Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 August 1893 — THE PRICE OF SUCCESS. [ARTICLE]

THE PRICE OF SUCCESS.

There was a din of carpenter’s tools and the rasping of a painter’s scraper on the west wing of the house when Mrs. Hunter stopped in the midst of her work and shaded her eyes from the glaring rays of the spring sun. ' Besides being a little nearsighted, overwork with the needle by lamplight had made her eyes weak. Facial neuralgia had left indelible marks of suffering and nervous irritableness stamped on the thin outlines of the pinched face, and the entire muscular system twitched sympathetically with the blinking eyes. The sound of work on the west wing of the large country house had attracted her attention, and the gazed as earnestly at the workmen as if this constituted her sole purpose in life. Far away in the distance the hazy outlines of the hills rose up majestically in the bright spring sunlight, wooded to the summit of their bold heads with the green verdure of another season’s leafy growth. Long stretches of flowerdecked fields, shaded with fruit and ornamental trees, sloped down from the bills to the closely-cropped lawn surrounding the old mansion. In the clean-* swept yard clumps of early roses were opening their buds to the mild, balmy air, and sweet honeysuckle vines were twining their delicate tendrils over arbors and trellis-works. Mrs. Hunter's eyes passed by all of these sights, and saw only the dark side to the whole scene. She turned from her position near the front yard, and walked back to the hot kitchen with her quick, nervous tread. A girl with flushed cheeks and an old calico dress on was bending over a sideboard scrubbing the knives and forks. Shu did not hear her mother’s footsteps, and Mrs. Hunter remained quiet a moment, gazing at the bent form. When she spoke it was in a quick, sharp aud unmodulated voice. “ ’Mandy, what are the men doin’ on the west wing?” The girl s'arted at the sudden interruption in her work; but she replied without looking around: “I don’t know, mother, unless they’re fittin’ it up fur—fur” “Fur what?’’ “ I heard Father say as how he 'spected boarders from the city this summer.” 14 Boarders /” Mrs. Hunter emphasized the word, but made no further comment for some time. She was looking straight ahead at her daughter, bnt ’Alandy did not heed the steady gaze. She kept on in her hard, humdrum, daily work. “ When did you hear Father say this?” Mrs. Hunter always addressed her husband as Father. “ Day before yesterday,” replied the girl.

“ Why didn’t you tell me before ?” the worn-out woman continued, asking her questions pointedly. , “ I thought—as—how it might worry you, Mother, and y—“I see,” interrupted Mrs. Hunter. She became quiet again, gazing this titne out of the window. It was an unusual thing fer Mrs. Hunter to remain idle seven for a few minutes, and ’Handy grew nervous and restless at the change. She scrubbed away at the knives more vigorously, and ventured several low remarks about the grease and dirt, but her mother did not notice her. “’Mandy, haven’t we work enough?” the little woman inquired, in a peculiar voice. “Yes, Mother, we have more—than”— Her eyes looked around the room, at the dirty dishes, untidy furniture, unmendtd clothes, and articles needing attending to that had been stowed away in every hook and corner. “Then what would we do with boarders?”

“I don’t know,” the girl replied, in the same weak, monotonous voice, "un - less—unless—we cared for ’em as we do fur other things.” “ ’Mandy, I ain’t likin’ city boarders, an’ specially them that Father will bring out here. They’re too high-flutin’ an’ stuck up. We ain’t goin’ to work fur ’em neither.” “But, Mother, how ” “Never mind how—we ain’t goin’ to.” Mrs. Hunter jerked her words out with a decided air, and then, picking up the drying towel, she b:gan to wipe the knives and forks with quick, deft motions. Neither worker spoke for a long time, and the bright spring morning waned into the calm, peaceful afternoon; bat the labors of the two pairs of busy hands were not finished until long after darkness had settled over the earth.

