Year: 1870

BY MISS HANNAH E. LUNT.


A GLOOMY March morning had dawned
on our village, and our neighbors in the
small brown house, near to the corner o
our street, were more blue and dismal than
hedAy. Mr.. James Symonds had scolded
hls wife because his breakfast was five min
ates late, and because one button had come
Oil his working coat. Breakfast was al
ways behindhand; he was always late al
his work, unless he hurried fast enough to
break his neck his buttons were always
starting off for want of stitch, something
that wouldn't take half minute! When
Mr. SymoEds had said this he shut the
door hard, and went miserably down the
street.


Uur neighbor's bad temper seldom lasted
cen rods beyond his home his repentance
often came before he was well started on
his walk; and even while he was Uttering
reproaches he was dimly feeling that he
should be miserable that day-he always
was wretched when there had been fuss
at home. He always had visions of Mary
taken suddenly i'll, and of the house filled
with neighbors trying to help her or of
Johnnie terribly hurt, or of the baby sick
with Group. All such days he trembled





appeared at the top of the open stair
way; and he would catch himself listen
ing TO any strange voice the shop below,
dreading lest messenger had come to
summon him on account of some
fearful calamity. The shop was too
far off for him to go home to
his dinner; he always took that meal
with him in a tin pail; and when he
had gone to his work in pleasant mood,
he and half dozen fellow workmen sat
down together, talking over the news, and
comparing notes of family expenses; or,
when the boys were away, telling
stories of their children's progress
in walking, talking, etc. When, as
it often happened, things went wrong in
the morning, Mr.. Symonds found that he
must do errands at noon; then, after hur-
rying down few mouthtuls, he went out
and walked all the rest of the hour. He
could not bear laughing and talking free
ly with his comrades while his wife was
unhappy. Many time he would gladly
have gone all the way to his house Just to
see that Mary and the children were all
right, only he was ashamed to show her
how troubled and anxious he was; and he
could no more have put into words his sor-
row for i'll temper ESQ he thought) than he
could have changed to real angel, then
and there.


Mary, for her part, would have died
sooner than have helped him on with any
such confession. She always shut her lips
fast together, and went about her work
with the air of a martyr, while her hus-
band was in the house. The forenoon
was always passed in recounting to her.
self the wrongs and injustices Of which
she was the victim; the number of things
which she had to do, cooking, washing,
ironing, sweeping, mending with two
troublesome children always to look after
one Just running about, the other in its
cradle; how could any woman see to but
tons, and get meals to a minute, when her
hands were tied half the time So at
home Mrs. Symonds dwelt on her troubles,
and worked her husbands unkindness into
the dish-washing, the sweeping, the clean
ing up generally, even into the washing
and dressing of the little ones. The sense of
injustice met her in all the familiar objects
in her little kitchen; and when she had
carried Johnnie up stairs, and had set him
in high chair, out of harms way, while
she made the beds, her enemy had gone up
before her, and meeting, tortured her
there. She wondered how it would be if





be sorry; whether he would learn how
much she had had to do and if he would
not feel that he had been all to blame? But
by.and-by, when the housework was done
up, her hair combed and her dress changed,
as the afternoon grew on, she thought less
of herself and her troubles and more of
Johnnie's little speeches-what pain it
gave her to think how little she had no.
them a of t1,a hoh hyr
was beginning to hold things; and she
longed to tell James these small maryels
She knew herselftoo well to presume that
she would do anything of the sort. Had
not her husband been cruel and unjust !?
Was itnot his place to make advances? He
should at least say that he had been wrong.
lust that and she would overlook ALL But
she would like to have one talk with him,
and show him how things really were; she
did think he ought to see that now he only
thought of late breakfasts and missing but
tons, never of her thousand duties and
cares. Perhaps, after all, it would be better
if she or one of the children should die
then these miserable troubles would come
to an end she shuddered as she said this
about the children, and didn't mean it at all
Mary, too, had feally her fears about some.
thing dreadful happening to James or the
little ones, but she kept it fartheraway, and
pretended that she was courageous.


Late that afternoon James, going neal
the front shop-windows, saw man in q
chaise below, leaning forward and talking
eagerly to one, of the firm. He could not bt
mistaken; he saw his master point straigh
ND to the window where his own bencl
stood, and he distinctly heard the ques
tion, "What does the doctor say?" The
answer did not reach him, but Jane
turaed deadly pale and sick he staggered