Ethel Wright, or, Only a music teacher

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CHAPTER I. “thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud.”

“Mamma, don’t cry! Please, dear mamma, don’t cry, ’cause it makes Ethel cry to see you cry;” and the little girl sobbed as if her heart would break. Mrs. Wright, with her head buried in a pillow, was lying on a couch weeping bitterly ; but at the sound of her little daughter’s voice she sat up and drew the child to her side.

“Don’t cry, Ethel, see dear! Mamma is all right now,” and Mrs. Wright endeavored to stop weeping; and comfort the child.

“But why are you here? Mamma thought you were sleeping.”

“I was sleeping, but I waked up and heard you crying. Then I got up real quiet so as not to wake baby or Harry, and corned to see if you was sick. Is you sick, mamma, or is you crying ’cause papa did not come home?”

“Mamma is not sick, darling; but it is eleven o’clock and papa has not come home from work,” and she struggled to keep back the tears as she took Ethel in her arms and kissed her.

“Papa come home soon, mamma, ’cause I prayed: ‘Please, dear Jesus, send papa home early,’ when I said, ‘Now I lay me,’ but you did not hear me ’cause baby was crying. Won’t Jesus send him home, mamma?”

“Yes! my dear little comforter; but you must go back to bed for the fire is out, and you will take cold.”

Poor Mrs. Wright, her burden was heavy indeed. A look at her sad, sweet face and poorly furnished home told a story of poverty and neglect.

When Harold Wright first met her, she was the acknowledged belle of Hazelroth. She was but eighteen then, pure and sweet, loved by all, and loving every one. She was not very tall, but had a slim and graceful figure. Her hair was the envy of all her girl friends. It fell in exuberant curls over her high forehead. She was a decided blonde, with a very fair complexion, while her laughing blue eyes seemed to capture all hearts.

In all Hazelroth there was not a girl as happy and free from care as Marie Smith. She had two sisters and three brothers, but Marie was the youngest, petted and loved by all.

This was Marie when Harold Wright first met her.

He was the only son of Captain Henry Wright, but a spoiled child. His mother worshipped him, and now at twenty years of age, he caused her many anxious hours by his wild and extravagant ways.

He was visiting a friend in Hazelroth, when he met Marie Smith at a picnic. He thought it would be fun to flirt with her and “cut the country rubes out,” but it was not long before he found he loved her.

And she, poor child, loved him, not knowing how cruel and deceitful he was. He had joined the church choir and had done everything to make her love him.

So when he asked her to be his wife she thought that she would have heaven on earth. It was not long before she found she had been deceived. Mrs. Wright did not approve of the match, as she thought her son would marry a wealthy old maid and a friend of the family. So when her son married without asking his parents’ consent, she forgave him, but blamed Marie, and would not receive her; and after a stormy scene Harold left home, vowing never to return until they would recognize her.

This was a great shock to Marie, for Harold had told her that his parents approved of his choice, but could not come to the wedding because his mother was ill, and his father could not leave her. He knew that nothing could induce Marie to marry him if she knew that his parents would not receive her and considered her beneath him, for she was a proud girl.

It was not until after they were married that he told her of his parents’ anger. It was a cruel blow to Marie, for her trust in him was so great she did not think it possible for him to deceive her; but Harold Wright knew how to plead, and Marie forgave him.

It was a very humble home indeed that he took his bride to, for Harold had never saved a cent. When he worked he earned very good wages, for he was a very fine machinist. He did not like to work, and only did so when he could not get enough money from his mother ; for his father would not give him any, but his mother gave him all she could.

About half a mile from the Smith homestead was the village grocery store. Mr. Simon, the grocer, owned the building and lived on the second floor, over the store. It was to three small rooms on the third floor that Harold Wright took his bride.

There were no carpets on the floor and not much furniture, but Mrs. Wright (as we will now call her) was very happy, and proved to be a very good housekeeper.

Her home was always neat and clean, while the floors were as white as soap and water could make them.

For about a year Mr. Wright worked quite steadily, then he grew weary of well doing, and started to mingle in bad company.

Oh! Flow Mrs. Wright’s heart did ache when she saw him drifting away from her, and coming home intoxicated night after night.

Thus matters grew worse and worse; and to-night it seemed as if she could not suffer much longer.

Three children had come to bless their home. Ethel, four years old; Harry, two years, and Russell, just six months.

Ethel was a great comfort to her mother; although only four years of age, she had the wisdom of a child of six. She was a very thin, nervous child, with light curly hair like her mother. It was to her that Mrs. Wright told all her trouble.

