The Brattleboro reformer. (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1907-1912, 1907-07-05
THE LITTLE THORN.
A Story with Moral for Young Mar
ried People.

ried People.
Softly whistling merry tune, he
opened the front door and looked
around Where could Else BET Other
wise she was always standing in the
open door awaiting his homecoming
| lie looked at his watch and smiled. 1t
was half an hour earlier than usual.
In the sitting room was her embroid-
cry, and the next to it an open letter
/ in the handwriting of her mother. Me
chemically he picked 1t up and read;
~ can hardly believe, dear Else,
that you have been really married a
whole month. That | often think of
you, YOU know, but | have never con.
fessed to you that / sometimes am a
little worried, because |, after all, know
50 very little about Gustav s character,
and that only from what you have told
me. and that occasionally | am lit
tie afraid that you may not be per.
fectlv happy. DO not misunderstood
me. | do not doubt either you or Gus
tav s ability to make each happy. But
are YOU really and truly happy, my
dear child! Don't you ever feel as
if there were a little thorn which you
would like to remove before it pene-
trates too deeplyl Our happiness is
very sensitive to such little thorns
and if they are allowed to remain
Gustav dropped the letter on the
table in amazement at what he had
read. Thorns in their happiness!
Were they not as happy as it was pos.
sible for two human beings to BET
Oh. these mothers always are so prone
to see ghosts in broad daylight.
He picked up the letter to finish
reading it, but light steps were heard
on the garden patch, and he saw his
wife hurrying toward the house.
"She need not know that l have
been reading her mother letter. he
thought. Undoubtedly she will read
it to me, and then we can talk it over, "
he thought as he put it down on the
table again.
But all day he waited in vain for her
to mention it. She never said a word
about it until the next morning, when
she said: son, forgot to tell you; |
had letter from home. Mother sends
her love to you. There was nothing
else in the letter. They are all well
at home. She asks me to send her some
samples of worsted."
"Was that all2"
eyes; there was nothing else"
There it was, he thought, Where
was now the thornl For that there
was one he no longer doubted, or she
would have mentioned her mother s
foolish worries.
Now he knew. Every day he ex-
amined the letters she gave him to
her mother. How heavy it was And
she had written so much without telling
him a word.
When he came to his office he care
fully opened the letter and read
"You have no idea, dear mother,
how often 1 have thought over your let
ter before knew just what to answer.
will confess everything frankly so
that you may perhaps help me to do
everything to make Gustav happy.
"You ask me if am happy In
deed, | am, mother, and l still believe
| understand what you mean when you
write of the little thorns. l often feel
that piercing pain, but [ am not quite
clear whether it is only my vanity
which is wounded or my heart. If you
will help me find where the thorn is
will do my best to remove it.
"You know that l have never known
Gustav's mother. l am very sorry at |
this, because it would then be easier
for me to talk with him about her. He
very often speaks Of her, and then /
feel as if I shall never be able to do
the things as she does them. Very of
ten I feel as if I have fallen short of
his expectations, and that he is not
quite satisfied, because 1 manage the
affairs differently from the
way his mother does. Whenever he
wants to praise me he always says that
have done this or that just as his
mother would have done it, and he ex-
oects that such praise shall make me
feel happy. l wish it did
"Answer my letter as soon as you
,an, dear mother, and have no fear that
shall not follow your advice. Gustav
loes not even know that l write you.
send you the worsted you asked me
'Or-'
He read no further, but feeling of
adness came over him. Poor, dear
else! She was quite right. He fold
ID the letter together and put it in his
pocket, determined that he himself
would answer all Else s questions.
1t was beautiful summer evening.
Else was sitting on the piazza with her
mbroidery, as he softly closed the gate
ehind him, that she should not hear
i'm come. Then he tiptoed to the large {
ed of roses and broke off one little i
horn, which he pressed in under a fin
email before he walked up to the ,
ouse. =
"Good evening, darlingl" |
"Good evening, dear! You are ear
r today. Now 1 will hurry up din |