The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1897-01-16

SICK woman; we both know that as
wells he doesP
81 see her this mornin' 'arly just
lookin' through the door, an she's all
gone to a shadow O. what she was"
"It's the wust run O. fever that's
ben about here for years. I've helped
take care of sights O sick folks, an l
know. IT'S narrow chance for pore
Hannah, dear, willin', pleasant Great
urel"
"My times past for watchin' with
the SICK" said the other woman,
plaintively. 1.-THE wust sorrow my
years has brought is bein' useless now
where I once could do"
Nobody amon'st us has done her
part more generous" said the young
er woman. 81 never see such pict
ure O. sorrow as Dan is. Seems if he
couldn't hardly hold in from crying
the day through. Him an Hannah's
set the world by each other, an they
had to work an wait a long spell
afore twas so Dan could feel at ease
to marry. l always mistrusted Ann
Parish was more difficult with her
own folks than none of us ever sup
posed. don't believe but what she's
made it harder for Hannah than she
likes to think of now. She's dread
full cornery person-the Kenways al
ways was-and yet pretty appear
ing, an smart as whips. l never
liked the look in Ann Parish's eye,
an yet can't say she ever give me
misbeholden word. Well, pore Han
nah's life is in the Lords handsl"
And SO the friends parted.
The doctors gig went up the lane
day after day in the early morning
and at nightfall. Dan and his moth
er looked years older, and Hannah,
burning with fever, talked to them
with piteous uncon sciousness of their
presence. She had not known even
Dan for week. She begged over
and over that somebody would tell
her what she had done to make Moth
er Parish hate her.
81 like Mother Parish; l wish l
could make her like me-" she said
once, in grieved, childish tone, look
ing up with her dull eyes at the anx-
ious woman herself. There was no.
body else in the room.
"Poor darlin'! l love you now if
never did before. Oh, do get well,
Hannah! I've always liked you bet
ter than / could let on" besought
Ann Parish with an outburst of tears.
But Hannah did not understand.
"Mother Parish don't like me, Dan,"
she said, sadly.
The house work was doubled, and
the farm work could not be neglected
even while the farms young mistress
seemed lingering on the threshold of
death's-door. Dams mother was over
worked; she had not time to fret,
scarcely to mourn. Alb, how she
missed her daughters quick step and
willingness, and her interest in all
the home affairs! Hannah used to
sing a good deal about her work in
the days when she was first at the
farm. Little by little the old feeling
faded out; all the mothers hope and
prayer was for the love of her two
children. 1t seemed to her that no.
thing could ever fret her or make her
surly any more if Dams wife could
only get we'll.
V.
In one of the lovely days of the In
dian-summer the two neighbors, after
their old custom, waited for each
other, and walked home together
from church.
"Well," said the elder, 81 must say
it made me happy to see Parish's
folks out to meetin'. Hannah looked
feeble, but she's pickin' up fast; she'll
be smart before winter, and that's a
blessin'."
81 see Dams mother stealth glances
at her in meetin' times, 'fectionate as
could be; there want none of her
tears today, same's the Sunday after
they was married. Hannah looked
sweet, didn't she, with them little
curly rings CHAIR about her fore
head? Well, sometimes folks enjoys
better health after a fever"
ats been the greatest blessin' that
ever Ann Parish had, to come SO nigh
losin' her. She feels it, too; she
knows it has broke down her own
foolishness. l tell ys there amt
gratefuler creatur' in town than
she is. And she mothers her now.
an Dan too, as she never did be-
FORE"
Just then the friends heard wag-
on behind them, and stepped back
among the late asters on the road