Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1893-07-20

IL was still raining, but the electric
railway car bore him quickly home
ward.
Silence greeted him rs he entered the
hall but, upon opening the door to his
wife's chamber his oldest sister met
him. strange look upon her usually
cold face
"Maryl' he gasped, "when did YOU
come, and what has happened2"
u came an hour ago, luckily. As for
what has happened, I'll leave YOU TO
answer that Look at our wifel"
"She isn't dead, is shep There's color
In her cheeks"
mo, she isn't dead-yet. Look here.
Charlie, do you know what these areP"
and she held up before him bundle OF
what appeared TO be rags, soaking
wet Your wife's cloak, dress and
skirts, and these are her shoes. Please
examine them; don't see how she
kept them on her feet, suppose they
are the kind you provide for her"
But where has she been" gasped
Mr. Atwood ITO get 50 wet?"
II asked the little Irish girl, who has
taken the children over TO their house.
about IL, and she said that Mrs. Atwood
went downtown TO the stores, and that
she walked there aud back, and without
an umbrella"
| "Walkedm
Yes. You may understand why; I
| don't"
just then a smothered sob reached
Mr. Atwood and he discerned a pair of
chubby legs in darned old stockings.
sticking out from a mass Of bed clothes
at the foot Of the bed
ITS Johnny. lie was so wild with
grief had not the heart TO send him
away, and he won't do her any hurt
See his feetl and they nre soaking wet,
and must DO attended to-"
MIR. Atwood flushed hotly at the
sight OF those toeless shoes.
| "She went TO get him a pair this
morning. But why don't you send for
doctorp"
He has been here and gone; every.
thing has been done that can be. This
Is the bundle your wife brought home
with her. These are her winter shoes.
! suppose, and you can see how suitable
they are; the price marked on them is
one dollar and ten cents"
Mary" began Mr.. Atwood, plain
lively.
"fou asked me what had happened.
You see am trying 20 find out, and
think | shall before got through. |
want you TO see something else In this
bundle. This roll OF coarse red flannel
no doubt is for petticoats for the little
girls but what do you suppose this is
for2" sternly.
Mr. Atwood gazed down upon small
quantity Of soft white flannel. "Idon't
know" he said helplessly.
"Thank God | never marricdl' cried
his sister earnestly. IL might not have
known myself n the doctor hadn't In.
timated that that was what made the
case SO critical"
Mr.. Atwood understood now. and
went 10 the bed and kneeled down.
Mabel" no said, brokenly. "oh, my
| wifel"
THAT Is all, " said his sister, Rrimly.
| You were always selfish. Your moth
er (who | am glad wasn't mine) helped
TO make you so. But never supposed
you could be quite so cruel. and 10 your
own Your income OF fifteen hundred
dollars a year will admit Of com.
Portable living for all-had Il been
shared Johnnie, dear, must get Oft
these wet old shoes, or we shall have
another sick member Of the family"
"Oh, mammal mamma" moaned tho
child.
1--WE will do everything we can, " said
Aunt Mary, kissing the tear-wet cheek
"she looks better, think"
She lived-at the sacrifice Of the little
life that was to be. Lived, and began
TO grow stronger, and TO smile upon her
children once more.
Aunt Mary was at the head OF the
household, and a new reign had been in
augurated. As for Mr.. Atwood, his wife
wondered what had come over him. lie
had sat by her bedside night and day,
doing all lac could for her, In his awk-
ward fashion, but with u tenderness
that surprised her. lie had won the
tlmid little girls 10 sit upon his knee
and romp with him as they had never
dared TO do before.
Mamma" said Johnnie one day.
"how pretty you are, your cheeks are
10 red and your hair crlnlsles all around
your head"
Then Johnnie's father laid his hand
upon that head, and said:
"Mabel, II you can forget my heart
less thoughtlessness, my cruel selfish
ness, / will see that from this time out
my wife and home are my first thought.
| never knew how loved you until
was afraid ! was going to have 10 give
you up forever. Can you still love me
little?"
The happy mother smiled fondly on
him, and answered.
~ have always loved you, and / sup
posed II was only mans way"
Aunt Mary, who had CHANGED In at
this instant, shifted audibly.
81 was thankful before that had
never married, and now I'm thankful
I'm not man. call such ways a.
you attribute 10 the common man or
husband, SIN"
Never mind,' said her brother,
you've had sphere, and you've filled
1t nobly; and the contest room in my
home evermore IN set aside for brave
Aunt Mary, who shook the family
skeleton before my eyes until |