Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 April 1886 — Wearing Her Life Away. [ARTICLE]

Wearing Her Life Away.

There is nothing sadder looking than the over-worked woman who is a slave to her children. For her there is no rest. At midnight, at noon, and at evening, she is in relentless demand. Her spirit is broken, and with a voice stirring in its tones, of resignation, she speaks of her hardships. A neighbor visits her. The visitor is shown into a room devastated by recent romp and riot. “No, I never go any place. lam so tired that—Edgar, don’t saw that ehair, dear. He’s not very well to-day. He didn’t sleep but little last night.' Louis, don’t climb on the table; There!” The table falls over with a bang and Louis sets up a howl. “There, now,” says she, as she smooths back his hair and kisses his forehead, “it won’t hurl long, dear. Mamma’s got something niee for you—yes, she has.” “Somethin’fbr me, too?” Edgar yells. “Yes, something for both of you. Run along, now, Louis, and see what little sister is doing.” “Don’t want to see.” “Well, run along out and play; run along, that’s a good "boy. ” “Don’t want to.” “Please go, now, like a good boy. You run along, Edgar, and he’ll follow vou.”

“No, he won’t,” says Edgar, as he lingers in the doorway.; !‘Now don’t you’'see'h'e won’tT i_ ”’*"''' . “Well, both of you run alopg like—” A distressing cry arises. The woman rushes out and retums beanng a little child in her arms. “Did mamma’s little darling hurt herself? Yes, she did. Now, don’t cry. The lady will laugh at you.” “I don’t care if she does.” “Oh! shame on you to talk that way. Nobody will love you if you talk that way.” “Don’t want anybody to love me.” “There, dear, run along and mamma will let yon go down town with her when she goes.” “Me, too?” yelled Edgar tod Louis. “Yes, you may all go.” “Are you goin’ right now?” Ekgar asks. f .. ’ “No, not now.” __±When.’”„ “After awhile.” “Oh, that’s what you always say.” ♦♦#«* ♦ ‘ ♦ 1 = She sits by the bedside. She has just placed a wet cloth on a little feverish head. The house is silent. The other children have gone over to stay at a neighbor’s house. She sighs and then, unable longer to restrain her feelmgs.sheburios her face -in the bedclother,„and bursts into tears. Neighbors gather around her. They tell her that God knows best. She hears the minister repeat the divine words: “Suffer little children to come unto me.”- ;

• * » \ ♦ * ,-*• Jk - Years pass, A man who has just arrived in town, in the town where he was born, goes to the cemetery. He stands with uncovered head near a sunken grave.' The green growth of years covers the stone, but he reads the name of his mother. He knows that he helped to wear her life away. How often had he pained that dear heart which is now dust beneath his feet. He feels that his mother is now looking down upon him—knows that her soul is at rest. He turns away and t meets a woman and several children. “Tommy, you must not throw stones. Come here, Andrew, and let me wipe"’ your nose. Millie, what is the matter, dear? Fell down-? Well, don’t cry, dear, it won’t hurt long. Andrew, take that shell out of your mouth. Now, look at you, got your clothes all dirty. Come on, now, and lets go home." “You promised to stay a long time?’’ one of the children petulantly says. " “Well, haven’t we stayed a long time?” “No, we haven’t. ” “Please let us go home. Poor mamma is so tired.” “No, vou ain’t.” “Yes, I am.” “Come on, an’ let’s go down here.” They drag her along. The man hears her sigh. He knows that-the children are wearing her life away.