Year: 1873




BY HOWARD eLYNDoN.


"If I only Just did know what to do
about himP" Following this remark
came deep, long-drawn sigh. 1t was a
leisurely sigh, too; yet the woman who
gave it was so used to sighing that she
was hardly conscious of having drawn
her breath more heavily than usual.


Beside her, crouched on bit of old rag
carpet spread upon the hearth, with his
head bent so near to the blaze of the
scanty fire of pine knots that you would
have thought his flushed cheeks In dan.
ger of scorching, was boy about twelve
years old. Large and lusty he was for
his age, with thick thatch of bright vel
low hair covering his shapely head and
falling down over forehead of much
promise, just now puckered into the most
determined of boyish scowls as he grap-
pied in manful way with the manifold
intricacies of the BIS and KS set as a copy
at the top of his slate--evidently not by
masters hand. 1t was when the Widow
Warnings eyes rested for moment on this
boy thus occupied-as, after long spell
of making lattice work across scandal
Gus hole in the toe of gray wooden SOCK
she lifted her head to ease the pain in the
back of her neck, coused by long bend
ing over her work-that she gave audi
BILE vent to the thought that was constant
ly uppermost in her mind and followed
it by her habitual sigh, "If l only just
did know what to do with himl" The ball
of gray yarn rolled out of her lap, while
she sat with briefly idle hands, watching
him with tender trouble on her worn
face. In an instant his awkward but cou-
rageous grip of the long, well. l.sharpened
slate pencil, which he held as if he were
afraid of it would slip away, relaxed, and
he was scrambling for the ball which,
presently, with a bright smile, but with
no word, he laid upon his mothers knee.
The trouble passed from her face while
she looked into his, but the tenderness
only deepened until you could not have
said but that it was motherly pride. But
though she patted his head as he again
crouched down beside her, still no word
passed between them. And for one whole,
long winter evening they sat thus by the
glimmering fire of pine-knots-the moth
er with her sewing and the boy with his
slate and well.worn book, and neither
talked to the other.


These two were sitting in a poor little
room in poor little house-the barest
shell of a cabin indeed, planted so close
to the waters edge that the wonder was
that some incoming tide did not wash it
away into the sea. Around it, stretch.
ing away on every side, was the sandy
soil of the bleak coast, swept annually by
such terrible winds that the few shrubs
about it only grew knee high, and the
house itself was probably only saved by
its very lowliness. You had to stoop,
though you might not be tall, to enter the
one outer door leading into the bare room
which served as kitchen, sitting-room,
and by night as bedroom for the boy
he sleeping in an improvised bed on a
settle. A still lower door led into cold
little den in which was hardly sleeping
room for the mother. On chair was a
large pile of neatly.ironed clothing,
which evidently, from It's fineness Of tex
ture and elabOrateness of adorning, did
not belong to the two whose surround
ings l have sketched; and there were SC
many fiat-irons set away upon an upper
shelf, and so many tubs turned bottom
upward in the little shed near the house,
that II required no extraordinary acute
ness, even In an entire stranger, TO say
beforehand what the Widow Warnings vo
cation was. She looked as old as fifty
though in reality she was only about
forty; for hard work necessarily kept uI
ages women even more than settled grief
Her face was worn and wrinkled hel
hair thin and turning gray, her fingers lit
orally worked to the bone; but her eye
were large, bright brown, and beautiful
with quick sensibility, an untamabl'
spirit, which made you forget her fur
rowed forehead, her dim hair, her mea
gerness. Looking only into her eyes sh
seemed ten years younger. They wer'
her only grace, and she had Transmitted
them to her boy. Watching HIM as h.
from time to time looked up into hi
mothers face, you would have ceased t.
think it strange that he never spoke t.
her nor she to him. His eyes spoke TO
him, and he seemed to read his mother
every thought in hers. Thus they sat-
while the wind without walled dolefull,
around the corners of the house, and eve
anon the dull, steady swash of washing
waves was borne upon 1.-THE mother in
tent upon her mending and the boy upol
his slate, until the uncompromising clocl
overhead shrilled out nine strokes, an,
then the widow rose and gently touches
the child, who had not looked up.


Half mile furth er inland, in the hear
of town which had struggled ava,
from the water, and in a very differen
house, sat Isabel Eghert on that sam
night. She was alone, for the friend
whom she was visiting had gone out t
spend the evening, and she had pleade
headache as an excuse for not accompany
ing them. If she had pleaded heart 'ach
she would have been nearer the truth.


A week previous she had left all tn
gayeties of large city to come to thi
quiet little place on the pretext ofneedin
rest and quiet. What she really wante
was to be alone with sorrow which sh
wss too proud to confide to any one
First love-betrothal-d l-disenchantment-
a broken engagement In how fey
words the history Of heart-trouble tina
makes us hate the days and dread tn
nights can be told Tonight, for tn
first time during her visit, she found hel
self quite alone. She loitered awhile 9
the piano, then tried to amuse herself a
the stereoscope, and these resources fai
ing she tried to read, but on turning tn
first page discovered that not word G
any sentence which her eyes during tn
last fifteen minutes had mechanical
taken in, remained in her mind. Sh
closed the book sharply, and, putting


impatiently aside, began to walk tn
hoor. Her thoughts were bitter, for the
were of her disappointed hopes, her mil
placed affections. "Shall | ever believ
in any one againY Shall ever trust an
one again ?" SO ran her thoughts, an
then with sudden revulsiOn of feeling
f"Oh, it is bitter 10 be all alone and az
not used to IL. How long shall / be abl
to bear IL, | wonders And this is Cbrist
mas Eve ~ The last recollection wa
too much for her. She could not calml
"look on that picture and then on this


She threw herself into chair, and, res
ing her head upon the table near where