Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1893-10-06
A SECOND OOURTsHIP.

The Thursday evening meeting was
over. Some one had opened the outer
chapel door, and a stream of cold air flow
ed in up to the corner where a group of
women were gathering about the stove.
"Nancy Bell amt out tonight, is she?'
asked one of them, stout, good-natured
woman in mourning.
Her neighbor had a sallow, much
wrnkled, complaining face. She shook
her head Significantly, holding her warmed
wooden glove against her cheek.
I've heard she was failing considerable
lately" continued the other,
Ssh! don't speak so loud. She hasn't
ever got up from the grip last winter. |
shouldn't be surprised if she didn't last
long. He don't realize it, it amt likely
men amt apt to-
An old man in a faded brown oveTcoat,
on the other side of the stove, stole silent
ly away to the door. 1t seemed to Daniel
Bell that it had grown colder in the last
hour. The keen air smote him as the
women's words had done just now. He
made his way up to the shed where his
horse was tied, turning out of the path as
he heard others coming up behind him in
the darkness. He did not want to speak
to anybody. He was so slow about UNI
hitching that Jim, the old horse, looked
around at him in surprise, and was dimly
conscious that something was wrong, as
the two started off on the lonely drive to-
gether.
What had those women meant by speak
ing of Nancy like that?-as if it had been
anybody? If they lived with her moren
forty years, as he had, they wouldn't have
talked that way
Nancy had been pretty SICK he knew
that well enough-hadn't he taken care of
her?-and if there was anything peskier
than the grip, he didn't want to see it,
that's all. Anybody else might have got
discouraged and given up, but it took
more than that to get the better of Nancy.
She had weathered it as she had weathered
everything that had come alongside was
smart, Nancy was.
She got lonesome, that was it. 1t came
hard on her to have the boy get married
and settle out West. 1t had been hard on
him, too; but he had Nancy. She was al
ways fond of company around, always had
been. Never'd been what you'd call hand
some, but she was so lively and quick,
and had ways that would get around any
man on earth. He had wondered some
times how she came to take him. he was so
slow; but her mother used TO say-he
could think just how she said it-"Well,
Dan'l may be slow, but when he does git
anywhere, why, there he is, right there,
an he amt goin' to leaven'
They logged along the frozen road, the
old man mechanically pulling on the reins.
More than forty years. He could hardly
remember just how many; what came be-
fore seemed of less account. Why, he
couldn't get on without Nancy! She was
a part of him; there was nothing to be
said about it, it was right there; just Nan
cy. He couldn't get along without her.
1t was no use talking. He couldn't.
The horse turned into the yard of his
own accord. Daniel embarrassed him
with stiff fingers. The barn was warm,
and had a Clean dry smell. Daniel was
careful of his horses. Jim reached his
head up to the old mans shoulder, and he
stood there minute, patting his neck
heavily.
81 thought it was about time for you,
Dan'l,' said his wife, as he opened the sit
ting-room door. She was looking up at
him with her usual SMILE but through the
dazzling lamp light, which made the room
swim before his eyes, it was not her face
that he saw, it was Nancy, the wife of his
youth.
Mrs Bell was a pretty little old woman,
whose cheeks still wore a little of their
Od-time color. The softened look in her
black eyes had not been there in earlier
days. She was knitting a stocking, and as
Daniel drew his chair to the other side of
the table, and opened his weekly paper,
she glanced at him, and stifed a sigh as
she returned to her needles. When Daniel
got fairly to reading, it was for all the rest
of the evening, But Daniel was not read
ing. He was using the paper as a cover
behind which to watch his wife: the feeble
ptf1 loI 81, 10, l. ~
cough choked back now and then: the
busy hands. Something in those rheu-
matte hands as they piled the yarn present
ly made him say, hesitatingly:
81 wouldn't do any more tonight, Nan
cy."
''What say, Dan'l?"
81 wouldn't knit any longer tonight, if
/ was YOU
"Why, l want to get these stockings
done. 'TwOnt be long fore you need
EN-" Her voice was still brisk and de-
cided.
81 guess / could make out to buy some
at the store, if worst come to worst" sug-
gested Daniel, with faint-hearted attempt
at pleasantly.
"Well, l don't intend you shall have to
wear out any slazy boughten stockings,
while liye!" she answered.
The newspaper rustled in Daniels trem-
bling hand. The letters on the printed
page stared at him in their backness.
"While l liye!" Every thing struck the
same chord tonight. He breathed hard.
He was like a deaf mute who lacks the
signs to put him in touch with life. Even
to himself he could not think in words.
1t was all summed up in one inarticulate
feeling: to move heaven and earth to keep
Nancy with him few years longer. He
brought an extra bedqult from the press
room and laid it on the foot of the bed, in
case she should feel cold in the night, and
long after she had gone to sleep and the