Poor woman, she had to tell someone; and she was too proud to tell her parents, sisters, brothers or friends.

Harry was a lively boy with dark hair and brown eyes, like his father, but how her heart did ache when she saw that he had also a very quick temper, like his father.

Every night she knelt beside his crib, and asked the Heavenly Father to help her to control his temper, and bring him up in the straight and narrow way.

For the past year Mr. Wright had scarcely worked at all, and when he did, he spent all he earned for drink.

Mrs. Wright was a very fine seamstress, and from early in the morning until late at night she sewed to support her little ones. Many a day she went hungry that they might be fed.

Many women would have grown to hate the man that made them suffer so; but although Mr. Wright neglected, cursed and starved her, she loved him just the same.

Sometimes, in his sober moments, he gave her a kind word. How her poor, crushed heart would cherish that word, and how much lighter her step and brighter her face would be for the rest of the day.

He had worked quite steadily the past week, and to-day was pay-day. He had told her he would be home early, but the hours passed one by one and he did not come.

It was the same old story. Instead of coming home, he had passed the door and gone to the tavern two blocks farther on.

Finally, heartsick and disappointed, she threw herself on the couch and sobbed.

It was this that awoke Ethel, and she hastened to her mother’s side, as we have already read.

“Poor mamma, cold too,” Ethel said as her mother carried her back to the crib where she slept with Harry.

“Mamma come to bed, and get warm.”

“Yes, my dear, I will not sit up any longer. So go to sleep ;” and she kissed Ethel as she tucked her in bed.

After weeping softly for some time, at last Mrs. Wright closed her weary eyes in sleep.

But it was not for long. Just as the village clock told the hour of midnight a heavy step was heard on the stairs. Stumbling and cursing at each step, Mr. Wright reached the door at last.

Opening the door, which had been left unlocked for him, he looked about the room.

Not finding his wife waiting for him seemed to make him furious.

Coming into the room and slamming the door behind him, he called out angrily, “Marie.”

“Yes, Harold,” Marie answered, gently; “I got tired of waiting and went to bed.”

“Went to bed, did you? Well, then, just git up and git my supper. You lazy thing, after I have worked all day, don’t you think I want something to eat?” and, seizing the bed covering, he pulled them off of his wife amid curses and threats.

Swiftly she dressed herself while he went back to the dining-room.

He was so drunk he could scarcely stand, and running into a chair upset it.

The noise awoke the baby and he began to cry.

“Make that brat shut up, or I’ll choke him.”

Taking the baby in her arms, and wrapping a shawl around him, Mrs. Wright built the fire and soon had a tempting supper before him.

She had purchased a tender piece of steak for the children’s dinner the next day, but gladly gave it to her husband to quiet him.

“Harold, have you any money left for me ?” she timidly asked.

“Money! Money! that’s all you think of,” he roared, and putting his hand in his pocket he drew out some change, and with an oath threw it at her.

The tears rolled down her cheeks as she stooped to pick it up.

The sight of her tears made him more angry, and picking up the platter with the meat, threw it at her.

It struck her hand, and then crashed to the floor, while the hot meat and gravy ran over her hand and down the front of her dress. She was pale as death, as, staggering to the bedroom, she laid the baby on the bed. Luckily he had escaped, and as if knowing something ii was wrong, never murmured when she laid him down and left him.

Going to the kitchen she bathed her hand. Not a tear did she shed, only the white set look on her face told more plainly than tears how she was suffering.

After hurling the platter, Mr. Wright had fallen into a drunken sleep in his chair; and knowing it would be almost impossible to awaken him, his wife let him sleep. After whispering words of comfort to Ethel and Harry, who had awakened but were too frightened to move, she undressed and falling on her knees told her sorrows to God. And oh! how earnestly she prayed for her fallen husband, and for strength to bear her trials. She arose from her knees somewhat comforted, and laid down beside the baby.

At last her eyes closed in sleep; but her dreams must have been troubled, for now and then a sob or a moan could be heard.

Chapter II. Ralph Smith

It was about five o’clock in the morning when Mr. Wright awoke.

He glanced about in surprise, trying to account for sleeping in his chair. Suddenly his eyes rested on the pieces of broken china and the meat where they lay on the floor, and gradually memory of his cruel act returned.

He knew she would not reproach him; she was too gentle and timid to do that, but he could not stay and see her sad, grieved face, and how could he tell her that he had lost his position? The firm, seeing they could not depend on him, had at last secured a steady man in his place; and when he received his pay the day before told him his services were no longer required.

