Year: 1873

hearted man, gave her all the worship oi
which his soul was capable, and her wish


was his law Her smile sent great waves
| of Joy to his heart and the sunshine rip
| pling over his brown visage. He always
| acqiesced in all she said, and she felt
| sometimes she would go mad; his very


meekness and worshipfulness almost


crazed her. He humored every whim in
| his power; and when her miserable bond
| age drove her almost wild, he would si-
| lently gaze upon her. and his. little.
| bead like eyes grew smaller in his sad
| ness until they looked like little black
specks shining under his shaggy eye


brows. Sometimes, when she saw how


miserable she made him, the shoulder
ing spark of pity shone forth, and her
gentle word would set him all aglow
again with the waves of Joy, They lived
on, and as their children grew up around
them, they learned to fear the frown OF
their mother, and pity and compassion
ate their meek, patient father. Her in
tellect narrowed, and she became SO ad
dicted to scolding and fault-fnding that
it was bright day. indeed, in the Jones
household when mother did not scold :"


And did she never think of the past
Yes, sometimes the dusty little school
room would rise up before her, and she
thought the toll of then, would be holy
rest to her tired heart now. She thought
of the sweet, young voices and the loving,
happy faces that used to cluster around
her desk-and looking up she caught
only Andrews meek, worshipful look,
and the sad. old young faces of her un-
happy children; and in that one moment
would have given worlds, were they hers
to give, could she be free again as when
she last locked the door of that school
room.


Her burden seemed more than she
could endure, and she buried her face in
her hands and sobbed aloud.


why. Mary, daughter, what in the
world are you crying for p


She looked up, half expecting to meet
Andrew Jones gaze, but instead her dear
mothers gentle face was bending over
her, arousing her from the troubled
dream. Andrew had not come, and she
had fallen asleep as she had sat alone in
the parlor that evening, and it was all
dismal, dreary dream.


She entered the school-room next
morning with different thoughts from
those when quitting its threshold last
evening. Every little face looks brighter;
every "Good-mornIng" sounds sweeter,
and what was drudgery to her yesterday,
is pleasant duty today.


Reader, you, perhaps, would be better
pleased with our story were we to bring
some bold cavalier along to WOO with
sweet love-words our gentle Mary Lee
But this we do not find to be so; she
still tolls on. finding new pleasure in her
labor, content with the pure love of
innocent hearts which every day twine
with closer union around their loved
teacher. Instead of narrowing. her mind
and heart are each day expanding with
more noble ideas of existence. 1t would
be CHASING her with more than mortal to
say she never grows lonely or weary, or
longs to go forth from her native hills
into the great. busy, throbbing world;


Something better than she has known"
but when such thoughts come over her,
she instantly checks them. and in ac-
tivity finds an antidote for dependency
She does not lose sight of the fact that
the consciousness of duty performed
we'll and faithfully is the highest happi-
ness earth can give. She looks to a far,
dim future for a reward, when she may
hail with supreme joy the golden sunset
of that last. long night from which she
may awaken to find this life troubled
dream, and heaven the bright reality.


And who dare say, when she becomes a
part of the great hereafter when heaven
opens before her, that she may not find
flowers blooming in perpetual beauty,
the germ of which she sowed among the
earth beds of lifef Who can say that
she may not there be met by immortal
minds, which her labors have helped to
mold and fashion into fair forms of beauty
and loyeliness2