon pinks and
the lilac bushes at the gate. She stopped
and gathered some OF the fragrant south =
wood-'old man." they called it
and then she looked up at the window of
one room-bridehood, wifehood, mother
hood, angelhood, that meant to her. Little
Carrie had died there, Harvey had looked
his last in the heaven of her eyes there.
That was nigh on to forty years ago
Why, where was God this fair summer
morning that he had forgotten her, and
| let her go to the poorhouse?
Hurry up mother" said the man gent
ly; we're to call for another paup-pas-
senger bit lufther down the road. Tain't
much you're a-Ieavin' with a short
laugh. He was trying to make the best
OF it for her.
He helped her into the Wagon, and in
the golden light of another day they
moved on. jogging along the country road
sweet with the scented life of nature, until
| they reached the stie that led into the old
graveyard where the sentinel stones shone
among the trees in their strange, dumb
whiteness.
'On, eff you didn't mind-if Just could
say word to Harvey-it would help me
so much, an | wouldn't be long-I would
not keep you waltin'"
''All right, mother The overseer
! jumped out and helped her to the ground
Don't be long; there's good soul, " and
he lit his pipe and talked to the driver,
| apolcgizing for his weakness.
Tain / like as if she were a common
pauper, lie said; there are folks here as
remember when she vas the belle OF the
county, and they do say it is this son Jim
that has run through with the property
al is gettin her out of the way SO he
! won have 20 pay for her Seep. | would
not tell her that for house aud lot"
| She wouldn't believe yer if yer did, >
| said the driver. sententiousIy but she S
takin her time in yonder."
No. 1t was not time she was taking,
but eternity. When the oversser went to
lock for her she lay, with her withared
cheek pressed on the moss-grown stone
that bore the name of her husband, and a
smile that seemed to be a reflected glory
from Paradise liz up her peaceful face. 1t
had come to her n one brief u,oment, the
assurance that she would not go to the
po0rhouse, aud then-she had gone home
Detroit Fre5 Pre- SIS.