Rensselaer Republican, Volume 19, Number 25, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 February 1887 — A WIFE'S TRIALS. [ARTICLE]

A WIFE'S TRIALS.

BY MBS. H. N. BARFELL. “ ‘I endow thee with all my earthly possessions. 1 will love, cherish,*nnd protect? Yes, these are the exact words, and I should like to know just what they are intended to menu, or why they are in the ceremony at all. It seems to me n shameful mockery; a deliberate, wicked, almost unpardonable mockery to so solemnly repeat those words with no intention of trying to carry out the fulfillment of their import, as I don't believe one man in a hundred ever thinks of doing. The hundredth man probably intends to fulfill his solemn vows; bnt how in the world is he, under such conditions, to brave it out against, and force his way through, the inertia of common custom, I stpuld like to know,” and Mrs. Clayton’s fair, handsome hands worked more vigorously, as with an indignant energy, ns they stitched away on an ominous rent in the knee of a very email pair of sailor-blue pants. She bent her regal head over hgr work for a few minutes longer, then with gentle touch and a determined air. she folded the little garment and laid it aside, her hands slightly trembling as she arranged the ecraps, thread, and other contents of her work-basket preparatory to putting them away. - She arose to her feet; her hand rested firmly on the table, and her breath came in full, deep-drawn volumes as shejstood for some moments seemingly lost in deep thought. Her handsome face was unusually pale, and the tired look had deepened into an indescribable drawn look of mingled pain, pathos,indignation, and determination. Tears stood in those large, soulful gray eyes as she almost impatiently exclaimed: .“I'll not endure it any longer; I am wronging my precious little ones as well as myself and him, making a slave of myself in this unnecessary way. I feel that my strength is fast giving way; my health cannot hold out much longer; indeed. l am far from well now. I'll hire Mary Smith to-morrow.” With this decision, she gathered up her mended garments, lifted her restless baby from his crib and retired to snatch a few hours rest ere the weary rounds of another day’s duties should begin, to which was added the extra labor of cooking for harvest hands; and baby had not seemed well for the past few days; besides the two older babies, riecessarially left more to themselves, found more mischief with which to amuse themselves. And it did seem as if there was nothing that they could not, in some way, manage to reach and pull down or misplace. ~~~ ’ Six years before, Walter Clayton; the. Adcnis of all the surrounding country’, had wooed and won for his bride the magnificently beautiful and intelligent Catharine Ferguson, the principal in the high-school of a small city. He loved her as devotedly as the chivalry of his stout, honest heart would naturally prompt him to do. He was proud of her many admirable qualities —the strength, the depth, the breadth, aud the beauty of her intellect, as well as the charms of her magnificent form and lovelyface, which was crowned with a wealth of the most glorious waves of golden-brown hair.

By society she was considered rather large, but to him she seemed simply grandly perfect Oh, with what pride—perhaps too exulting pride—he carried her as his wedded bride to bis home to reign its queen—fit to grace a monarch’s throne.. Walter Olatton was full of life, health, strength, and apibition; ambition to gain wealthunduirigher station in life. and blessed with a clear conscience. He was the first-1 orn son of a well-to-do farmer, who had but recently been borne across the dark, mystic waters of the river’of death. The estate had been settled, and Walter was to pay a stipulated sum to each of the other heirs in consideration that he retain the homestead as his. The money could not all be paid at once, lint a few years good crops would relieve--the obligations very easily and add manyj contemplated improvements to the already largest and best-managed farm in the 4 community for many miles around. And. now this noble woman—his wife—with her great, gem-rous love, capability, and good sense, would aid him.

Her great scope of intellect could comprehend and manage much that an ordinary mind could not grasp. Thus it was that curing the first year of her marriage the old farm-house, garden, lawn, etc., underwent many changes with scarcely a seeming innovation on the sacred old time construction, except the covering up, smoothing out, or lopping off a little stain or roughness here and there, adding brightness and harmony to all; New wall-paper, carpets, curtains, and numerous pieces of furniture, and many other odds and ends had been furnished; neither had she asked her husband for the means with which to provide these things. No, she was glad in her large, loving unselfish heart to be able to provide them herself, and with them a little extra comfort for her hard-working, kind husband, out of a small legacy of her the money she had received as a salary for teaching in the city. Sometimes she wished that he would seem a little more pleased with her efforts; but she found a ready excuse in , the fact that he was always too much absorbed m business inuch attention to hold matters. Yet,, sometimes the yearning for a word, a smile of appreciation, would return. She did not even know that he only considered her . a sensible woman, doing only what was a woman’s duty to do, in bringing her little store and furnishing comforts for her busband with it instead of lavishing it upon herself for dress. She did not Entertain the faintest idea that not the least spark of sentiment lighted up his Soul in contemplating the benefits at her hand; that he only considered them as wifely duties, nothing more. In her noble, womanly heart she could not yet conceive the idea that in her hus-

