The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1894-10-27


were times when the remembrance of shin
ing, long-lashed. upturned eyes thrillet
him almost to pain, but-would Moral
ever look at him ike that
He cleared his throat before he spok'
again ''But you go to work. Wha
then? Is she alone p
.sWhy, she is, so to speak. | wouldn'
leave her if l could help it. But l al
ways commend her to the Lord before
90 out, and He ain I never failed us yet.
The doctor had mans hatred of cant
But he had sufficient insight by now int
the character of those with whom he dealt
to know that these words were as simple
and sincere as those which had preceded
them.
Il get up early in the morning, you
see, sir, said Temple, sand make our
breakfasts and attend to her Then be-
fore I start for work. m in an engineer s
employ-I just boards her up in bed so
as she can't fall out I'm back at dinner
hour, and we have it together. Then,
when leave work, my evenin' soon passes
There usually bit of cooking to be DONE
and washing up, and the room to be seen
to- An invalid must have things clean
about her; it ism agreeable to just lie and
look at everything dirty. | like Lucy to
keep bright-but there she always is;
and if occasionally she gets down | soon
cheer her up, don't |, Lucy? Me and
Sunny together Sunny-that' our bull
finch He's asleep, now, covered up, You
see, and won't disturb him. But by
day he's that lively He chirps and talks
away to Lucy; he's company for her, Sun
ny is, bless his little heart !
He told the story of his great unselfsh
life without any idea that it was either the
one or the other Indeed, he would have
been surprised if the doctor had followed
his inclination to wiring his hand and tell
tell him he was proud to make his acquain-
tance. And the doctor did not know the
extent of his self-sacriice He could not,
even if he had known, realize at once what
it meant to the tired workingman to rise
early in the cold winter mornings that
everything might be ready for the day be-
fore he started off. The room was tidied,
the fire was lit, breakfast was made, and
Lucy fed, before he touched morsel.
Other men have their wives to attend to
them roughly perhaps, but to some ex-
tent, kindly. Temple, however received
no help. He even did some of the wash
ing that money might be saved from the
laundress He gave Lucy little luxuries
When she had beef tea, he ate the taste
less meat from which all nourishment had
been extracted, and he enjoyed it the more
the more tasteless it was, for then he knew
it was likely the beef tea was good. If
she protested, it was useless; she had given
up protesting long ago. He did it and she
took it as a matter of course But she was
not ungrateful
His reward All, he had his reward.
He loved her better than he had ever done
in her days of youth and health and
beauty And what does true love ask but
the opportunity to serve? And she?
What she felt for him it would take bet
ter pen than mine to describe; rather,
defy any pen to describe it. l believe
even the angels who looked into that gar
not suffer nor need the tender ministry of
man. They do not know what it is to be
a burden where one fain would be a bur
den bearer, and yet to find not gloom nor
reproaches, but chiyalrous devotion Only
He who gave the heart of woman its needs
and Its powers could have understood how
this one regarded her husband-he, and
here and there another woman made wise
by suffering.
The doctor went away with the promise
to call the next day. Mrs. Temples in
disposition was so slight that it was evident
that her husband must have observed her
very closely to have noticed its symptoms.
As matter of fact, the sympathy between
them was so intense that he seemed always
to divine her thoughts and sensations.
She seldom spoke, and her hearing was
slightly affected. But they scarcely need
ed the medium of speech; and speech is
inadequate to express the highest feelings.
Those who are privileged to taste the
supreme joys of existence keep silence.
When doctor Murray had gone, the old
man got ready for the night. He was
obliged to retire early whenever possible
He brought warm water to the bedside
and washed the face and hands of his wife,
and tied on her white night-cap. In the
morning he would perform her toilet again,
and do her hair for her And he took
pride in doing it, as he said, 'as stylishly
as hairdresser. Then he arranged ON
the chair, 80 as to be within reach, candle
in tin candle-stick, glass of water and
a biscuit. After that he fetched large
prayer-book and the Bible, and read the
Psalms, and the second lesson for the even
ing, and afterwards prayed. He thanked
God for the many mercies vouchsafed to
them that day, for food and power to work,
and for home He remembered those
without those blessings, and begged that
they might receive them. He commended
himself and wife to God keeping through
out the night.
Then his day was over In the night
Ms. Temple was thirsty. She did not
disturb her husband; but he awoke, lit
the candle, and held the glass of water to
her lips
DIR. Murray kept his promise to call
He got into the habit of looking in on the
old couple pretty frequently. He wrote
and told Norah about them, and one day
she sent Mrs. Temple some flowers, and
the simple act gave such happiness that it
was repeated, and during the winter the
garret was never without a chrysanthemum
or two. The stalks would be out cut and
the water changed till the flowers were
dead; they were never thrown away till
there was not petal left.
For Mrs. Temple it was impossible for
the doctor to have any feeling but SYM
pathy, but for the old man he conceived
positive affection. His unvarying good
spirits, his pluck, his beautiful mind, his
simple intelligence, and the unaffected piety
had an effect on the doctor which resulted
in reverence And the old fellow loved
him. He saw so few people that it was
great pleasure to have some one to talk to
who was as well informed and interesting
as the doctor. But no familiarity ever
lessened his respectful attitude towards the