He had just two dollars left, but, instead of giving them to his wife, he put on his hat and coat, and, going out very softly, was soon on the way to the tavern.

Soon after he left, Mrs. Wright awoke, and getting up very quietly, dressed.

She was not surprised to find her husband gone, for he had often done that before.

With a very sad heart she built the fire and prepared her simple breakfast of tea and bread.

Then quickly clearing away the broken platter; and washing the grease off the floor, she arranged the rooms as neatly as possible and sat down to sew.

Her hand was swollen and very painful, but as it was the left hand it did not prevent her from sewing.

Oh ! how discouraged and unhappy she was this morning. Would there never be a change? Must she suffer on in silence like this forever?

Soon baby Russell awoke and, crying, woke Ethel and Harry.

Laying aside her work, Mrs. Wright washed and dressed the children, and gave them their breakfast, then telling Ethel to amuse her little brothers, resumed her sewing.

Mrs. Wright often asked herself what she would have done without Ethel.

Although only four years old, she had the entire care of her little brothers, leaving her mother free to sew.

On pleasant days, after having put baby to sleep, she could be seen walking up and down the block with Harry grasped firmly by the hand. Great was her distress and anxiety when the wilful boy broke away and ran into the street. Hastily bringing him back, under threat of taking him home, they would resume their walk.

Harry was a very affectionate child and dearly loved his mother, and always seemed so sorry when he saw the grieved look on her face after one of his childish outbursts of temper, that she always forgave him freely.

Baby had been placed on the couch, and the other children were playing on the floor, when there came a knock at the door.

Ethel opened the door and in a moment was lifted high in the air, as a cheerful voice called out “Hello ! Sis.”

With a cry of joy, Mrs. Wright was clasped in the arms of her brother Ralph.

It was indeed a pleasant surprise. For soon after her marriage, he had married and moved to New York, and she had not seen him since.

Ralph was the oldest of the Smith family, and Marie had always been his pet. It was to Ralph that Marie had always carried all her childish troubles, and no matter how busy he was, he always found time to listen to his little sister and comfort her.

All of the Smith family were married and settled in homes of their own, but Marie and Elmer, her youngest brother, were the only ones living in Hazelroth.

Ralph was greatly shocked to see the change in his sister. From a bright, jolly girl she had changed to a sad, quiet woman.

All about him were signs of want. Her home, although neat and clean, was very poor looking; and her clothes were thin and shabby, although neatly mended and clean.

“Where is Harold?” he inquired.

Mrs. Wright turned pale as she answered quietly. “He went out.”

“He went out!” Ralph repeated; “isn’t he working?”

Seeing his sister did not want to answer him, and knowing that something was wrong, he took her in his arms, and imploringly said : “Now, dear little sister, I know there is something wrong. Won’t you tell brother as you used to? You are sadly changed, my darling; come, tell me, perhaps I can help you.”

This was too much for Mrs. Wright, and, breaking down, she wept bitterly, as she told him the whole story.

Great was his anger, and he swore he would punish her husband.

“No, Ralph, you must not. Promise me that you will not say anything to Harold,” she pleaded, in alarm.

“But do you think I am going to let him kill you inch by inch? No! Come home with me. My wife will be a good sister to you, and I am sure you and the children will be happy in my home.”

“No, Ralph, I appreciate your kindness, but my place is here by my husband.”

“But see how he is abusing you, Marie! Can it be that you still love that scoundrel?”

A blush spread over her face as she answered: “Yes, Ralph, I do, and I feel that he will come to his senses some day, and we will be happy. Besides you know, brother, ‘What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder,’ ” and she went on to plead for her husband.

“Well, sis, I am going to have a talk with him anyway; that can’t do any harm, and it may do a lot of good.”

“I am going out to find him now,” and taking his hat he went out. It was not necessary to ask where he would find him, for he knew from what his sister had told him that the tavern was more to her husband than wife, children and home.

It was about an hour later when a sobered and penitent man climbed the stairs to his home.

We will not stop to tell what passed between Harold Wright and Ralph Smith, but Ralph did not spare his brother-in-law, and he told him some things which surprised and frightened him, and it was with quick steps that he started for home.

Reaching the door at last he found it locked. A nameless fear stole over him. Had his wife taken the children and fled?

He grasped the banister for support, for the thought made him sick and dizzy.

For, under all his cruelty and abuse, there was still love for his wronged wife.

Just then he heard the children talking in the kitchen.

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Never before had the sound of their voices sounded so sweetly in his ears.

