Samantha at the Worlds Fair | Page 5

kinder worked his way up, so I
found out, and so had Isabelle.
She had graduated from a Young Woman's College, taught school to
earn her money, and then went to school as long as that would last, and
then would set out and teach agin, and then go agin and then taught,
and then went.
She wuz younger than Christopher, but he owned up to me that it wuz
her example that had rousted him up to exert himself.
She wuz awful ambitious, Isabelle wuz. She wuz smart as she could be,
and had a feelin' that she wanted to be sunthin' in the World.
But then the old folks wuz took down sick and helpless, and one of the
children had to stay to home. And Isabelle staid, and sent Krit out into
the World.
She sold her jewels of Ambition and Happiness, and gin him the avails
of them.

She staid to home with the old folks--kinder peevish and fretful, Krit
said they wuz, too--and let him go a-sailin' out on the broad ocean of
life; she had trimmed her own sails in such hope, but had to curb 'em in
now and lower the topmast.
You have to reef your sails considerable when you are a-sailin' round in
a small bedroom between two beds of sickness (asthma and
inflammatory rheumatiz). You have to haul 'em in, and take down the
flyin' pennen of Hope and Asperation, and mount up the lamp of Duty
and Meekness for a figger-head, instead of the glowin' face of Proud
Endeavor.
[Illustration: Isabelle staid, and sent Krit out into the World.]
But them lamps give a dretful meller, soft light, when they are well
mounted up, and firm sot.
The light on 'em hain't to be compared to any other light on sea or on
shore. It wrops 'em round so serene and glowin' that walks in it. It rests
on their mild forwards in a sort of a halo that shines off on the hard
things of this life and makes 'em endurable, takes the edge kinder off of
the hardest, keenest sufferin's, and goes before 'em throwin' a light over
the deep waters that must be passed, and sort o' melts in and loses itself
in the ineffible radiance that streams out from acrost the other side.
It is a curious light and a beautiful one. Isabelle jest journeyed in its full
radiance.
Wall, Isabelle would do what she sot out to do, you could see that by
her face. Krit had brought her photograph with him--he thought his
eyes of her--and I liked her looks first rate.
It wuz a beautiful face, with more than beauty in it too. It wuz
inteligent and serene, with the serenity of the sweet soul within. And it
had a look deep down in the eyes, a sort of a shadow that is got by
passin' through the Valley of Sorrow.
I hearn afterwards what that look meant.

Isabelle had been engaged to a smart, well-meanin' chap, Tom Freeman
by name, not over and above rich, and one that had his own duties to
attend to. Two helpless aged ones, and two little nieces to took care on,
and nobody but himself to earn the money to do it with.
The little nieces' Pa had gone to California after his wife's death--and
hadn't been hearn from sence. The little children had been left with
their grandparents and Uncle Tom to stay till their Pa got back. And as
he didn't git back, of course they kept on a-stayin', and had to be took
care on. They wuz bright little creeters, and the very apples of their
eyes. But they cost money, and they cost love, and Tom had to give it,
for they lost what little property they had about this time--and the
feeble Grandma couldn't do much, and the Grandpa died not long after
the eppisode I am about to relate.
So it all devolved onto Tom. And Tom riz up to his duties nobly,
though it wuz with a sad heart, as wuz spozed, for Isabelle, when she
see what had come onto him to do, wouldn't hold him to his
engagement--she insisted on his bein' free.
I spoze she thought she wouldn't burden him with two more helpless
ones, and then mebby she thought the two spans wouldn't mate very
well. And most probable they would have been a pretty cross match. (I
mean, that is, a sort of a melancholy, down-sperited yoke, and if
anybody laughs at it, I would wish 'em to laugh in a sort of a mournful
way.)
Wall, Tom Freeman, after Isabelle sot him free, bein' partly mad and
partly heart-broken, as is the way of men who are deep in love, and
want their way,