band's soul there lived not (not haring yet been born) a loftier sentiment or higher appreciation of her work than just tip) measurement in material benefits. Even his praise of her superior accomplishments did not seem to ring with the fnllnees and fervor and depth and pure tone of a purely soulful passion and true love of a wholly unselfish heart. There seemed a thinness, a lightness, a discordant element of selfish pride m the ownership of a beautiful, accomplished, sensible, useful woman: The same praise he might have bestowed on a handsome horse. He, of course, would have resented such a charge had it beep made against him. To be sure, there was a difference between his real regard for his wife and that of .a horse, but the difference in conduct toward them was but trifling; the horse receiving the most tender care, and appreciative caresses, while his wife's soul-influence drew him to her and shed over him a restfulness, a contentedness, a happiness that no other woman’s could have done. But he considered the expression of soft sentiment, as be called it, the sign of weakness, undignified in a man; no man who respected himself would be guilty of such “silly weakness," In some vague way, he felt that the newness, the brightness, the pure freshness produced with his wife's little store, and by her creative hand, bad a soothing, satisfying influence upon him. tie admired her taste, and told her so with such a business-like air that she turned away, a suppressed sigh almost escaping her lips. She feared that she did not fully understand her husband, and she keenly realized that he did not comprehend her finer nature. ■Deep-seated in her nature there was a strong, keen sense of independence and a higbt of royal pride that forbade her asking for that which was rightfully hers, and should be awarded gladly and freely without the asking. She felt her husband drifting farther and farther, away from her, and she powerless to prevent it, or able to draw him back. “ Walter Clayton was fast beebmifig the hard, stern man of business that his father had been before him. Economy was, in his opinion, the model Virtue. Everything else must give way to his order of business. He would have considered it highly presumptuous innovation on hisiofdly prerogative, TEcTanunpardonable insult to bis wisdom, for his wife to have mentioned such a thing as keeping a houseservant. His mother had always managed her own house-work without hired help until the last two or three years of her life, when she had become a paralytic. Economy was doubly necessary now, as be yet owed something to the other heirs, and there were so many improvements to be made. Machinery and hands must be furnished on the farm; he could not economize here. AU of these things aided,in the production and the saving of money. No, economy must be practiced in the house; extra conveniences and hired help here consumed money, and, according to his profound reasoning, brought none in to the general hoard. Thus six weary years had flown backward into the eternal past; mother cares had increased, and household duties enlarged until they were becoming too heavy foFone woman to bear. The newnesspand brightness, and freshness that Kate Clayton had added to her home were, becoming sadly worn off, and in some parts even shabbiness was creeping in steadily and surely. Mr, Clayton never gave her money now, except, grudgingly, and for the most necessary things. This she must make reach far beyond its legitimate, or at least ordinary, capacity for use. Mrs. Clayton fully realized that all of' these heavy burdens were becoming too much of a strain on her strength and health. Long since the place w:as clear of debt; everything now seemed completed for an easy and comfortable management of the farm in order to bring in large returns for the labor expended; consequently large profits, which might have; provided ease and luxuries for all, but which was duly deposited in the bank for the purpose of purchasing other real estate. The grain harvest was now in full blast; two reapers were doing a driving business, and two “sets” of hands were to be provided with the comforts of a home. Walter Clayton did not stop to consider that since the farm required more than two or three extra hands during harvest time, that two sisters, older than himself, with strong, willing hands, had helped his mother inlliOSfi.duties. At the beginning of the harvest Mrs. Clayton. had..consulted ll£X_hllsbftnd about securing a good, stout girl to assist her with the work through harvest. This suggestion was met with such a stare of evident surprise and a “Why, Kate, mother never hired a girl in harvest in her life! Don’t you think that you can get .along this season, and we.shall be'better able next?” She felt that she dared not trust herself to lay the case 'before Inin then; besides, her pride held back her resentment of his injustice. But the time had now. come when she must claim her right, and she could easily' see that it wAs no easy task that lay before her. However, she was not a woman that would shrink from a duty? however disagreeable it might be, when she had once decided in fier honest mind that in any certain course lay that duty. Neither'was she a weak, humble, trembling, cringing, pleading slave before a master; she acknowledged no master, although for years she had quietly and peacefully submitted to her husband's judgment, secretly hoping, ever hoping against the stronger conviction in her heavy heart, that she might, without clash, work a change for the better condition and harmony in their domestic and son! relations, yet was hope ever persistent, She had given all—tender, strong.earnest love, self-sacrificing devotion, patient suffering and forbearance—and had received so little in return but careless indifference, with scarcely even a smile of approval.

