The San Francisco call., 1897-05-16

life and thoughts to see how and why she
lived
Still she would not have resented it ii l
had-she looked too hapless.
mo, ma a'am," she answered, "they live
at the barracks. Only their wives live
here"
And your husband?"
HE is in the infantry. He comes home
very little. suppose he is very busy and
can't get away much and ought not to
complain, but it gets kind OF lonely. 1
don't see him any more than 1 did before
we were married"
You have no children ?"
No" She looked wIstfnlly at me. ut
wouldn't be so bad if had. I'd have
something to work for and look forward
to-caring for them, you know-but now."
But you may not be here always"
NO" she said. II am trying to save
the money get from the washing in case
do not have to stay always.
But that is foolish" she went on.
when 1 married 1 left my home, and
now it is broken up. Still, l cannot help
looking back"
When the wife of Lot. while journeying
away from her naive home, turned and
ooked with longing eyes back to the
place where all that she had loved lay in
ruins, she became for her pains pillar of
salt. And fancy that when men looked
at her solid visage they found no smile
thereon, no look of cupidity, but only a
hopeless endurance.
And this woman was doing what that
other wife had done-looking backward; ;
and the change was going on in her
naturally. 1t needs no miracle to change
woman when once she loses hope.
How strange it is that the misery of
other lives transfers hint of the same
to ones own self. One feels like sitting
with them and saying, "All is illusion.
Let US be miserable. Tomorrow will
never come.''
And so it was shock of surprise when
1 met the next face. There was no hope
less endurance pictured there-nothing of
disappoint or hope deferred showed
about her. She was large to spare, and
she stood, child clinging to either side,
squarely on her two feet as firmly as
though those feet were in grooves that
were maze for them. And the door
seemed the right size and the room beyond
was hers.
''Come right through" she said. 'I'm
busy-always busy, to tell the truth. Ny
husband amt home, so you sit down
in the kitchen while l go on with my
washing"
And while she leaned over the board she
talked and told me of her life. 1t was not
an empty one-it was filled with her chill.
dren and her husband.
II miss him, OF course" she said, s'but
we're getting start. If he was around
wouldn't work much and if was around
I'd bother him. So we just go on and
compare notes when we meet. | take a
vacation and go up once in while and
watch him drill, and he comes home and
rests and praises my work. The m usic
rests me, and ii ever get disconten ted
the sight OF all the men in line inspires
me.
Everybody is not contented like me? I
know, of course. Sometimes L m sorry for
them. Some of the boys neglect their
wives, and drink and carouse when they
might be at home. 1t isn't that all of
them don't like the life, but there's one
little woman lives here that has no chill
dren. Lots of times her husband don't
come home for days, and then she wan
ders up and down the beach in the even
ing and watches the water, when it's cold
enough to freeze you-and after she's
been washing all day."
''And her"
''Oh, he is in the guardhouse about
hall the time. It's too bad"
Small wonder that she looked back
always with no changes in her lace.