The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1893-11-10
NEVER 100 LATE.
How the CID Folks Proved the
Adage True One.

father and mother would have to end
their days apart.
Because" said Matilda, the young
est, sit wouldn't do for any one of us to
try to take care of them both together
We've always had to live in the quarrel
and jangle ourselves, and to have the
example of 1t before our children would
be downright SIM"
| Jane, the older daughter, said moth
ing, but she thought to herself that If
her husband were worth as much as
Matilda's was she would take both par
ents to her home and risk the example
| they might set for the third generation.
But ever since Matilda had first
isped her voice had settled family mat
ters, and so father was to go with Jane
to the city and mother to move over to
the great red-brick farmhouse which
was Matilda's home.
s'Mother will be right handy about
the work" Matilda said to her hus band,
when he showed some inclination to
object ''And there isn't a better hand
in the country with children. We won't
lose anything"
So the September morning came
when the couple who had never parted
in fifty years bade each other fare
we'll, much as mere acquaintance
would have done.
| Father, dressed in his best clothes,
muttered 'Good-by" in defiant sort
Of way and hobbled out to the spring
| wagon, while Jane paused to kiss the
| little old woman who sat looking out
| of the window in an Indifferent way.
| ''Good-by, mother. hope you will
be happy with Mat Won't you come
20 the door and see father off?"
COIL dunno as it's wuth WHILE" re-
turned the old lady, and then Jane, too,
was gone.
When she was sure the spring wagon
was out of sight Mrs. Paine put on her
| yingham bonnet and walked over to
| the cemetery just up the hill.
The graves where she paused were
not well tended-no engraved stones
marked their places and the grass was
.ut away only enough to outline the
mounds. Two were small, those of in
fants; one was that of a mans size, and
they were all her children, two daugh-
ters and one son. The son was her old
EST child and he would have been
forty-eight or forty-nine years old now.
| He had died while studying for the
ministry. She had seven children liv-
| ing, but in her times of trouble and
sorest trial she had always wandered
over to this sacred spot ever since it
was first made thirty years ago.
To-day she sat down in the sun-dried
grass and cried for some time.
"He might a-said something MORE"
she sobbed to herself. And then she
heard Matilda calling and hurried back
| to the house
The months passed slowly. AT Christ
mas-time there was some talk OF re-
union, but the talk did not materialize.
Letters came from Jane saying IA
ther was tolerably contented, but missed
his Ioafing place at ''The Corners"
He sent his regards to mother. Jane
always added that of her own accord,
for father never sent any word to any
one But when Matilda answered the
Did mother always told her to inquire
after fathers health and to send her re-
spects.
1t was one warm day in March that
the little old lady's cup seemed full to
overflowing. Matilda had gone to town,
and the children were unusually quar-
relsome and boistrous. The grand
mother had reproved them mildly, and
at last she spoke little sharply.
brothers and sisters shouldn't
wrangle the hull timel You ort to say
a decent word to one nuther onct in
awhile, anyways!' she said.
Lucy. the chief culprit, tossed her
head disdainfully.
Il guess you needn't to talk, grand
ma! Mamma says you and grandpa al
ways lived like cats and dogs"
''And you're ivin' off papa, now,
too," added George, emboldened by his
sisters example, and not particular as
to whether his remarks were called for
or not.
Mrs Paine sat very still for a mo-
ment. Then bright red spot famed
on each cheek, and gathering up her
knitting she slowly went to her room
upstairs.
Yes, it was true. But what had
caused it? They had married young
and for love only, for neither had any
worldly wealth. how had the trouble
commenced? She could not remember
exactly, but the children were the
main causes. The babies came fast and
the mother had to work hard. Sick
ness and hard work do not sweeten a
woman's temper. The father was i'm
patient and easily rebuffed-that was
how it commenced.
Then the jarring eliminated In one
great quarrel, when Henry, the Oldest,
was sent away to school. His father
wanted to hire him out when he was
tious and Henry had finished the course
at the village academy with high hon.
ors.
He was thirsting for moro study-a
bright, handsome lad, and his mother
was so proud of him-and he went
away to college But never again was
there peace between the parents At
college Henry was converted to religion
end decided to study for the ministry
then he was stricken with typhoid
fever, and the greater part of his moth
er's heart was buried with him in. the
village GENE terry.
The poor little faded mother sat there
recalling the long-lost years, now with
a thrill, now with a pang, earthly am
bitions and death-despairs strangely
mingled, and not noting the silence in
the rooms below until the sun was near
setting. Then Matilda's voice was call
Ing through the house and the mother
f,.s1 To-.