Knocking at the door (which opened into the dining-room) he heard little feet leave the kitchen and cautiously approach, while Ethel called out bravely: “Who’s there?”

“It’s papa,” he answered in a kinder tone than they had ever heard before from him.

In an instant the door was opened, but his quick glance told him that his wife was not there.

“Where is mamma?” he inquired.

“Mamma done way wif big bundle,” answered Harry.

“Mamma gone away with big bundle,” he repeated, while the beads of perspiration started on his brow, as the thought struck him that his wife had deserted the children and him.

Just then her familiar step was heard, and the next minute she entered the room.

“Marie!” he cried.

“Harold!” she answered, startled.

There was a change in his face she could not understand. He looked so pleadingly and lovingly at her, it carried her back to the day he asked her to be his wife.

Sinking into a chair he covered his face with his hands and groaned aloud.

In an instant she was beside him, all her suffering forgotten as she wound her arms around his neck and gently asked :

“Harold, dear, what is the matter?”

The children looked on in wonder, but at a word from their mother returned to their play in the kitchen.

“Oh ! Marie, I thought you had left us,” he sobbed.

“No, Harold. I finished the work I was doing for Mrs. Mack and took it to her.”

Looking up into her face he cried: “I have been a brute, but if you will forgive me, dear, I will do better. Oh! why did my mother tempt me with wine? She saw no harm in having it on the table; but see what it has made of me! Marie, do you think you could learn to love me again?”

“Love you! Oh, my dear husband; I have never ceased to love you.” With a cry of joy he clasped her in his arms and kissed her.

“Marie, I have lost my position, but Ralph told me that his firm was looking for a machinist, and he will advance us the money to move to New York. Will you move to New York with me, dear?”

“I do not like the idea of borrowing the money of Ralph,” she murmured, for all her poverty had not quenched her pride.

“I don’t either, Marie, but it seems the only way. I feel as if I could do better if I got away from my old haunts and companions.”

“Then I will gladly consent. But when do we go?”

“Ralph is going home day after to-morrow and I will go with him, and secure a position and also a flat.”

Mrs. Wright did not ask him what her brother said to him. It was not necessary, for Ralph had proved that his talk had done no harm but much good.

They were a very happy family that day, but Mrs. Wright did not forget to thank her Heavenly Father for leading them from darkness into light.

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Chapter III

“in the world ye shall have tribulations.” — JOHN XVI, 33.

Early the next morning Mrs. Wright was awakened by hearing Harry calling, “Mamma!” and sobbing as if in pain or fright.

Thinking he had been dreaming and was frightened she hastened to him, fearing he would awake his sister.

“Hush ! Harry, mamma is here,” she softly whispered. “What is the matter? Did you dream naughty things and get frightened?”

“No, mamma, Harry so sick; it hurts Harry so.”

“What hurts you darling, show mamma ?” she asked in alarm.

“Here!” he answered, pointing to his throat; “and Harry is so warm! Harry wants a drink.”

Oh! how hot his little hands were and how flushed his face. In alarm she called her husband.

“Harold! Harold, come, get up quick, I think Harry is sick and you had better go for the doctor.”

“Harry sick?” he answered, in a sleepy voice. “Give him some nitre; I guess it’s only a little fever,” and he went to sleep again.

“No, Harold,” she answered, shaking him. “He is burning with fever and complains of his throat. He has not been feeling well the last few days, but I thought it was only a little cold. I really think you had better get the doctor.”

Reluctantly leaving his warm bed, Mr. Wright dressed, but one glance at Harry filled him with alarm, for even his inexperienced eyes told him that he was a very sick child.

Running almost all the way, he soon reached the doctor’s home.

The doctor had been out to a very trying case almost all night; and utterly weary was sleeping soundly, therefore it took fully five minutes to arouse him, but upon hearing of the case he quickly accompanied Mr. Wright to his home.

His face was very grave as he examined the child with great care. Then working over him silently for some time he succeeded in soothing him somewhat. At last, turning to the anxious parents, he asked :

“How long has this child been sick?”

Mrs. Wright explained that she did not know that he was sick, although he had acted queerly the last few days, but she thought it was only a cold and had given him home remedies.

“Well!” he explained, bluntly, “your child has diphtheria, and the sooner you get the other children out of the house the better it will be for them.”

Mrs. Wright turned pale, and would have fallen had she not grasped a chair for support.

It was not necessary to tell her that her darling boy was dangerously ill, for the word, diphtheria, told it too plainly. In those days anti-toxin had not been heard of, and diphtheria was indeed a cruel enemy.

“But Ethel and Russell ! Do you think they will escape it?” she gasped.

