Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1894-12-08
SILENT SISTERS.

Iney nau quarFeleu Ill BlflnOOu anu
mutually declared their intention never
to speak to each other again, wetting
and drying their forefngers to the ac-
compartment of an ancient childish in
cantation, and while they lived Oh the
paternal farm they kept their foolish
oath with the stubbornness of slow
country stock, despite the alternate
coaxing and chastisement Of their par
ents, Notwithstanding the perpetual ev-
eryday contact Of their lives, through
every vicissitude of season and weather,
of sowing and reaping, of sun and shade,
of joy and sorrow.
Death and misfortune did not recon.
Gle them, and when their father died
and the old farm was sold up they
travelled to London in the same silence,
by the same train, in search Of similar
situations. Service separated them for
years, though there was only stones
throw between them. They often stared
at each other in the streets. Honor, the
elder, married local artisan; ~ years
later Mercy, the younger, married fell
low workman of James husband. The
two husbands were friends and often
visited each others houses, which were
on opposite sides Of the same sordid
street, and the wives made them well
come. Neither Honor nor Mercy suffered
an allusion to tho breach. TWAS under
stood that their silence must be received
in silence
Each of the sisters had a quiverful of
children, who played and quarreled to-
gether in the streets and in one anoth-
er's houses, but not even the street af-
trays and mutual grievances the chill
dren could provoke the mothers to
words They stood at their doors in i'm
potent fury, almost bursting with the
torture of keeping their mouths shut
against the effervescence of angry
speech. When either lost child, the
other watched the funeral from her
window, dumb as the mutes.
The years rolled on, and still the
river of silence flowed between their
lives. Their good looks faded. The bur-
den of life and of their childbearing
was heavy upon them. Gray hairs
streaked their brown tresses, then brown
hairs streaked their gray tresses. Tho
Fuckers of ago replaced the dimples OF
youth. The years rolled on, and Death
grew busy among the families Honor's
husband died, and Mercy lost a son,
who died week after his wife. Cholera
took several Of the younger children.
But the sisters themselves lived on, bent
and shriveled by toll and sorrow even
more than by the slow frost of tho years.
Then one day Mercy took to her death
bed. An internal disease, too long neg.
lected, would carry her off within a
week. So the doctor told Jim, Mercy's
husband.
Through him the news Travelled to
Honor's eldest son, who still lived with
her. By the evening it reached Honor
As Honor entered Mercy's sickroom,
with pursed lips, light leaped into the
wasted, wrinkled countenance OF the
dying creature. She raised herself slight
~ I'LL UCuy lcI lips puItOeS tAASh "ANp
tightly, and her face darkened.
Honor turned angrily to Mercy's hus-
band, who hung about impotently.
"Why did you let her run down 50
low?" she said. II didn't know" the
old man stammered, taken back by her
presence even more than by her ques.
ton. "She was always a woman to say
nothin.
Honor put him impatiently aside and
examined the medicine bottle Oh the
bedside table.
"Isn't it time she took her dose?"
II dessay.
Honor snorted wrathfully. whats
the use of a man?" she inquired as she
carefully measured out the fluid and
put it to her sisters lips, which opened
to receive it and then closed tightly
again.
"How is your wife feelin now?"
Honor asked after pause.
"How are you now, Mercy?" asked
the old man awkwardly. The old wom-
an shook her head. ''I'm a-goin fast,
Jim,' she grumbled weakly, and q tear
Of self pity trickled down her parch-
ment cheek.
"What rubbidge she do talk" cried
Honor sharply. "Why dye stand there
like tailor's dummy? Why don't you
tell her to cheer up?"
"Cheer up, Mercy" quavered the old
man hoarsely.
But Mercy groaned instead and
turned fretfully on her other side, with
her face to the wall.
"I'm too old; I'm too DID," she
moaned. This is the end O. me-"
did you ever hear the likeT Honor
asked Jim angrily as she smoothed his
wife's pillow. "She was always con-
ceited about her age, settin herself up
Is the equals Of her elders, and here ON
I, her elder sister, as carried her In my
arms when was and she was ., still
hale and strong, and with no mind for
underground for many long day. Nigh
three times her age ] was once, mind
you, and now she has the imperence to
talk Of dyin before me-"
She took of her bonnet and shawl