Mrs. Clayton held to the principle of individual sovereignty—the moral right to exercise individual judgment, more especially when justice to others demands it. And disL not justice to her little ones, also to her husband’s better self, demand that she should now exercise a little of her own judgment? This she had decided to do that night when she decided that she would hire Mary Smith on the morrow. Marr Smith find offered her services to Mrsa Clayton that day. and was to receive a dccisivezreply the following dav. ? ~ The following morning Sirs. Clayton supped her coffee, but her food remained untoubbed on her plale, an unusual occurrence with her; but this morning she looked uneasily wan and weary. This’atTracfe<r Mr. "Clayton’s "noH'ce7a’fi<l“wstn The' other men had retired from the breakfastroom he demanded rather than inquired, in a voice which, though not coarsely harsh, was not yet very pleasant, indicating annoyance ratherthan concern: “What's the matter now. Kate, that you don't eat yonr breakfast?” “I'm very wfeary. Walter, and I fear that lam really ill. I have not felt vigil for some days, and baby is sp fretful I hardly know how to get along .with-liim,” and her voice was hoarse, low, and pathetically pleading. “Oh, cheer up, Kate. Don't get the blues first now". iust because the baby frets. He'll be all right soon, I’ll warrant. It is

his teeth, no doubt,” answered Mr. Clayton, in his peculiar wny of encouraging his wife to greater efforts to throw off her despondency. He niver had really scolded or found ; fault with her; indeed, he had no reason ito do so, added to the fact that he prided himself on his even temper, as well ns his shrewd management and strangely handsome personal appearance. Soup-times Kate Clayton almost wished he . would find fault;. ..almost anything seemed preferable to this dreary, monotonous life of thankless drudgery; then she could more easily- have demanded that which she felt was bnt her just due. She could more readily explain the situation in its true light to him. Then, perhaps he could be brought to, in some degree, comprehend her nature, and to understand many things that he did not now for a moment stop to consider She believed him only blindly inconsiderate 1 , as was really the case. She must speak now, however, and in a firmer, yet softer, more tender tone, she said: “But, my dear, I believe seriously that I am really ill and unable to hold out longer. Mary Smtth will be here to-day and I think I shall engage her to help me through harvest. I positively must have some help. For some moments Walter did not speak. He was surprised out of his usual equanimity; startled, astonished, literally struck dumb, and sat regarding his wife with that jieculiar, indescribable, surprised, hard stare of his, which seemed to mean, my authority is supreme. How dare you question mi/ wisdom?” as if he could not believe his senses, yet he was forced to realize at last that Kate had said something unusual and was awaiting his comment. Bnt what should he say? He could not realize that Kate could ever wear out or be ill, and rather sharply demanded: “What do you mean, Kate? Don’t you know that we must not be extravagant; that we must lighten expenses as much as possible to be able to build a cottage on that new lot and to put an addition to the old barn this autumn?” “But, Walter, I am certainly unable to accomplish all that is necessary to be done,” she said, a little spirited. t “Well, do what is the most necessary and let the rest go undone. Don’t worry yourself and your spirits will soon revive. Come, cheer up, Kate, and you’ll soon be as bright as a bird,” advised Walter in a sort of concilatory manner, illy concealing his vexation at what he considered her temporary weakness. “That’s just like a man,” rejoined Kate, as a ghost of a smile for a moment flitted. over her pale features. “They can’t realize that there are innumerable things that must be done to provide the ‘necessary’ dinners, suppers, and breakfasts. The .washings, the ironings, the dairy Work, the bed-making and sweeping, and the <;<>■»••» of the children, etc., all come in the catalog of‘necessary’work. If I had the help of a good girl,” she continued, “I