“Now, don’t be alarmed,” the doctor answered kindly, seeing her distressed face, “we can’t have you sick also. You must brace up, for on your care depends the life of your child. As for the other two, I think if they were removed at once, they might escape.”

“But, doctor, have you any hope for Harry?” Mr. Wright anxiously inquired.

“Yes,” he answered, “I think you called me just in time; and I think I can get the upper hand of it. I will stop in again this noon; in the mean time you follow the directions I will leave. I presume you will take the children to your mother?” he said, turning to Mrs, Wright whom he had known all her life, and helped through the mumps, measles, and croup when she was a child; and heavier illness after she had grown up.

“Yes,” she answered, “it is the only place I have to send them.”

“Well, you get them ready, and, as I have to go by there, I will take them there for you.”

Then, leaving the medicine and directions, he departed.

All that day they worked over Harry; and the next day the doctor pronounced an improvement, and said that if nothing further set in before night, the danger would be over.

Mr. Wright did not go away that day, as he had planned to do; but he intended to go as soon as his son was out of danger. He stayed home, helping his wife nurse their sick child, although the awful desire for liquor was so strong at times that he felt as if he would die if he did not get just one drink.

On the morning of the third day the doctor told them that the danger was past, and Harry would live.

“Now, Mr. Wright,” he said, cheerfully, “if you want to go to the city you can go. Your little son is doing finely, and in about a week we will have him playing about as usual.”

“Doctor, do you think I can have Ethel back again?” Mrs. Wright inquired. “You see Harry does not want me to leave him a minute, and Ethel is quite a help and comfort to me.”

“Oh ! yes, you can have the little girl ; but I advise you to leave the baby where he is a little longer, as you have enough to keep you busy just now,” he answered.

So Ethel came home and Mr. Wright went to the city in search of employment, promising to let his wife know at once of his success.

Harry seemed delighted to have his sister back again, and seemed much better that day, although he was very weak.

About eight o’clock that evening he went to sleep, and after putting Ethel to bed, Mrs. Wright with a heart full of thanksgiving turned to her Bible. Blessed book! How many times it had brought joy and comfort when she was bowed down with sorrow.

About midnight Harry awoke and feebly said :

“Mamma! please take Harry in your bed.”

“Harry is in mamma’s bed,” she answered, while her heart almost stood still with fear. There was. a decided change in her boy.

“No, mamma! Dis bed so little. Please take Harry in your bed, and hold Harry tight. Harry so ’fraid.”

Clasping her child in her arms, she groaned aloud. Oh ! if only the doctor would come ! But she could not leave her darling boy while she went for him; she saw that he was sinking fast.

Just then he spoke again:

“Sister! Mamma, where is sister? Harry wants sister !” Quickly calling Ethel she told the child her brother was worse, and bade her put on her shoes and stockings, and wrap a large shawl about her.

“Is Harry mamma’s boy?” he softly asked.

“Yes, darling,” she replied, kissing him passionately.

“Sister’s boy, too?” he continued.

“Yes, brother,” Ethel answered.

A sweet smile lit up his face.

“Tell papa to tiss ” he whispered, but got no fur-

ther; his soul had fled.

With a cry the bereaved mother sank on her knees; and heart-rending was the petition sent to the throne on high, as she begged for strength to bear this burden and be able to say : “Thy will, not mine, O Lord, be done.”

She was aroused at last by hearing Ethel say : “Mamma, is Harry sleeping? Why are you crying?”

“Darling,” she answered, “Harry is sleeping, but will never wake up here again. He has gone to join the angels.”

Then she suddenly realized that she must get help. But whom could she get? None of her friends lived near, and she was all alone in the house, as the Simon family had gone out early in the evening and had not yet returned. Her mother lived half a mile away; but Oh, how she longed for her. It was a very dark, lonesome road, but she decided she would go and get her. But what would she do with Ethel? She could not take her.

“Ethel, will you be afraid to stay alone while mamma goes for grandma?”

“No, mamma,” Ethel answered, bravely.

So, laying Ethel on the couch and covering her with blankets, she left her.

Throwing the shawl Ethel had worn over her head, she soon reached the street.

Sobbing bitterly she started to run. Oh, how dark and quiet the streets were; she had never been out at midnight alone before. On, on, she ran, stumbling, crying and praying.

Suddenly a dog rushed out of a yard and barking furiously ran after her. Stopping and speaking gently to him, she succeeded in driving him home. But it seemed as if there was a dog in every house she passed, and every minute she had to stop and chase them back.