At last the county voted liquor out. This did some good; the temptation was farther away. But even then he would make several trips a year to the nearest liquor town and always with the same result. If a neighbor were going to town at the same time she would ask him to look after her husband. And when the erring man staggered home she would put him to bed and cook him something to eat—not always ham and eggs and delicacies, but the best she had. She never slipped anything in his coffee to cure him secretly.
And she has almost won. He is not proof against them yet, but the “sprees” are few and far between.
Six children call her mother—two womanly daughters well married, another a lovable and accomplished young woman, a handsome son, with his mother’s wonderfully calm eyes, who detests liquor, and two young girls at school.
A neat white house with green blinds has taken the place of the log structure. She is a model housekeeper and has always done all her work—cooking, sewing, washing, ironing, scrubbing, milking, churning, sweeping, poultry-raising and one thousand and one other things. Besides this she has tied up sore toes and cut fingers, poulticed boils, applied hot salt to all manner of aches and pains; doctored mumps, whooping-cough and la grippe; and successfully nursed measles, pneumonia and fever.
Her face has lost some of its freshness and her hair is turning gray, but she is still the blessed counselor of her family and she still finds time to visit and make herself a true, cheerful friend and neighbor.
HER SACRIFICE
Miss ⸺ lives in ⸺, Ohio. She was born on a farm where she lived with her father and mother and two brothers and one sister. The father became surety for a friend who failed, and it took the father’s farm to pay the debt. The family therefore left the farm, and moved to the county-seat, in the suburbs, and in a small house and two lots began life anew. He rode the country buying stock for other men, kept cows and peddled milk in the town, kept forty hens and sold eggs, cultivated the lots in garden produce, and kept the family together. One fortunate result of leaving the farm, the children were put into the city schools. Miss ⸺ graduated in the high school, and obtained a certificate to teach. The two brothers married and left the city. Then finally the sister married and left. Miss ⸺, at the age of 26, was left to care for her parents in their declining years.
She obtained a position as teacher in the city schools and devoted her wages to the care of the home, and looked after her parents when out of school hours. There came offers of honorable marriage, for she was strong, healthy, comely and attractive. She could not consider them. Her parents could not do without her. They were declining in strength and looked to her for the care of the household. She taught on, and with her wages kept them in comfort. Two years ago the good old mother, weary of life, departed for the better land. Two years longer the old father lived, kept the house during the day while the daughter was in the schoolroom and awaited the sound of her footsteps in the evening returning from the school. In January he lay on the bed stricken with a fatal sickness, though unknown to him or her, and while they talked together as she bent over him he ceased to breathe, and she was left alone in the world, unmarried, without a home, and the prime of her good life spent in assiduous care of her parents—at the age of forty years! All hope of a home and family of her own sacrificed to her sense of duty to her father and mother! What is to be her reward? Many another has made a like sacrifice, but how is she to recoup the loss of the fourteen years spent in their service—the loss of her own home and family and children and all the sweet consolations of the state of motherhood? Was it not a heroic life? How few would have met it! Only those who know of her self-sacrifice will know how to honor her. Her fidelity, so unobtrusive, will be little noted by the world. But how grand and noble the sacrifice she has made!
QUIET COURAGE
Elizabeth Stanton was born about sixty-five years ago in a beautiful Southern town. She was the youngest daughter of Judge James Stanton, one of the ablest jurists of the state.