What it is to be a Widow.

Cromwell Argus, Volume III, Issue 131, 14 May 1872, Page 7

What it is to be a Widow.

" I think it must be a jolly thing to be a young widow !" I heard this remark made the other day, in a group of laughing girls. 1 think I remember saying such a thing myself in my girlish times. Do you know, girls, what it is to be a widow ? It is to be ten times more open to comment and criticism than any demoiselle could possibly be. It is to have men gaze as you pass, first at your black drtss, and then at yo-.ir widow's cap, until your sensitive nerves quiver under the infliction. It is to have one il]- attired person say, " I wonder how long she will wait be "ore she marries again ?" and another, " until she gets a good chance, I suppose." It is now and then to meet the glance of real sympathy, generally from the poorest and humblest women you meet, and feel your eyes (ill at the token, so rare that it is, alas ! unlooked for. It is to have your dear, fashionable friends console you after this fashion ; "Oh, well ! it's a dreadful loss. We knew you'd feel it, dear." And in the next breath, " You will be sure to marry again, and your widow's cap is very becoming to you." But it is more than this to be a widow. It is to miss the strong arm you have leaned upon, the true faith that you knew could never fail you, though all the world might forsake you. It is to miss the dear voice j that uttered your name with a tenderness I that none other could give it. It is to hear i no more those well-known footsteps that you j flew so loving to meet. To see no more the face which to your adoring eyes seemed as j the face of the angels of God. To feel no I more the twining arms that folded you lov- ! ingly ; the dear eyes that, looking into your j own, said plainly, whatever it said to others, | yours was the fairest face earth held for him. j It is to fight with a mighty sorrow ns a man I lights with the waves that overwhelm him, i and to hold it at arm's length for a while, I only to have—in the hours of loneliness and I weakness—the torrents roll over you, while ; —poor storm-driven dove—you c;m see no | haven."— X. Y. H nnc Journal.

Astonishing Owve of a ver\' bad log of thirty | years' standing by Hollowaifs Pi/Is and Ointment.—The wife of Mr Bonnie, of Stock* I ton-on-Tees, suffered for thirty years with a i dreadful had leg, apparently originating by the j bursting of a vein internnllv. The most emi- | nent medical men in the neighbourhood tried to ; cure it, but in vain. She was eventually in- ) duced to try Hollo way's Pills and Ointment, and to the astonishment of every one who knew her, the leg in the course of eight weeks was tho« roughly healed, and has remained suund and free f;om pain ever since.