Year: 1873

It was Saturday night. I do not know
that eyery woman devotes this remnant
of the week to mending, but Mary
Matthews always did. Crowd her work
each day as she might, there were never
any moments left in which she could sit
down to that basket of holy things and
devote herself to the contents, save on
Saturday night, and then because the
work had to be done, it S0Gs done,
though sometimes the poor little woman
was so tired she scarcely knew how the
task was accomplished. Its completion,
however, she would fully realize, and if
John Matthews, her husband, were sit
ting before. her, she would look up
brightly into mis- face, no matter how
full of WEAKNESS was her soul. When
the basket had been more crowded than
usual, and the weekly work consequent
ly greater, this little woman was wont
to creep over to the silent man, as the
last amendment was laid on the table,
and rest her dizzy head on his great
shoulder, smoothing his hard, coarse
hands, and caressing his shaggy beard
lovingly oftentimes, on such occasions,
she would glance furtively toward his
countenance for a-well-if the truth
must be told think it was the smile
of a loving heart that Mary Matthews
eager ewes strove to discern. You term
this last act foolish, perhaps; for you
think that such a sentiment should long
ago have been outgrown; you declare
that a woman of her burdens and
responsibilities should be above any
such Sc exhibition of weakness" by the
very dignity they confer upon her. /
cannot call such an action foolish, OF
even weak, though can and do won
der that such tenderness as Mary
Matthews manifested toward her hus-
band had not, in the years of the latter s
indifference, become caloused, harden
ed. beyond the power of loving smiles
to soften. Still more do / wonder that
as she realized the barrenness of the
soul upon which she showered hel
caresses, she could continue to expect, o.
even family hope for, any sympatheti'
return from a quarter in which ther'
was such dearth of anything like 1t
All, the love of woman in its greatness
its fidelity, in the much which it can alb
sorb, in the little upon which it some
times thriyes, lis indeed wonderful
is to be cherished, to be admired, to b
reyerenced! Don't ever call it foolish
or term it weak.


John Matthews was not an unkin,
man. At least he did not intend to be
if he ever had any intentions at all. 81
loved C?) his wife, his family, in his way
DuU Ills u0dIO Ndo LIZ 1nOIO ObE'bO1O Z
ministering unto their spiritual need
than his hands of providing for the
temporal .Yants-apparently they wei
of the SAME matenal,e = both failing
the functions for which they were d.
signed. He was. aFpbi tionless J; to mai
age to live, :" somehow or other" We
the extent of his aims, so far as the ge
ting of money was concerned. 1t


needless to say, therefore, that a vel
small portion of this world goods fe
to his share-ay'l very little indeed
but he never seemed troubled q
anxious. And as Jone after anoth


st little responsibility was added to b
family flock, he put forth no extra exc
ton, and felt no added care, apparer
"; he lived up to his motto, and ma
Gqed to exist. He managed, did sa
All, it was his aoife that did that. !.
was her slight frame that bore t


double weight, whenthe half was 81
ficient to crush any ordinary .womal
It was she who contrived, she who ma


everything go twice as far as it "


originally destined it was Ma


Matthews, who planned and plann


until her brain grew giddy with t