The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1897-06-23

sure l always tried to be good to you,"
he said, in answer to that unspoken re-
proach that seemed to lie behind her
spoken words. I" tried to treat you
WELL"
"The money that came to me just be-
fore / died from Uncle John must have
been help. left it and the farm to
you, Maddy." Her dull eyes seemed to
force him to acknowledge his debt.
"Yes-yes, Sarah. l know that
owe much to you. Without your help
and money l should have had much
harder time getting on my feet. Yet 1
think l should have succeeded in any
case" Mr.. Janeway could not forbear
offering this tribute TO his self-esteem.
"However, l gratefully acknowledge
your aid, Sarah"
"You have another wife, now,
Maddy, and Children" she said, I" but l
was first. 1 believed In you, and l
worked for you, oh, so willingly l
knew that you were different from me.
l knew that you had hopes that stupid
Sarah could never understand. l knew
that / was your companion in your
work, but not in your hopes. 1 knew
that we were growing farther apart
every year that we lived together. I
knew that while l was getting to be
worked out and middle-aged, you were
only coming to your prime. l knew
that it was best that l died when l did
before l came to be drag on you.
Yet, Maddy, before her and your chill
dren, think you ought not to shame
( me, for l was your faithful wife, the
wife of your youth, and l gave you all
l had to give-my money, my love, my
toll"
Before Mr.. Janeway could answer
she was gone, and he sat alone.
The next day, however, he took the
old photograph down town and ordered
for it gorgeous frame. When it was
returned, he hung it in his library,
where it looked strangely alien between
a St. Cecilia and the Arabian Falconer,
bought at the instigation of the archi-
tect
Florry, with child's quickness, no.
ticed the fine gilt frame that surrounded
the ugly, good face. "What have you
done to the lady?" she asked. Aren't
you going to pack her away, as mamma
said?"
emo; the picture is to stay here. Do
YOU ItIutuUCI WIN L bdlu IL Wdbt
Eyes; it was your first wife,"
Mr.. Janeway took her on his knee.
Floriy," he began soberly, "when l
was little boy, was very poor, as
poor as the Calls "a family cele-
brated in the town for i'll luck and pow
erty. 81 went to school when could,
but that was mighty little, for l had to
work most of the time. Sometimes I'd
get most discouraged, but had to work
Just the same. One year l worked for
man named Deering. He had a
daughter, and when she found how
much l wanted to 90 to school, she
lent me some money-money she had
saved by pinching and scraping. After
a while her father died, and she mar
ried me. had nothing, and she owned
a good farm, but she married me. In
six years she died and left everything
to me. She gave me my start She
was good woman, and believed in me
when nobody else did. The other
night papa dreamed that he saw her
aud talked to her, and it made him feel
ashamed that he had seemed to forget
her."
Mr.. Janeway felt that he was max
ing handsome reparation, but he was
man who aimed to do right. 1t was
necessary to his self-esteem.
The child wriggled from his arms
and walked away, with an awed glance
at the picture.
Mr.. Janeway stared at it musingly
care you satisfied now, Sarah?" he
caught himself saying. Pshaw! That
dream holds to me still" he exclaimed
"but, anyhow, I've done her justice
And though the architect declared
that the photograph quite spoiled thu
effect of the library, and begged that il
might be banished to some back room
Mr.. Janeway was firm, and the dull
good face of his first wife kept it's place
between the ST. Cecilia and the Ara
bian Falconer.-Chicago News.