John Hunter returned from his work on the large farm, and repaired to his study, where be spent the greater part of the afternoon and evening in consulting books and diagrams. He was a strong, well-formed, and handsome man of his age, with a large, massive brow, and .a hard, determined mouth. The few iron-gray hairs and prominent wrinkles of his face were in perfect harmony with the rest of his appearance. He was a self-made, successful man and one who had met and overcome many difficulties in life. The very adversities which he had encountered were the secrets of his success; but they had also formed a character as hard, stern, and relentless as the rock-ribs of his hilly land.. Ambition to accumulate money led him on to enrich his mind with knowledge, not for the pleasure which it could afford, but for the higher reach of power and wealth which it would inevitably bring. His spacious, well-cultivated fields yielded him no greater joy than his well filled library, stocked with *4 ot the valuable books which he needed. In this comfortable room he apent a part of h;s time each day, watchMents in the world of lienee and literature, me was employed id rs of the farm, or in » for furthering his

financial Interests. By degrees he drifted away from his family, associating even less with them in thought and sympathy than in person, but always with the self-satisfied feeling that he was providing comfortably for them. Their life began and ended in the affairs of the household, and John Hunter firmly believed that such a narrow, restricted sphere was essential to the happiness of woman, for a broader field of thought and action would be confusing and stultifving to her mind. Mrs. Hunter had always been a meek, modest wife, ready to console her husband, and to slave for the common good ; and during the dark, gloomy days of their e«rly lives she had toiled and economized bravely as her share in the mutual burdens. These early lessons of self-denial formed her character and method of life, so that when prosperity came she still clung to her work. As the farm and house were increased in size the work assumed gigantic proportions, and ’Alandy and her mother were pushed night and day to get through with it before bedtime. Airs. Hunter’s modesty forbade her to request the services of “hired help" in the house, and her husband, absorbed in his own work and thoughts, seemed oblivious to the fact that a servant was essential to the household. He had his own men to work in the fields by the dozen, but these were all necessary during the short harvesting period, and the farm could not bo carried on without their help. Mrs. Hunter-and ’Mandy toiled on under the additional burdens, and found very little time for self-culture and improvement. In this way the separation of the family gradually widened; for the successful man developed in the line of thought and action in a larger sphere, while the wife aud daughter narrowed and restricted their existence in the little details of household slavery. The new wing had been built on the already large house without Mrs. Hunter’s advice, and, although she secretly rebelled against the enlargement of the old paternal home, she made no open opEosition. The idea of opposing her usband’s wishes had never yet entered her mind; but when she found that the new addition was being fitted up for city boarders a defiant spirit rose in her.

John Hunter never considered it necessary to tell his wife of any new arrangement until it was all completed. The fact that he was going to take boarders from the city during the summer was not mentioned until the west wing was all completed and nicely furnished. Then one day he remarked to his wife just before leaving for the village: “The rooms are fitted up nicely, and I guess our city people will find it to their liking. ’’ Mrs. Hunter gulped down a lump in her throat, and then said in a voice that seemed unnatural to her: “We can’t take city boarders here. Father.” John Hunter did not seem to comprehend the meaning of his wife’s remark, and he continued in an absentminded way: “We can accommodate a young couple, or even three, in the west wing.” There was another hard gulp, and then, in the same unnatural voice: “But, Father, I say we can’t take city boarders.”

The man began to understand the meaning of the little woman’s opposition, and he looked a little embarrassed. 44 We have no servant to do the work,” his wife continued, “and we do not need the money. ’Alandy is worn out with work, and I cannot do any more. We can’t take city boarders.” One of the farm laborers interrupted the conversation here, and the meek woman retired thankfully from the scene. Her courage wns fast ebbing away, and the little body was ail in a tremble. Nothing more was said about the city boarders for sometime, and Mrs. Hunter in her quiet way was thankfully congratulating herself on her easy victory. It was the first time she had ever objected to any of her husband’s plans, and the grace with which he yielded made her love and respect him all the more. She half regretted that she had openly refused to take his boarders, and she endeavored to atone for it by numberless little acts of kindness and attention.