could more than save the extra expense of her board and wages in extra care and labor.” “Oh, pshaw. Kate, that’s all nonsense.” “It’s true, Walter. Y'ou have no idea of the extra amount of work that goes undone every day for want of another pair of hands to do it. It would be cheaper to pay for help than a doctor’s bill and sun-: dry other additional expenses, the help included.” “Well, the men are waiting for me; I can’t stop now to talk. Suppose you try to get along the best you can without a girl—for awhile at least,” he supplemented as he hurried off after the men, thinking, and congratulating himself that lie had settled the matter and would hear nothing more of it. But for once in his life he was mistaken in the estimate of his wisdom and shrewdness in managing matters. Kate’s feelings were deeply and rudely touched. sFor some minutes she sobbed convulsively as she attended to the needs of the fretful infant in her weary arms. ~ Then, with quick but unsteady steps she, soon had the breakfast things cleared away. But now she began to feel strangely unsteady and weak; her head throbbed painfully and was giddy; her limbs refused to bear her weight and she sank wearily upon the floor. Some minutes passed before she was able to drag herself and baby to baby's crib and lay him on his soft, clean pillow; then dropping herself onto a sofa beside it, she leaned back her head and closed her eyes tightly to shut out the painful glare of the bright morning sun. “Oh, how sick I am! My head seems on fire!” she murmured as she lay back on the soft cushions, .extending one hand. Urgently sway her baby’s crib. The other two children now made their appearance. At first they could not understand why mamma could not dress them and give them their breakfast. But little 5-year-old Bertie soon began to comprehend that mamma was sick, and that she must prove herself equal to the occasion. She said in her sweet, childish confidence; ‘•Mamma, lie still. I will dress our“Mfres and get-owjkeakfastJ!--™-The hot tears suffused the fond mother’s eyes, and she could only reply: “Yes, dear.” Pleased with this permission, little Bertie set about her task, which she performed : quite credibly for so small a lady. “Now, mamma, may I get dinner?” “No, dear, but you may take care of your little brothers while mamma rests,"was the feeble reply.

“I will, mamma,” and the little nurse took up her station by the crib, where lay her year-old brother, tossing restlessly about, moaning in its sleep. How the forenoon passed, Kate never knew; and little Bertie', faithful to her trust, had a weary time of it, with watching little GeOrgie to keep him out of mischief and from getting hurt, and trying to soothe the pitiful ertes of het poor, sick, little baby brother.

At last noon came, as also did the men from the field. They washed at the pump, then entered the kitchen; on .its threshold Walter paused fork moment iu speechless astonishment aud consternation, gazing at the cold stove and the piles of unwashed breakfast dishes oji the table. No steaming hot, savoiy dinner greeted their senses. A great, undefined dread entered Walter’s heart as he looked around in an uncertain way, as if he could not believe his own eyes. “I don’t understand this,” he was sating, with a ring of mortification, mingled with vexation and fear in his tone when Bertie appeared at the dinning-room door with the moaning baby in her arms. “ Where’s your ma, Bertie?” he asked in anxious, yet scarcely tender tones. “Mamma’s very bad sick, papa; she's in here,” Bertie informed him, as her very worried-looking little face nestled -down to the baby’s.^ - q'he men, ten in all, filed into the diningroom. Walter walked across to his wife’s side, placed his hand on her burning brow, and spoke: , , 1— -—“Kate, what is tbeTSaner?” but he could make out no intelligible answer in her delerious murmurings. Turning to the men he said - “Well,-this is rather unfortunate, but perhaps we can find a cold bite that will stay hunger.” “Never mind the dinner, Clayton,” spoke one of the meh, “your kife is a very sick woman; hadn't some one of us better go for a doctor and some one else for some woman help?” Walter Clavton looked helpless and an-

