But in all their world there was no one prouder of his laurels
and successes than his home-loving, little English wife, and the
mother-heart of her must be forgiven for welcoming each new honor
as a so much greater heritage for their children. Each distinction
won by her husband only established a higher standard for their
children to live up to. She prayed and hoped and prayed again that
they would all be worthy such a father, that they would never fall
short of his excellence. To this end she taught, labored for,
and loved them, and they, in turn, child-wise, responded to her
teaching, imitating her allegiance to their father, reflecting her
fealty, and duplicating her actions. So she molded these little
ones with the mother-hand that they felt through all their after
lives, which were but images of her own in all that concerned their
father.
* * * * *
The first great shadow that fell on this united little circle was
when George Mansion's mother quietly folded her "broadcloth" about
her shoulders for the last time, when the little old tobacco pipe
lay unfilled and unlighted, when the finely-beaded moccasins were
empty of the dear feet that had wandered so gently, so silently
into the Happy Hunting Grounds.
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