“Have the papers come from the post office yet, mother? Ah, yes, here’s the Herald ." John Huuter always followed the news of the day carefully, and, as he dropped into a chair to rest, he tore the covering from the paper, and opened the sheet hastily. “Any news in partickler?" asked his wife, rubbing a few specks of dirt from the furniture. “No—that is,”the man replied slowly, “my advertisement appears to day. I want to sec how it reads.” Mrs. Hunter’s bright face changed in an instant, and she asked, in a trembling whisper: “What advertisement? ” ‘‘Why, for boarders,” was the impatient answer. "It is time we did something. The west wing is all ready for occupants.” He soon became absorbed in reading the paper, while the poor woman stole stealthily out of the house. Her face was white, and the bloodless lips were drawn tightly over the teeth. Her breathing was quick and sharp. Nature no longer offered sights of beauty to her. A dark cloud seemed to obscure the landscape, and the sun appeared as an emblem of blackness rather than of light. Under an old apple tree, where strange eyes could not see her, she gave way to her grief, and wept bitter tears of poignant sorrow.

John Starrow, the stalwart lover of ’Mandy, found her there and nearly stumbled over the stooping form. She tried to hide her tear-stained eyes from his bright, searching ones; but he was not so easily baffled. He had watched and pitied the careworn face too carefully to fail to uotice a change. “Hullo, Mother, you’ve been cry:n’,” he said, in his frank way. "What’s up now? Broke a chiny plate, or spilt the dish water on tho carpet? No? Well, what is it? Don’t be afraid to tell.” He passed a strong arm around her slight waist, and nearly lifted her off the ground. The tear-wet eyes blinked and winked hard to keep back the signs of her recent sorrow. “Oh, come, don’t keep anything back. I know something’s wrong, an’ it must be serious this time. You’re all broken up. But here comes ’Mandy; she’ll know.” ’Mandy, in search of her mother, discovered the two in the orchard, and soon approached them. A long consultation was held, during which the whole secret was exploded. The keyword to the whole difficulty was “boarders,” and ’Mandy’s active mind filled out the rest of the story. Mrs. Hunter felt better when she returned to the house. The force of the blow had been deadened by the sudden outburst of tears, and then by the comforting words and attention of ’Mandy and her lover. John Starrow owned a neighboring farm, and had been courting ’Man<% for years; but he had not {nested his suit owing to the fact that

Mrs. Hunter could not spare her daughter. So the big, frank, handsome lover had equally divided his time between working hard in the fields and in comforting the two forlorn women. His services this time were inestimable, and he took advantage of the scene to bring to a climax. The wedding day for the young couple was set. John and ’Mandy have decided to get married in three days,” Mrs. Hunter explained to her husband that evening. “They want to get married in the west wing, and they’ve got to do it before the city boarders come." “Well, I don’t like it; but I suppose they must. Can’t they wait until fall?” ' “No; they are determined to get married in three days, and then go to the city on their wedding trip.” Mr. Hunter made no further comment; but two days later while holding an open letter in his hand, he said: “Well, it’s lucky they didn’t put the wedding off any longer. I’ve got boarders for the west wing ooming the very night of the wedding.” “Oh, how fortunate!” exclaimed his wife, examining the letter. “Yes; but we must get the couple off before noon, bo’s we can fix up the rooms a little before the boarders come.”

“Yes," assented Mrs. Hunter, modestly. The excitement of the approaching wedding prevented the little woman from indulging in any grief, "and if she rebelled against the coming of city boarders she kept her own counsel. She and ’Mandy performed a prodigious amount of work during the hours of the day, and willing neighbors offered their help. The couple were to be married early in the morning, and then depart for the city on the morning train. The wedding morning was a bright and promising one, and long before the sun was up there was considerable bustle around the house. ’Alandy looked pretty and happy as she hurried around to make hasty preparations for the coming ceremony. John Stairow soon appeared and caught the blushing girl in his arms, to steal his first kiss on his wedding day. The bridal couple were as handsome as could be wished, and even John Hunter complimented them on their appearance. He looked at his own worn and faded wife; but if memory brought up feelings of regrets he kept them to himself. He was strangely silent and observant, and did not appear os happy and smiling as the occasion might have warranted.

