The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1893-04-29

vine which elambered over the woodnouse,
but Mrs. Bates seemed absent minded ana
less inclined to talk than usual. Ihere
was silence for minute while she worked
as if her life depended upon getting done
at a certain moment. Mrs. Bradley was
lust thinking how useless it was to try to
get anything out of such wooden woulani
when suddenly Mrs. Bates, without iittlne
her eyes from her work, jerked out qles-
ton.
Mrs. Bradley, should like to know
would you mind telling me-what it was
Daniel said that day up to Berkshire
Who ? Mr.. Bates? Oh, he said he had
the best wife in the whole country.
And then, searching her memory, Mrs
Bradley gave faithful report of what she
had heard.
1t was curious to note the effect Of her
words in the light which came into the
sad eyes, and the faint flush which stole
|
over the faded cheeks.
Did Daniel say that
The wistful tone and the starting tear
were pitiful to the other woman, who
affected not to see or hear anything. She
broke a spray of Towering currant and
said, as she tucked it in her belt and moved
away
Yes, he did, and quite agree with him,
and then remarked to herself, poor crea-
ture. she has a heart after all.
1t was an hour later, when Mrs. Brad
ley sat alone on the front piazza, that Dea-
con Bates, his chores all done, came and
sat on the upper step. He was man OF
much shrewd intelligence, who read his
weekly religious papers from end to end,
and liked occasionally to discuss an article
on doctrine with bright woman like Mrs.
Bradley.
His wife was still busy in the kitchen,
as the rattling of the milk pans occasion
ally testified. Mrs. Bradley's thoughts
followed the tired worker; her kind heart
longed to make the weary life of this
woman different If only somebody would
speak few plain words to her husband
she reflected, and get his eyes opened.
Why not do that yourself? said her
inner voice. She shrank from that, though
telling her conscience that perhaps she
would sometime if she got good opportu-
nifty.
The deacon, taking off his hat, ran his
fingers meditativs!y though his gray locks,
and opened up on an article he had read
that afternoon on the comparative merits
of a trade or profession compared with
farming.
In my opinion, he declared after descant-
ing at some length upon the subject, the
farmer has the best of it every time; its
healthy, independent sort of life, and he
doesn't have to work like slave the yeal
round In the winter he can get time to
tinker at odd jobs and do a sight of read
ing besides if he's so disposed.
Then Mrs Bradley could not resist say
ing:
And the farmers wives They, too
have good rest in the winter-fairly
earned, aren't they2
Oh, no, there's plenty of work, but it
isn't hard. In the fall, after the berries
are picked and put up, comes the drying
of apples and pumpkins. Then there's
sausage to make, and lard and tallOw tc
try out. When all that's done, there's q
lot of sewing and knitting and carpet rags
My wife makes her own carpets, and my
clothes and the boys, all but our Sunday
coats. Then it takes lot of cooking tC
keep three or four healthy appetites going
and we don't hire any help in winter.
His listener could scarcely keep indigna.
ton from her tones as she replied
Is it possible that all this is added to
the work of the summer? don't Won
der that according to statistics large por-
ton of the women confined in lunatic
asylums are farmers wifes. It is dreary
life, making woman into perfect drudge
Well, | don't know, the farmer answered
musingly; We must earn our bread by the
sweat of our brows.
The Bible says that works good for us
l guess it is, and wise provision of Prov.
idence. | don't know it's any worse fol
women than it is for men.
But it seems to me that the lot of farm
er's wife is less desirable than that of her
husband According to your own account
she has less leisure, and he seems to have
more variety in his work, and it is relieved
by small pleasures. In summer his work
is mostly out of doors; then he jumps into
his wagon and is off to town two or three
times a week on errands, and his neighboI
often happens along and leans on the fence
and talks At noon he takes a nap in his
chair or reads his paper few minutes
but according TO my observation a farmers
wife is drudge. She seems to have nj
time for these little rest places, and the
consequence is, all is dreary and monoto
nous. It is no wonder she loses her minC
and has paralysis, for her work is peyel
done.
Deacon Bates sat silent minute whil'
he thoughtfully strOked the gray stubbl'
on his CHM; then he said slowly:
| don't know, maybe it's so. neve
thought about it in just that way. Mrs
. | Rates came aronnd the corner ofthe hous,