Year: 1877

only four places and you and John will
want the front seat, for he will drive, and
we will take the other two. Mother intends
going believe and what will we do with
her l would like to know? Why can't old
people stay at home and let the young folks
have good time once in while any how?
And she is always so terribly anxious for
fear we will take cold, and you never can
have nice time if somebody is always CIV
ing you advice. Now father never wants to
go, never bothers a bit just lets you
have your own way and says nothing. But
that does not get us out of the dilemma
about the carriage. 1 guess some of US
could go in the wagon, but my heart was set
on John and Frank and you and going to-
gether. 1t is a shame to spoil that plan"
Maybe mother will not go, Kate" ''Yes
she will, for 1 heard her talking about it
yesterday, and when she was arranging for
our lunch she counted five, and of course
that includes herself 1t will be dull
old picnic if she goes" 81 would not
care so much if it was mixed crowd or a
Sunday school affair or if we went on the
train, where we could have a chance to talk;





spoil the fun / know the boys will be mad
if she goes, but vow hate to say anything
to her. She worked all day yesterday while
we were out seeing the girls. She has fixed
the incest cakes and pies you ever saw, and
/ stole bite OF sandwich just now as l
came through the dining ROOM" ''She
might stay at home with father just as well
as not, and have half a mind to hint it to
her, too; she is always ready to do anything
to please him. She told me we need not
worry about the arrangements, that she had
everything fixed, and here she is more
bother than everything else" The girls
ehatted on after awhile drifting away from
the vexatious subject of ''what to do with
mother" and busy with thoughts of the to-
morrow's picnic, forgot all else. They were
sitting in their own room, but through the
open transom every word had hoated to the
mother, who was at work just across the
narrow hall She had a sweet, patient face,
though the cares and sorrows of motherhood
had made many fSrrows, and the
long vigils when she had watch
ed and nursed her sick children
had diIamed her once bright eyes. Her hair
was turning gray, and at each temple where
so often the tender flesh quivered with pain,
the soft locks were thicxly silvered She
loved her children tenderly, perhaps too
fondly, for she had been very indulgent, and
kisses oftener than reproving words had
fallen from her lips She had given the best
of her life for thezn, for since the day baby
Kate was laid in her arms she had worked
and prayed and fairly lived for her family.
Three were dead-her two boys and the little
girl whose short life had been so sweet and
promising. The boys had been manly. noble
fellows, but they pined away, and at last
with breaking heart the mother gave them
back to cod. None but those who have lost
a child can feel for bereaved mother can
know the terrible void in the heart when
the little one is buried. None but those can
know her grief when the clods of the grave
fall upon the tiny czsket, and leaving the
idolized child alone, the mother returns to
her home, to the empty cradle, the
Impressed pillow, the scattered
playthings the days and hours
of agony. of longing and loss.
Mrs. Chase had leaned apon her husband in
the bitter hours of agony, but after awhile
he was too busy to be with her much, and
she was forced to suffer slone. Those days
had left their impress upon her; she no
longer was kght-hearted and merry but
gentle and quiet, not loving the liyiog less,
but rather the more for her sffiiction. She
clung to Kate and Sue, never allowing them
to bear burdeE that could be lifted to her
own shoulders; always anxious for their
happiness, sacrIheIng contIn0aIly her own
comfort and welfare for them, asking only
kiss or a caress as a reward Her husband
was always in a hurry. always occupied with
business cares with never q moments leis-
ube for recreation with her, and she had
worked on, never com planning even If weary,
trying to do as much, and labor as many
hours as he. Mr.. Chase did not reckon as
pleasure or recreation the many business
trips he took over the country, although he
made it convenient to take them at conven-
lent seasons for both, and always came home
looking fresh and vigorous after one, but to
his wife he described them as "bores'' and she
pitied him for the fatigue and trouble he
must undergo, and recited his virtues all the
more lovingly to their daughters. Some
times she felt depressed saddened; some
times the sight of dainty little dress or
half worn slipper put where only her eye
would ever find l., Tculd recall he lost