When the ceremony was over, the breakfast partaken of, good-by kisses and sobs exchanged, the happy pair were carried off to the station by their father. He kissed 'Mandy good-by on the platform, and then stood still and watched the train disappear in the distance. The parting from his daughter made him thoughtful and absent-minded. When he reached home he found his wife sweeping and wiping the furniture in the west wing, preparing everything for the new boarders. The sight made him feel angry with himself, and he wandered from room to room, and then out into the orchard. The guests had all departed, and the place seemed strangely lonesome and deserted. The afternoon dragged along wearily, and the man was glad when night approached. It was dark when he reached the station again to meet the evening train. He found his two boarders waiting for him—a short, well-formed lady, deeply veiled, and a large, well-built man. Owing to the veil of the lady and the surrounding darkness, he could not see the features of either one distinctly. The journey from the station to the house was a short one, and Mr. Hunter could not find words with which to entertain his new boarders. The events of the day had unsettled his happiness, and he could think of nothing but his lost daughter and his poor, lonesome wife. The thought then occurred to him that, in his negligence, he had not asked how long ’Mandy intended to stay in the city. By the time he had left the boarders at the front door he was heartily sick of the whole day’s doings. His conscience pricked him some, but most of the blame he attributed to a bilious stomach. “I don’t feel \vell,” ( he muttered, as he walked toward the house, after seeing that the horses were properly housed. “It must be another attack of biliousness. I’m all out of sorts. I’ll get ’Mandy to”— Then he stopped and made an ejaculation when he remembered that she was no longer with tjiem. He entered the house, where the supper was already on the table. Mrs. Hunter was looking pretty in a new dress, with ruffles around the throat and hands, and two bright burning spots on her cheeks. She was busily flying around, from one thing to another, and when her husband entered she greeted him with a smile. “Are you ready for supper, Father?” she asked. “Yes—no—l don’t feel well,” he stammered. “Well, eat something, and you’ll feel better,” sympathizingly replied his little wife. “Yes. but those confounded—that is, I wish we didn’t have company. I don’t feel like entertaining.” “Why, we only have the boarders. I will call them now.” “Well, go ahead,” the man replied, pulling himself together with an effort. “If I’ve got to entertain them I’ve got to.”

It was a wan sort of smile which he tried to put on his face as the parlor door opened and the two boarders appeared in the dining room. He stood with his face toward the door, and he surveyed them silently for a moment. But the smile slowly disappeared, and a look of puzzled confusion succeeded it. “Why. bless me—what’s this? Mother, how’s this?” The sick man turned from John Starrow and his new bride to the blushing little woman near bis side. Mrs. Hunter was turning red and pale by turns, and her quick breathing prevented her from speaking. John Starrow approached the astounded man and said: “I read in the city Herald, Father, that you wanted boarders, and as ’Mandy and I wanted to get board out here I wrote to you. We’ve engaged the west wing for a year. We’ll be very good boarders, and pleasant at that." “And we’ll help you and Mamma ever so much,” chimed in the new bride. “Ob, Father, don’t look at me so!” finally exclaimed Mrs. Hunter, unable longer to control her feelings. “Don’t be angry with me for the deception. I didn’t want city boarders; they spoil tho home so, an’—an’ ” She burst out sobbing, and covered her eyes with her hands. “There, there, Mother, it’s all right,” her husband said, supporting her with a strong arm. “I didn’t know you felt—felt this way. It’s all right. I don’t—don’t want any city boarders either. Let ’Mandy and John keep the west wing, and we’ll live together.” There was a little moisture around his eyes, and he turned hastily toward the table to conceal it. “Well, come, we’ll have the wedding feast now," he said. “Everything is

ready. I don’t feel sick any mors, f haven’t been to a wedding feast since—why, mother, not since we were married, and that’s—bless met—nigh on to twenty-five years. This will be the anniversary of that event.” With that_ba kissed the lips of his wife for the first time in years, and the four sat down to a wedding feast that marked a new epoch in the household. It was not many days before a servant lightened the burdens of the two newlymarried couples; for Mrs. Hunter always maintained that she was married anew that night, and that it was just as much her wedding supper as’Mandy’s. —[lndependent.