The Forrest City times., 1900-04-13

v 0 gram on for the mill and perhaps resented it. Mrs. Dewey sat perched up beside her hus- band on the high seat of the wagon, drawing her shawl close about her, as the chill Marca wind struck her sensi- ply, as she remarked to her husband, with a protesting shiver. She was plump little woman who had been pret- ty once, when her hair was brown and enrly, her eyes bright and her com plexion fair and peachy, but since she had married Lon Dewey, and gone out to his big grain farm to live, continual hard work had aged her greatly. and the brightness and bloom of her girl hood days were almost crushed out of her.
 Mir. Dewey was good man, for all that he so thoroughly needed waking up, but he had been accustomed to see ing his mother and sisters turn off great quantities of work with their TO- bust health md strength. and it sim ply did not occur to him that his wifo was wearing her life away in a tread mill which was taxing her to the ut most limit of Ter endurance.
 ''Wheat's hringin' a dollar a bush el," remarked MT. Dewey, as he licked his whip suggestively around Mats heels. "I reckon if l can get the crop sold afore she drops. I'll be some hum areds ahead of what I've been ary year before in some time"
 Lon. don't you suppose, if you do, that we could have a new carpet in the parlor2 It seems like if I could have something real handsome to look at. it would tighten the work ever so much"
 @Ain't l handsome enough?" asked NIT. Dewey, with unusual humor.
 Mrs. Dewey laughed. Her husband was not handsome man at his best, and to-day he had taken little time to .slick up," and the March wind had tousled his hair and reddened his nose in addition.
 "IlDc rag carpet was pretty enough when it was cw," she continued, but someways I've got awfully tired of rag carpetin'.'
 You wimmin folks get terribly tired of things anyhow, it seems to me-" re- marked Mir. Dewey, collectively.
 Yes, we do, Lon," replied his wife, sitii: an unusual burst of feeling. Tin sireds to death of looking at the same things, and of wearing the same clothes year in and year out. I get so hungry for pretty things sometimes it seems like I'd go wild"
 MT. Dewey turned and looked at his wife in astonishEient.
 Well, I swan. Martha he said, slowly. Pity you didn't marry rich man that could give you all you xanted."
 '-yo, don; want no rich man." Martha Dewey caught her breath in 8 half sob. "Ycu're plenty rich enough, snly you've got a notion of thinking } don't need nice things like other Eomen have them. Pretty things don't sost so much more than humly ones, 4ither."
 Well, I snum, what's got into you, Martha, all of a suddent?"
 Nothing new, Lon Dewey" replied tis wife in a combatiye tone, its there seetty much all the time, but some times it swells and surges, and sets me going in spite of myself, like the water 5arns the big wheels at the mill"
 They were in the town now. and soung woman was tripping along the sidewalk, clad in a handsome tailor made suit, whose perfect fit and mate ral added grace and beauty to form fnd face no more to be admired than Kartha's in her younger days. Martha Booked at her with longing eyes. If I could be dressed up like that when l ID out, l wouldn't mind the hard work Esween times so," she said.
 The miller came out as the horses frotted up to the docr of the great, 3usy mill. He had been acquainted with Martha years before, and he noted her tired face and shabby attire.
 Martha Hills didn't get much of a snap when she married Lon Dewey" he sfiected inwardly, as he invited her to some into the office and get warm while ter husband sold his wheat.
 Martha forgot her longings in the suriosities of the office. the telephone. dne immense ledgers over which the 1ookkeeper was pouring, the book