Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-08-03

ton of treating me as the mother of Theresa
Il treated by her daughter"
Inevitably it got about this tyranny of
daughter over parent, and the situation became
pretty well unbearable all the way around. Elk
cept, strangely, the mother Of Theresa, even
while her daughter wilted and agonized over
what was happening seemed fascinated by the
change. There was something actually sad
distic about the way she barred herself for the
blows of her child, asking questions that she
must have known would bring wrath upon her
head.
Daughter, why do you wear your skirts so
short They're ugly"
For the reason that It pleases me to- and
If you don't like them don't look"
Daughter. where are you going?"
when I want to announce every move
make, I'll post bulletin
Daughter. you look little pale tonight. Are
you tired?"
Mother, if you ask me that again I'll go
mad
1t was checking, it was terrible it was en-
barrassing even to have to hear and it seemed
to the daughter that sometimes she actually
went about that home with little needles and
pins OF irritation popping out all over her.
Every move of her mothers seemed a source
of irritation. To hear her crack nuts; see her
spill q bit of coffee over into her saucer; have
to listen to the rasp In her voice when she
telephoned. were such anathema to her that she
would rush upstairs into her room, slamming
the door, locking it, crying there.
At 81. after years Of this domination which
had reduced her to some one little and gray,
the mother of Theresa died, quietly, one night
in her sleep, and 1t was to lnger with her
daughter forever after that her last words
to her had been:
stop cracking those nuts III go mad. Haven't
you any reg ard for the nerves Of others?"
That memory in itself seemed to the girl
sufficient punishment; the recollection of those
words dancing in fire before her as the still
FORM in its Small-sized bier was borne tilted
from the house. But her actual Scourging lay
in the years to come.
WHY had she treated her 50? The dead,
cowed footsteps Of her parent seemed
everywhere about the house Her voice. almost
with lodging note in it, as II fearful of
buke, fingered on the stiffness Of the halls and
rooms. Here was girl who, after her mothers
death, had everything to reproach herself for.
She had heard people say of others after q
death. well, she has nothing to reproach her
self for"
The daughter of this dead woman had! And
down through the years she went reproaching.
Down through the years she went unforgettirg
and yearning with that most terrible of all
utilities, for the opportunity to live her life
with her mother over again.
Yes. she had much to reproach herself for.
When she was 80, bachelor from neigh
boring town, in love with a certain wistful
quality he saw in her, came wooing her for
marriage.
It is doubtful If his offer, any more than
his personality, would have meant anyth ng,
except that in his plea for his case, he men,
toned apologetically the need for his aged
mother to live with him after marriage.
"Shes old, gets on my nerves good bit,
but there's nothing else to do but have her
with u.s. dear, the few years she has left
There was her chance, and she graspcd 1t,
to baby and indulge and protect, from the pos
sible curtness of her son. mother-in-law.
In the name of mother who. alas, had not
been babied and indulged and protected from
the curtness Of . daughter. she married the
son in order to gain q mother-in-law. And
her husband marvels at the happiness that her
patient sweetness is giving TO an old mothers
sunset days.