Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1895-02-01

.s "~"sASuucateuS taught to believe
that ignorance Is amusing, and helpless.
ness attractive; no wonder the other sex
shrinks from taking upon itself not a
help but a burden-charming enoueh he
fore marriage. but after? The YER man
who ut first exulted in his beautiful orna.
mental wife. will, by and by, be the first
to turn round and scorn her.
No man could ever scorn Silence Jar
dine. In spite of her sacred feebleness.
she resumed at once the business of life
harder than anybody knows who has not
tried the experiment of making ~six-pence
do the work of a shilling. And she did II
cheerfully, and without any outward sign.
Brain never idle; feet never still, or, if
compelled to stiffness, hands always busy
Mt something or another; full of endless
care and thought for others, most of all
for Roderick, who never thought of HIM
self or his own pleasures ut all; even in
her room, or on her sofa, Mrs. Jardine
managed to be the very soul of the house,
planning everything, arranging every
thing, and, it often seemed, doing every
thing.
1t was a solitary life she led, for her
husband took to going down to the mill
every day, and all day long; it amused"
him., he said, and indeed he always came
home looking so busy md cheerful that
she was glad of the change for him. But
it was a life of perfect ease. Aud then, it
was full of day-drcams.
care you not dull sometimes?" said
Roderick n day, when he came in n lit
tie earlier han usual. and found her sit
ting sewing by the fading October light,
but with such n placid smile on her lips,
such bliss in her eyes.
"Dull? How could I be? I was only
thinking"
II have been thinkink, too; only I would
not tell you till I was quite sure of my.
self" said he, as he sat down beside her.
"Silence, I do really believe your husband
is not such n goose us he seems. Black
says so; and Black, though an oddity, is
by no means n bad fellow"
Silence smiled. She had oftcntimes bat-
tied against her husbands dislike to the
honest man. whose roughness rubbed
him up the wrong way" as he said, ever
worse than Mrs. Maclagan. Now under
the rough rind he had discovered the
pleasant kernel. Things had evidently
righted themselves.
"He objected strongly to me at first be-
cause I was a gentleman, which was us
great a dclusion in his way as my setting
him down a boor because he wore q rough
coat, and had manner to match. Now,
we both understand one another better.
I have been working with him Mt the mill
for fourteen days, and what do you think
is the result?"
He spoke with n buoyancy of tone and
manner such us Silence had not seen in
him for weeks.
Something is going to ~happen-that is,
If my wife does not object, which, being
q very sensible woman, I don't think she
will. I am actually going to earn my
daily bread"
She turned round-her lips quivering.
Nov, don't begin to cry about it, Mrs.
Jardine, my dear; it isn't breaking stones
upon the road, or anything very dread
full: and the bread I shall earn will not be
too l~uxurious-only two pounds n week
n hundred pounds n year, which is my
precise value just Mt present. Flattering?
but it is something. 1 am rather proud
of my position as bread-winner-I, that
never earned a half-penny in all my
days."
He spoke a little fast, and with a
flushed cheek. She put her hand upon his
and held it, with a soft, firm hold.
"Tell me all."
"Thcre is not much to tell. You know
INV AOAA \ ways was VI IulculISTy=
indeed, once I begged to be made an en-
gineer, but my-they at home Che never
named his mother now thought the pro-
fession was not 'gcntcel' enough, and it
is too late now, Black says. But he also
says, us a mill-owner l might find my
turn for mechanics extremely useful. I
could watch, examine, perhaps even in
vent; indeed, during these two weeks 1
have made a suggestion or two which he
is pleased to consider admirable MIR.
Jardine,' he said to me this morning, if
you were but n capitalist and could start
a mill, or n w%orkingman, who required to
earn our bread rs overseer or foreman
you'd do And I startled him by telling
him I was q workingman, and I did re-
quire to earn my bread; and if he thought
l deserved foreman's wages, I would take
them gratefully, and Why Silence, my
darling! Not crying?"
But she was, though she dried her tears
ut once. "Oh, Roderick! and this is done
for mel"
"For you and-it," he whispered, and
then there was q long pause of speeches.
peace.
II don't wish to make myself out a
martyr, not the least in the world,' said
Roderick ut last. 81 like my work. like
all work, indeed, but this especially. And
Black is by no means a bad fellow to
work with when you only know him.
There is that great difference in our ages
which prevents jarring-a and then, he has
such a vcneration for the family"
Eyes, that is it. But there, too, lies the
difficulty. To be foreman ut a cotton
mill. You, a gentleman and a Jardine!
Have you considcred?"
ut is because l am a gentleman md n
Jardine that I do not need to consider"
he answered. with that slight mir of
hauteur which, whether it was right or
wrong, his wife loved, could not help low
ing, for it was a bit of himself. "No,
dear; in my worst, that is, my idlcst days,
1 never was SO foolish as to think there
was any disgrace in work, any dignity in
idleness; and now when l have to earn
my bread by the sweat of my brow, like
old Adam and all the rest, down to poor
Grandfather Paterson, I'll do it, and not
be ashamed of it, either"
"Nor 1. Nothing that my husband did
could make me ashamed of him. exccpt