Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1896-11-19

other with their measure of content.
Each found the widow more and more
dependent upon her stalwart helper.
She chung to him as she might have
| chung to the son of whom she mad been
deprived in the springtime OF her
WlfehoOd. As her tOttering footsteps
were supported down the aisle OF the
village church, on a Sunday, few of
the congregation knew that the hand
some young man who watched over
her so aSsiduOuSly was not, in fact. her
own son. Those who were cognizant
| OF the relationship between the two
shook their heads knowingly, saying
to themselves and TO each other:
Lucky boy, that; stepped right into
the farm, just as the old lady was
about to leave it. He knows the side
OF his bread that has the butter on it .
But it is doubtful if Jem had ever
given mat a thought. So happy and
| content was he that the merely ma
terial conditions of his life had never
troubled his consciousness. Only one
thing troubled his thoughts of late.
He was deeply stirred by the soft
brown eyes Of pretty Susie Jones. a
chorister in the church; Susie, who
lived as he had done, with friends for
board and keep another of New Eng
lands orphans.
He never mentioned this daring
speculation, not even to the widow, but
her eyes, though growing dim, were
acute enough to penetrate his honest
soul. His whole life lay conferred in
the farm, which had become as essen
tial to it almost as the air he breatned.
But now there must be young life
there. A pair of brown eyes persisted
in dancing before his face, in wood
pile, in field, in garden.
And so it came to pass that there
was wedding next Thanksgiving in
the little cottage, now pretty with
vines and CHEEKY within. Susie was
glad OF so pleasant a place for the
troth which she was to plight with
Jem, while he, lucky fellow though he
was, could not take time to travel to
Susie's home, far away over the rough,
billy roads. "A wife's d good thing,
he solilOquized TO the widow the even
ing before his marriage, but there's
COWS to be looked after and hens to be
fed-more'n you could tend to alone.
That's so, Jem,'' said the widow,
smiling brightly, and thanks to you
for it all"
Under branches OF autumn leaves
from the last redding trees, Jem and
Susie promised all things of the simple
marriage service. Then came the
country wedding supper.
When the last guest had gone, driven
away in the farm wagons that had
clustered around the door all after
noon, the widow turned to Jem and
Susie, sitting bashfully in the freight.
you're my children, now, both Of
YOU" she said. Call me mother just
once, Jem and Susie"
"Mother" cried Jem, taking the
feeble hands together and kissing them
tenderly, my darling mother, dearest
friend l ever had"
She returned his loving glance,
lingeringly, gratefully, as they led her
to the door of her room.
Next morning Jem knocked again at
the Widow Wilson's door just as he
had done On that lonely Thanksgiving
day four years ago. This time not
even a feeble voice answered his re-
peated calls.
Three days later, as the neighbors
struggled back from the little GENE
terry on the hill, Squire Lothrop drew
Jem apart.
Il s'pOse you know the widder'a left
the farm to you? No? Sho! It's
mighty strange she didn't tell you.
She made her will moren year ago
and you're her only heir. She seemed
to set a lot by you, the wilder did, ana
docking around approvingly over the
snow-covered fieIds) l d'no's l blame
her. The last four years hev been the
peacefulest of her life, and she's left
ner peace with you, for sure!'-Pitts-
burg Post.