The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1901-05-23

if he chose to neglect his business; and
if the farmer lay late abed after market
days, the laborers took advantage and
came later.
So, many of the little things that
spoil prosperity were left undone, or
done too late, and the woman who
strove so desperately to stem the tide of
indifference, and to bind up all the
things that were loose, often felt tempt
ed to strive no longer, but just drift
with the stream. 1t was for the child S
sake that she still kept struggling On
She was pretty child, fair-haired, like
her mother, and already the quaintest
and most Industrious of housewives,
for Mile set her child the example of
being always at work.
Ina had her own little garden, about
three feet by two, with an infant goose
berry bush in the centre, and the pleas
ATTEST hours in Miles carewOrn exist
ence were spent with the little daugh-
ter in the garden tending the flowers.
But in farm no housewifery indus
try can make up for the masters want
of energy, and although Mile did her
best with the dairy and the poultry,
things vent from bad to worse, and be-
cause of this West drank harder than
ever
And still his wife tried patiently to
keep up all the old order and exquisite
neatness, only her face grew sharper
and more pinched and her tongue more
bitter.
But the mills of God were waiting for
James West, and it was fated that he
should save his soul alive. The we'll of
drinking water that should have been
cleaned out was left untouched, and
little Ina fell victim to diphtheria.
The mother fought desperately for her
child's life-fought as one to whom the
passing of the innocent spirit might
mean despair. But the winds of God
were stronger than her anguish of ter
ror and love, although she Well-nigh
defed Heaven itself, clasping the little
body to her, that no power might wrest
it from her. But close, and impassion-
ed as was the clasp of her arms, death
came and went, leaving them empty
Then she sOrrowed, as one quite with
out hope.
The doctor, an observant man. was
struck with her strange demeanor,
which had no resignation in it.
ut is not all grief and heartbreak,"
he told some sympathizing neighbor;
Il m afraid there is more wrong than
we can see at present"
But to the deeply sorrowing and re-
morSeful father came slowly a broken
and contrite heart. He knew himself
partly responsible for his child's death,
but the knowledge was wisely tempered
to him, SO that he was softened into
penitence and not hardened into des-
pair.
Once more he went soberly and in
dustriously about his work, and the
warm tears would rain down his face as
he passed Inas little garden, not so big
as the small grave. He took from it
tiny geranium plant that was wither-
ing and dying in the frost. He potted
it and put it in a warm and sunny
window, and tears dropped upon the
withered leaves as he tended and
cherished the feeble, dying plant.
Many times, unseen OF all, he would
ask divine forgiveness for the sin which
had brought so heavy punishment,
and divine grace permitted him an
entrance into the right way
1t was Henry Park who noticed, first
of all, that West drank nothing at the
market dinners, and remembering the
poor, stricken wife at home, he was
honestly glad that West had turned
over new leaf.
Stick to it man." he cried, heartily,
as they were driving together; "being
only widow man [ like my drop of
comfort, but for married men tbs a diff
ferent matter, and some can't pull up
as easy as others; reckon the wife's
turr'ble thankful, baint she?"
West shook his head sadly.
s'She hardly takes notice of much yet;
it's almost as though her spirit had
gone along of the child. There's hard
ly sense in her at times"
''The poor SOULS about wored out,
West. You must be tender to her, for
she's been wife in ten thousand
There was keen reproach in his tone,
and West suffered it humbly enough.
:" know it Palk; and for all I've
made her suffer, love her dearly, God
knows | do
'And now's the time to prove it.
Unless l am much mistaken, you'll
have all to do for bit AS 1 said, she
is pretty nigh wored OUT
anu do w CoG u1ONO lllbO Ills wv III ydIu,
the neglected look of the house struck
him painfully The steps were unwash-
ed, the parlor blinds not drawn up, and
the window plants dropping for want of
water-save the one which he had wa
tered with his tears, but that was dying
fast.
1t was all so unlike Mile that it
seemed as though she were dead, too.
Where could she be that she did not
come out and receive him? He was so
accustomed to see her in the doorway,
spotless and neat, with an anxious
smile of welcome for him, that he
could not understand her failing to.
be there
How desolate everything looked as he
entered, and how the ceasing of endless
housewifery care made all the shabbi-
ness so startlingly apparent
The little sitting-room was cherries
and cold as he entered, and the fire,
which was always part of her welcome
for him, was on this occasion nearly
out. In the half dark he thought the
room was empty, but in turning to go
out he saw a woman's figure huddled
up in an armchair 1t was his wife
his wife, with her fair hair all disorder
ed and uncared for, and her face foolish
and wild. She had a glass in her hand,
and there was the smell of spirits in
the room. AS he faced her, horror
stricken, she looked at him vacuOusly
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