CHAPTER IV.

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A SAD STORY.
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T was, indeed, time that help should come to the poor widow, for a cough had fastened itself on her lungs, which would soon have ended her life. The room was damp and chilly, and her clothing quite too scant for winter. Mrs. Miles would not wait till she had earned money to buy wood and clothing and food.

"They would all freeze and starve," she told the people where she went begging. "I want to get something to save their lives; and then, when she is comfortable, the woman can earn enough to support her family."

In two weeks you would never have known the room; the glass was mended, and now the sun shone in. There was a pretty, old-fashioned bedstead, four nicely painted chairs, a table with leaves, a tiny mirror, a patch spread, and the cunningest little cooking-stove, which kept the room beautifully warm. At least, Johnny thought so when he came dancing home from his work.

Besides all this, Mrs. Miles had procured from an old lady some healing syrup, which had nearly cured the troublesome cough; and Mrs. Talbot could sew now very well, without that terrible pain in her side.

She told her dear friend one day, that if she could only forget her past trouble, she should be quite happy,—happier than she had ever expected to be again.

"You must tell me about your troubles," Mrs. Miles said. And one afternoon, when Johnny was at work in the factory, and Ella was taking her nap, Mrs. Talbot began,—

"I was married when I was only seventeen, and went with my husband to the western part of New York State. He was a carpenter, and could get good wages, which supported us in great comfort. Johnny was almost seven years old when Dexter, that is, my husband, told me he wanted to bring home one of his workmen to live with us. The man had no home, and, as he did not think it right to spend his evenings in a tavern, he was very lonely. His name was Robert Hardy, and he gave very little trouble. He grew to be fond of Johnny, and spent many leisure hours in amusing him and making him playthings.

"But one day he came home sick; and for two weeks he never left his bed. Dexter and I took all the care of him. When he grew better, he went away to his mother. He sat by the fire thinking. I expected he would thank us; but he did not. He held Dexter's hand like a vise; and he tried to say good-by to me; but his voice failed. I have never seen him since. I feel sure he was grateful. The doctor had told him our care saved his life.

"The very night he left, Dexter grew delirious; he had stayed at home with a cold for a week. The doctor came again, and said he had taken the fever.

"Oh, those were dreadful days! He grew worse and worse, and I—it breaks my heart when I think that I had nursed a stranger, and couldn't nurse my own husband—I was lying on a bed in the same room; and my little Ella lay beside me. Every moan of Dexter's went through my heart; and when he died, all hope and joy died with him. I cared for nothing. I remember but little of those long, weary months which followed. I should have died but for the kindness of my neighbors.

"The Rector visited me; but I scarcely understood what he said. When Dexter died, there were three hundred dollars laid by in the bank. Fifty of it went for his funeral expenses and my mourning; and the rest went little by little, till I had not a shilling left. Then Johnny was taken sick. I hoped he would die; I hoped we all should die; but I began to think that I was not prepared to follow my husband to heaven. He loved his Saviour, and I did not.

"I tried to pray. The Rector's wife prayed with me, and led me to Jesus. I learned to trust in him; but I was wholly inexperienced, and knew not how to earn a living for myself and my little ones. I thought if I could only get home to my parents that I should be happy; but I had nothing left to pay my expenses.

"One by one my pieces of furniture were sold, and I was dependent on charity for my daily food. At last they raised the money to pay my fare, and, with all I had in the world packed in Dexter's chest, I left the place where I had experienced the greatest joy and the greatest sorrow I had ever known.

"When I reached home I found my father helpless from a paralytic stroke, and mother worn out with care of him. One of my friends owned this old house, and offered me the use of it. He said, as it was near the factory, we could get work. I might have done something, but I took cold and was unable to sit up. Afterward, when I inquired again and again at the factory, I was told that they had already more applicants than they could supply.

"At last Johnny got a place there; but his wages were small, and—and—unless you had found us, I think we should really have starved."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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