Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1905-04-15
Work.
Hands
By JULIA NEELY FINCH

ION brayely she had stood her
hard and weariful life only The
good God knew, for she told none, moi
even Hint
Day in and day out she had labored
striving to keep the tiny home cheerN
and neat; washing, indefatigably. the
rosy faces about her and the little
moist and sticky palms whose light
est touch brought comfort to her hurt
heart.
Day in and lay out. in and ont about
| the house she went on tireless feet,
cooking, scrubbing, cleaning, straight
ening numberless times each day the
| disorder children, the best of them
make; and hers were good children;
she knew that.
And the little house showed her bralt
effort: clear and shining each tiny
pane, spotless the bare floors: pure
and white the poor cloth that bespread
the tottering table. and well-cooked
and deCently served the poor food "a
which she and her little ones must SIT
down But somehow, to-day her ooz-
irS courage had seemed all at once
gone; her heroic heart grew sick and
quailed within her. Being alone, for
wonder, she sank down into the hard
straight-backed chair beside the
kitchen table, and let herself cry, cry
cry, TO ner souls easing and her
hearts relief.
Sobbing as do little children, she
lay prone upon the kitchen table, ner
sleeve poor, mended calico sleeve)
wet with the flowing tears.
Her life so hard, so monotonous, so
lacking in lavish comforts, passed be-
fore her; her pride and longing ambl-
ton for her dearly beloved little ones,
Judith's face, proud, inperious even IN
its babyish outlines, flashed before
her; she saw the scarlet scorn Of the
velvet lips, the soft shadow of the
long lashes on the rounded cheek, the
proud set of the childish head the
walk, as buoyant as her own used 10
be. Used, Abused!
Herbert, the dreamer, the incipicnt
poet, embryo musician; the little lad
who so idoli2ed his mother. Marion,
dear, dimpled darling, whose head as
it lay upon her breast so comforjel
and consoled her sick heart her dear,
dear children
"The more love them the more
suffer. They are so beautiful, 50
bright. and can barely keep them
alive. labor as | may. God be mercl-
ful to met
And what had brought this ava
lanche upon her that had swept her
from her feet, had overwhelmed and
robbed her of every atom of corr
age?
Will you think less of her when
tell you?
The sight Of her poor, SCARED and
ruined hands. Just that and nothing
more. How pcarl-fair they once We're;
how dainty, how fine of finger, rose
pink of palm how jewel-lke of cres-
cent nail, when first she laid them in
Johns great, strong grasp and heard
his whisper; My wife; my dear, dear
wiie"
Her heart swelled almost to burst
Ing.
John! John! If you but knew!
If it were given the dead to see, 20
feel-ah, John, | am so tired. You've
been gone so long! am so tired It
is 50 hopeless STRUGGLED"
Weakly she added, and scorned her
self for the speech.
And my hands hurt me So they
hurt me SO! If you could just hold
them once, kind. kind hands! | loved
to let both mine lie in one of yours"
Lifting her poor swollen face, she
gazed at those bands outstretched be-
fore her on the pine table, How dark
and dingy the nails, and at the cor
ners the flesh was split and black
ened by rough usage the knuckles
swollen, distorted the palms excori-
ated ugly; the outer skin lying in
great huddlng wrinkles.
MY poor hands," She set her
lips upon the one uppermost, and
poored and pitied it as mothers do the
hurt places little children bring to
them for comforting
Sitting there in the silent house she
recalled the first time she had sat up
after Horberts birth.
She remembered, with shuddering
sighs, just the look of her luxurious
room-is softly tinted walls, the beau-
tiful pictures John had hung there
that her dreaming eyes might drink
in their loyeliness and bring to her babe
unborn sense of beauty. a perception
Of it, She saw herself, young, pa
theticaly lovely beneath the shadow
Of her hard travail clothed in softly
trailing garments, her rich and
abundant hair hanging in beautiful
plaits far below her waist, and me-
chanically she put up her hand to
smooth back a stray tendril aid
smiled bitterly as the broken flesh
caught and pulled to pain the poor
gray tresS that had fallen,