Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1893-03-02


ought to mind her own business.
But after all he had himself to
blame. BY his own confession his
wife was hard worked woman. 1t
was too humiliating! He had prid.
ed himself upen being kind to an
finals and considerate toward help.
Was it possible he had been cruel
to his own wife: tt must look so,
or good woman like Mrs. Bradley
would not have spoken as she did.
The deacon was a good man. He
was not going to spare himself now
that his eyes were getting wide open.
He went back over the years when
they first came to this farm, when
'Cynthy' was young and bright.
She used to talk and laugh then.
What had changed her into the
silent woman she now was? IF her
busy hands and leet should be still
forever!' What awful words! He
had no more calculated on any
change of that kind than that the
old eight-day clock which had licked
on for forty years should suddenly
leave its place. And then that
dreadful thought about farmers
wives becoming insane. He had
read enough to know that melan-
choly is one species of insanity.
What il that state should be slowly
coming upon his wife, for certainly
she grew more silent and sad year
by year. 1t must be that she did
work too hard, for when he came to
reckon it up and tell over to Mrs.
Bradley all the work she done sum-
mer and winter, it was more than
he had supposed. How could she
get any time for reading or going
out? And now that he thought of
it, she never went anywhere, except
to church, and not always then be-
cause often she was too tired. How
different it used to be! Once she
frequently went to town with him
and they occasion ally took tea with
neighbor or drove in to the sewing
society. But lately work had been
so pressing that there had been no
time for going orinviting company.
He had just gone on buying more
land and more cows and and en-
plOying more men, so adding to her
labor, while she had but the one
helper they used to have when the
farm was small. And rs if this was
not enough he had encouraged her
to go OH taking summer boarders
occasionally, as she had herself sug-
gested long ago. one year when the
crops had failed. And he, pretend
ing to think she did it all because
she loved work so much. That was
all stuff He had seen her stand
in the door and look after him
when he rode off to town on pleas
ant afternoon, and he had heard
something like a sigh just as he
started. The dear patient woman
had not complained or said sharp
words; he wished she had. then
maybe her pig-headed husband
might have seen things as they were.
The truth was the love of money
had taken possession of him, and
he had sacrificed everything.
lie had not even limited to his
wife that she must spare herself,
and he had forgotten to speak words
of praise. He hated himself! For
although he had been mean and
selfish and grasping, he still loved
the wife of his youth. What would
all the money and land he had
scraped together be to him when he
had laid her in the old burying
ground? The sturdy farmer, as he
sat there thinking these sharp truths
in the gathering shadows, realized
for moment the desolation of
going on without her. He bowed
his head and prayed with all his
soul that he might be forgiven, and
that he and his wife might go to-
gether hand in hand down the hill
to the gate that leads out of life to
life eternal.
The darkness had settled down
when Deacon Bates got up and went
into the house. He had gone over
everything. had reconstructed af-
fairs on new basis and made several
plans. He would have no difficulty
in carrying them out, for his word
had ever been law in his own house.
If he suggested anything it must be
done, and this was not on account