The Weekly Journal. — 1903-07-10 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

BEITER (10D THAN THAT.  "No," Tungi said. "there is a better God than that. Our myopic, do not know about him, and that is why ) am not allowed to talk with you. lam married, and my hnshand lives in • distant city. If I speak to you, they believe he will die. But in the school where I go, many do not believe these things." "flow can you go to sehool, My sister-inlaw says that only had women learn to read," Sits answered.  " So my mother ussid to think," said Tune; "hut my husband is in school, and he has sent word that 1 shal! go also until he calls for me to come to his home. Then he will have a wife who can understand when he talks about his  So the hright-eyed Brahmin wife chatted away, as gay as a bird. The fount of knowledge was opened to her. the beaming eye, the elastic figure. and the individuality of her Western misters were hemming hers. _ _ . .  None of these things seetr.ed for Site. After I 'rump* went to who'll, the little shaven-headed child, subsisting on one meal a day, went about and and lonely for another weary nine months. ' When she again saw the face of her little friend, her condition had grown worse. Her neck and arms were full of seers where bits of flesh had been pinched out in the vindictive 1 rage of her relatives, who believed the child grotty of her husband's death. Brutality, griming with uso, had made them callous to the anfferings of the little being in their power. No one who eared knew of the pangs of hunger, the unkind and violent words and the threats of future punishment. Once or twice she had looked down into the cool depths of the well and wondered how quickly she could Only the terror of punishment after death kept this baby-widow from suicide. She had heard many things lately, and she knew of a young and lovely wife near by who had become • widow, lout her little son, and, unable to endure the cruelties and her wounded pride, had stilled them all beneath the quiet waters of the well. Another widow, too, Site had grown to know---en old woman, bent and wrinkled, neglected, care-worn and toiling, who wan • terror to Site because of what she foreshadowed to the child. . _  One day, as Sita wan weeping by the gat.. I way of Tungi'm home, the little child-wife told the child-widow of a sate refuge for pinch as sire, whore unitSer ignorance nor poverty eowld exelo,:e her—a home under the loving care of one wile knew the widowa curse. after many' difficult;ea. Site found this shelter. Here she forgot her widowhood and found her childhood and girlhood. Here, in the beautiful or at lemons, helping wit;a. Bauch:eel, or IC;b2. =gaTios of the the arm ;Lc stri: puma imsgsy many sweet and and el yearave=4” Site loud the greatest joy io and better tbon hums bee eon use he. Later, when a beautiful you wousdlood had (owned her, she woe soagbt by so unrest, eniZraor child-widow, =brie from the beads of crud wartesa false religion. In Hinduism than. is me hope tor the necureed widow.  In one of his letter.; to his sarestimmit a posse Iforkshkensan "I wadi, iiry deem& that you walla not write me sash kiog letters. If yaw were to bring an action for bees& of promise cgainst me the lawyers would copy the corresoondame between us. and charge 4d. far asap lobo of Zt was& The shorter the lefts, dm '5 ern Wm the leagees."  armii