The Ladies' home journal (1948) (14763797554)

Identifier: ladieshomejourna65janwyet (find matches)
Title: The Ladies' home journal
Year: 1889 (1880s)
Authors: Wyeth, N. C. (Newell Convers), 1882-1945
Subjects: Women's periodicals Janice Bluestein Longone Culinary Archive
Publisher: Philadelphia : (s.n.)
Contributing Library: Internet Archive
Digitizing Sponsor: Internet Archive



Text Appearing Before Image:
ey Jean said, Its going tc AFTER a time she began to wonder why no one came upstairs to-L *- her. She had told them, when they came back from the funeral,that she wanted to be alone; but surely, alter a time, some one of thechildren should have come to her. They must know what it meant to bealone in this room from which Jim was gone forever. No, they could not know. They were too young. All they knew wasmating and begetting, and that was only the beginning of knowledge.This was their first loss, the loss of their father, and the grief was onlysemigrief, for they were out of the home now, absorbed in their ownlives, and their father had been ill so long that they could speak of hisdeath as a release for him. It had been a release. That was part of the bitterness: that Jim hadbecome so frail that death could he accepted as release. It had been aslow, hard way for her. conditioning her to the coming end, so that shewas not shocked now at the finality, but only deeply, unbearably sad. i !
Text Appearing After Image:
I on us and hard on her. Poor dear, well have to keep trying to bolster her up. She sat looking at the picture which had been on her bureau sincethey became engaged. A young, eager Jim looked at her, with uncloudedeyes and a wholly sweet smile. That Jim had been lost to her for a longtime, she mused, just as the smooth-skinned, bright-eyed young Ellenhad been lost to him; but the death of youth had been almost imper-ceptible, not leaving her alone, giving her another Jim, older, firmer,not so merry but wryly humorous, always considerate of her and ten-der, the cherishing husband, and then—and this imperceptibly, too,at first—that vigorous man was gone, replaced, through one illnessafter another, by a tired, sick man, older than his years. But even thenthere was the dear familiar body to care for, the touch and sound of Jimfor comfort. Now there was nothing. She could not cry any more. All the tears had been shed. Now therewere dry eyes, a leaden weight on the heart and a feeling o