Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1850-1854, 1853-05-13
SPRING rs COMING.


Tiny blades of grass are struggling between
the city's payements. Fathers and husbands,
sighting look at the tempting shop windows,
dolefully counting the cost of a spring out
fit" Mufs, and boas, and tippets, are among
the things that gere, and shawls, and TAI
mas" and NANTES, and "lttie loyes of bon
nets" reign supreme, though maiden aunts
and sage mammas, still mutter-" East winds,
and choose the SUMMER side OF the sidewalk.
House keepers are making horrible but
necessary Babel, stripping up carpets, and di-
semboweling old closets, chests and cuboards.
Advertisements already appear in the news
papers, setting forth the superior advantages
Of this or that dog-day retreat. Mrs. Jones
drives Mr.. Jones distracted, at a regular hour
every evening, hammering about "change of
scene and air." and the sheath of the dear
children;" which, translated, means guam
tity of new bonnets and dresses, and trip to
Saratoga for herself and intimate FRIEND Miss
Hob-Nob while Jones takes his meals at
observation-disclosures in the deserted house, sews
on his missing buttons and dicky strings, and
spends his leisure time where Mrs. Jones don't
visit.
Spring as coming.
Handsome carriages roll past freighted with
lovely women, residents of other cities, for an
afternoon drive! Dash on ladies' You will
scarcely find the environs of Bottom surpassed
wherever you may hail from. A thousand
pleasant surprises await you; lovely wedding
paths and pretty cottages, and more ambitious
houses with groups OF statuary hidden amid
the foliage But forget not to visit our sweet
Mount Auburn. Hush the light laugh and
merry jest as the gray haired porter throws
wide the gate for your prancing horses to tread
the hallowed ground. The dark old pines
throw out their protecting arms above you,
and, in their dense shade, sleepy eyes are bright
forms as lovely as your own-while "the
mourners 90 about the streets. Rifle not,
with sacrilegious hand, the flowers which
bloom at the headstone-tread lightly over
the beloved Dust Each grave entombs blee-
ding living hearts; each has its history, which
eternity shall alone reveal to you.
Spring as coming.
The city belle looks as fresh as a new blown
rose-tossing her bright curls in triumph, at
her faultleSs costume and beautiful face. Her
lovers name is Legion-for she hath also goE-
den charms! Poor little butterfly bright,
but ephemeral! You were made for some
thing better. Shake the dust from your earth
stained feet and-soar! -
Spring as coming!
From the noisome lanes and alleys of the
teeming city, swarm little children, creeping
forth like insects to bask in Gods sunshine
SO free to all. Squallid, forsaken, neglect
ed, they are yet those to whom the Snless
said Suffer little children to come unto me-"
The disputed crust, the savage curse, the bru
tai blow, their only patrimony! Ones heart
aches to call THIS childhood! No "spring,"
no summer to them! Noisome sights, moi
some sounds, noisome odors and the leprosy
of sin following them like a curse. One longs
to fold to the warm heart those little forsa-
ken ones; to smooth those matted ringlets
to throw between them and sin the shield of
virtue-to teach their little lisping lips to say
" Orr Fdther."
Spring as coming.
Yes, its blue skies are over us-its soft
breezes shall fan us-the fragrance of its my
Rad flowers shall be waited to lis. Its mos
sy carpet shall be spread for our careless feet
our languid limbs shall be laved at its cool
fountains-its luscious fruits shall send health
through these leaping veins-while from
mountain top, and wooded hill, and flower
wreathed valley, shall float one glad anthem
Of praise from tiniest feathered Threats.
Dear reader! From that human heart of
thine shall no burst of grateful thanks arise
to Him who gipeh aNe Whilenature adores
shall MN be dumb God forbid
FANNY FERN.