swered, “yes. we must have help,” and dropped into a chair. •A realization of his short-sightedness was beginning to break in upon his hitherto /blinded senses. ■ . Bertie now came near him with the erving baby in her tired little arms. He reached out and took it. "Is it sick, too?” he questioned, in a sort of de-pairing way, as he looked into its pain-drawn and fever-flushed face. “It's a pretty sick child, Air. Clayton,” spoke a kind-hearted young man, Albert Grey, who had worked on Mr. Clayton’s farm for five years, and was ns one of the family. “Let me take it while you do something for Mrs. Clayton,” he thoughtfully offered, taking the infant tenderly ns a mother and carried it gently in his strong arms against his kindly heart. He gave it a drink of cocl water; it soon yielded to the soothing influence, and ceasing its pitiful moaning lay quietly in his arms, breathing fast and hard. But Walter did not know what to do until Albert told him to bathe her head in cohl water and towring cloths out of it and bind on her brow. A few minutes later a neighbor woman was there. In an houi more the doctor and Mary Smith had arrived. The old apostle of Esculapius shook his head ominously and advised perfect quiet and a good nurse. At the end of another hour everything was made as comfortable as possible. The •jnen had a “got-up” dinner that Mary soon set before them. One week later Walter Clayton shed the most bitter tears of his life over a newlymade little grave. But days passed before Kate knew that her baby had gone to sleep; that they had taken it from her side and laid it in its little earth-bed. Great, choking sobs of anguish shook the Strong form of her husband as he held her tenderly in his arms and told her of their loss. When she, in very weak, faint vdice, asked for her baby, they had tried to put her off for a little time, but she had pleaded so piteously to be permitted to see her sweet, little baby, that the kind, old doctor thought best to tell her. A very thin, white arm it was that Kato feebly raised and flung round her husband's neck, pressing his face close against her own and their tears flowed All present—the doctor, the nurse, and Man- —felt this to be a sacred grief, and in silent sympathy their own tears freely flowed. Mary, being the more impulsive, almost noiselessly escaped from the room, the tears blinding her, and rushed along to the kitchen wringing her hands. “Heaven pity their poor, sore hearts!” she moaned, as she closed the kitchen door behind her and turned to find herself in Albert’s arms. “What is the matter, Mary?” be asked concernedly, looking down into her streaming eyes and gently leading her to a seat. “Oh, they are heart-broken, Albert!” she sobbed. “It is a sad bereavement!” he replied, and his voibe, a little husky, was soft and low as he strove to soothe Mary’s agitation, and with gentle, tender hands wiped away her tears. Soon his efforts were rewarded by a sad, sweet smile from the clear, brown eyes looking straight into his own kindly blue ones. When the sobs had ceased to break the silence, and the discreet doctor and nurse had stolen but of the room, Walter, in a broken voice pleaded: “Kate, dear, can you ever forgive my cruelly careless neglect that has cost us so much bitter an■guish? Oh, Kate, darling! have pity on ine! I never knew how to appreciate you, nor how much I loved you, until I thought I must lose you.” “Let us forget it, my darling, " she replied in a trembling voice, and she wept softly in his arms, with head pillowed on his heaving breast. Kate then knew that in the loss of one sweet treasure she had gained another—her husband’s undying love. That unequaled artist, Nature, was painting in the most vivid colorings of brown, gold, ruset, and crimson, yet with the most delicate and harmonious touches, the autumnal robes of field and forest. The soft, balmy breezes of a glorious; October evening were gently kissing cheek and brow of the pleasant, happy group on the lawn in front of the Clayton residence. Kate Clayton had regained her formerhealth. A bright, contented smile o’erspread her fair face as she raised it to that of her husband, who sat beside her in the pleasant shade of a flaming maple. Albert and Mary were walking at a little distance, and Bertie and- Georgie were romping with Nero. “I don’t see how we are to spare Mary, Al; she has become a fixed necessity in our house,” spoke Walter with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Mary’s cheeks flushed brightly and her eyes drooped beneath the proud, lover-like glance that Albert bestowed upon her. Her happy heart beat quickly at the thought that Albert had, with his savings carefully laid up, purchased, a small farm of his own, and had been persuading her that he needed her to help him manage it, to which she had consented. But Walter, stoutly, with pretended opposition to their plans, declared that Albert should not have her until he had procured as good a help for Kate.