The Bienville Democrat. [volume] (Arcadia, Bienville Parish, La.) 1912-1980, 1921-02-24
We'll. ANN" be urged.
She rose suddenly from her desk.

"Ill meution the price, of course?"
she said.
"Of course" he assented.
Finally she whirled the sheet OF
paper from her typewriter. and read:
Henry Bradford announces that he
will donate to the new church. short.
ly to be erected on Center street, a
large stainedglass window. as a mem.
orial to his beloved wife, Mary Under
hill Bradford, recently deceased. The
window is to be the work of Chicago
firm The chief feature OF the pro.
posed design is a huge figure. WON
an. seated on dais. on her face the
smiling realization Of the peace of soul
that is to be found only in a house
Of worship. 1t is reported that the
window will cost not less than twelve
hundred dollars"
Mr.. Bradford stood up. a pleased
smile on his face. :
We'll that's about right. Ann" he
said. I'm very much obliged to you
III be going along now"
"Sit down, Henry" said Miss Per.
kins, suddenly, firmly.
He stared at her, amazed.
sit down little longer. That will
do Tor a news item, but there's some.
thing else want to write, Something
for the editorial column. Sit down
| and wait, Henry" Her tone was com.
manding, forceful.
He obeyed, against his own better
Judgment.
| Miss Parkins drew close to her type.
writer, and over it stared at Henry
Bradford He stirred restlessly be.
meath her stare. He did not know
that she was looking through him
beyOnd-into the dead past. For ten
minutes she sat like this, and then
the noise of her quick fingers on the
keys began
Fifteen minutes passed. Henry
Bradford got up and nervously paced
the floor. He wandered through the
Eagles small composing room. the
odor of ink in his nostrils The office
cat leaped out into the circle Of light.
but when he stopped to pat it, it
scurried away.
Its getting late. Ann he com.
planned. at last.
You wait, Henry" she replied in
the voice of one who must not be dis.
turbed.
Twenty minutes later. she rose
from the machine and turned toward
her desk. Her firm gaze caught Hen.
ry Bradford's unsteady one, and held
it fascinated.
"A little editorial, Henry" she an.
nounced, Il think shall call It "A
Stained Glass Window | should like
to read it to you, II you don't mind"
Yves" he stammered. This thing
was getting on his nerves He glanced
timidly out at Main street. the band.
concert was long since over, the pave
ments were almost deserted now. He
dropped into a chair, and fixed his
eyes on q calendar on the wall. Go
on, Ann" he said.
Miss Parkins smiled her twisted lit.
tie smile, and began:
"Over thirty years ago, the writer
Of this editorial had a friend. a happy
girl whose heart beat fast and whose
eyes shone bright with the very Joy
Of living. For live she did-every mo-
ment Of every day to the full-and
she looked forward to the future with
| cd6oI eApeCtduCy.
And then-she married the man
she loved. q man she thought fine and
noble, to be his companion and his
partner. Her face alight with pride
and happiness, she followed him of to
the home ha had waiting for her-a
great farmhouse back in the hills.
And there suddenly. tragically, she
learned that she was to be not his
partner, but his unpaid servant. He
worked her to the last ounce Of her
strength; he drove her as effectually
as II he had stood over her with q
whip.
Few who have ever lived on a
farm realize the drab, terrible, monot.
ony Of labor that many women on
farms endure. Some die; some 90
mad. This little bride Of whom we
write, did neither. She became a
machine. She went to bed at eight
o'clock each night, weary of body and
soul. She rose at four each morning
still weary. She cooked, she swept,
she baked, she MIXED. and churned.
She never entered her parlor except
to clean It, All the pretty little things
Of life for which she longed were dc.
MED her. All the companionship Of
books and friends that had formerly
been hers was shut of from her now.
She was married!
"'Woman's place Is in the home
The tragic meaning Of that sentiment
to her! In the home, not as wife and
companion. but as prisoner. with
the curtains down, the doors barred,
and all the joyousness Of life pass.
ing by on the other side! And all
this that her husband might pile dol:
lar on dollar that. IN greed and selfish.
ness, he might grow rich!
Those who bid known and loved
her saw the light driven from her
eyes and the spirit from her soul. To-
ward the close Of her life the family
moved from the farm into great city
house that her savings had paid for.
| She might have broken her hnnda