Las Vegas daily optic. [volume] (Las Vegas, N.M.) 1880-1908, 1897-07-24
MY STORY.


~ I'D l marry for lover Well, II / did
not, / don't know what l did marry
L. for. When we married, my hus-
band was as ''poor as q church
mouse.n We married for love, OF course,
And whom, after a short wedding tour to
distant relatives, We left my fathers home
for tho little cottage homo on my hus-
bands farm, we thought life was to be one
long, sweet honeymoon.
We wore young, and we were looking
through rose colored glasses. 1t seemed to
us as II the birds meyer sang sweeter than
they did In our W apple trees, and the
grass never looked greener than 10 our own
door-yerd. The cottage was small, but
what of that. 1t was large enough for us,
and in our eyes was = real fairy nest. 1t
seemed to us as il lifo were hencsforward
perfect. We had nothing left to desire, ex-
cept, perhaps, On my husbands side,
wealth, in a remote, dream like future.
l remember the day / left my fathers
home. / think l shed u few tears, but
quickly dried them, so my husband would
not see them and think me unhappy. i
" ~ ASaoSE wv u QttCIlp-
ton of that humble cottage home; suffice
to say II was not very iattering In appear
ance. The yard was rough and uneven,
the fence tumbling down, and without a
gate.
But had II all pictured In my mind how
l would soon change the appearance Of
that dirty yard with my beds OF gay-coi-
ored flowers. How ] would train vines
over the little roughly.made porch until 1t
looked like a fiery bower. Our humble
fare should be sweetened by our contented
spirits; our humble home be beauti1ed by
all those little arts which endear lowly
homes to the dweller. And to begin life
anew seemed like the browning bliss on the
last page or a fairy tale.
Is not love blind, blind to all except to
the ones we love2
Did marry for lover Dear reader,
what else but love would have tempted me
to take such q step? Had 1 not left father
aud mother. brothers and sisters, besides a |
good position, to link my life 60 one /
loved? And was / happy? Go ask the
birds as you hear them singing their mer-
ry song in spring and watch them building
their nests together. for scarcely they
could be happier than we.
My husband was very poor. but poverty
had no flavor of bitterness for our easily
satisfied natures. We began in debt, and
debt seemed determined to hold us down,
struggle as we would. Taxes were due
before we even thought OF laying by for
them. Interest and insurance followed
We struggled and worked and toilsi. 1
was not strong, but took my part as brave
y as knew how. How I contrived aud
planned to make both ends meet! 1 patch
I'd and darned n turned and made over
until l did not know what to do next.
Reading matter was very scarce with us
n those days. My mother used to kindly
lend me copies of THE Optic, which were
read and carefully laid away for
'5.erence. By and by, the babies came,
and doctor bills. Many were the
lays of weary suffering and anxious
lights of watching, and then the death
Dgel stole noiseiessly into our home and
arried away our children one by one.
Oh, those tiny green mounds in the
onely cemetery! How many times I have
TODD by them and wept, wondering why
Tod had robbed me of my hearts trea-
ures. Would I have them back again IL
could? No, l think not. God knew best
md doeth all things well. During the
lays that followed, those days OF poverty
nd suffering, / used often to wonder il l
lid we'll 10 marrying just for love, and If
ny husband realized the great sacrifice
lad made. think he did. At least he
las done his part as q husband and father.
are older now, older in years and ex-
,srience. The days of hardship and poverty !
ire past. Children are gathered around {
IS, newspapers and magazines are plenti-
ui; but we will never forget the Joy, peace
nd contentment that was ours In that :
my cottage. I
Have l any regrets? No, I think not. .
think if / were permitted to live my life :
,ver again / would risk the same course.
But in giving advice to yonDg girls, II.
hink l would say, better wait. Love can
ford to, and it would be better for both.
No mystery Is there on this earth, I
Or in the worlds above y
Like that dear, rapturous agony
That mortals here call "love."
MoLLIH THORN.
- Afes Il,