Kenosha tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1855, 1855-05-24

We didn't have any dinner to-day. don't
know what we shall do, for mamma says
she hasn't any money, and can't get to
grandpa. He lives long ways OF, you
see.'
Mrs. Strong did not say another word,
She rose up quickly and went into the pan
try-a moment later she returned, carry
ing in one hand large bowl of bread and
milk, and in the other a plate OF cake.
Now, Willie, set right down here she
said, placing chair by the table, and eat
ill you can't eat another mouthful. Have
not had any dnner-poor child'
1t was pleasant scene where the dying
aybeamS looked in to see that beautiful
boy, as he turned from the table to Mrs.
Strong's face and said, while the large spoon
was poised awkwardly on his little red fin
gers
%, ma am, it tastes good. so good, and
[ was SO hungryP
We'll, then, Willie, don't stop to talk
about it, only eat-eat just as long as you
cam Mrs. Strong answered, with tears Of
genuine womanly sympathy gIistenng and
sparkling In their trayei down her cheeks.
Mamma will be So frightened If | stay
any longer said Willie at last, laying down
the spoon, for he had obeyed to the letter
Mrs Strong's repeated injuuetons. Please
ma'am, can't | go now, and take the pie,
too?'
Yes; and, Willie, l want you to tell
your mother that am coming over to see
her this evening
y low soft voice answeredto Mrs Strong $
knock. She opened the door and went in.
No wonder she started at the story Of utter
restitution the opening OF that door reveal
ed.
A tallow candle was burning on the ia
bic, and the light flowed over the pale brow
of the woman who lay on the bed in one cor
ner
Your boy said you were i'll, Mrs. Gregg
ry, said Mrs, Strong, advancing towardsth
bedside, and thought would just run
over and see if there was anything could
do for YOU
You are very Kind, ma'am. and the
words were broken BY quick 500, and the
woman placed her hands over her eyes,
and the tears trickled fast rs pril drops
through her small. slender fingers. 1T is
very foolish for me to give way in'this man
ner a. last murmured the invalid, recov-
ering herself, and giving her hand to Mrs.
Strong, but it is SO long since | have heard
any words of sympathy ,hat your kindness
makes quite a child OF me-
Her lady IKE rnauneF wrSu- -sErvns5lr
in contrast with her meagre surroundings,
that the quick, tender heart OF Mrs. Strong
was more touched than ever. 'ifyou were
only able 10 walk over TO my house,; said
she, 4 could fix you very comfortably; but
as you can't do that, | must make up fire
here and bring you over a cup Of tea; we
can talk afterwards, you know. she added,
anticipating the thanks OF the invalid; for
Mrs. Strong's benevolence always partook
more largely of a practical than a theorc,
cal character.
A little later, when a bright wood fire
was lifting its columns of ruddy flame up the
black mouth Of the chimney, and dropping
It's crimson glow on The bare walls and I'M
carpeted floor; Mrs. Gregory sat up on her
low couch, and, with her hand fastened in
Mrs. Strong's, she told briefly the story
which never before had crossed her lips,
Her father was wealthy widower, and
she had been the very light Of his eyes.
Her feet came up through LIES brightest
sunshine to her nineteenth summer, and
then very dark shadow dropped over the
sunshine. Mrs. Gregory's father was de-
sirous that she should wed friend of his,
Il millionaire, and a man OF thirty years her
senior. The young, fresh heart OF the girl
of nineteen shrank with terror from union
SO wholly antagonislic to her tastes aud feel
ngs. For the first time her father spoke
harshly to her: Ellen, it is useless 70 re-
bel against my authority. l have sworn
that you shall be his wife
And that night Ellen went out from her
fathers home and returned to 1.-THE wife of
her distant cousin, William Gregory, and
the doors were closed against her.
The newly made husband took his young
wife 20 southern city. He was poor, and
she had brought him none of her father
vast wealth but he obtained lucrative sit
uation in large me rcantile house, and FL
len Gregory forgot her early home in the
quiet bliss of the six years of her welded
life. Then all lis light went out very sud-
denly. In less than week her husband
sickened and died of fever, and his young,
ten lerly reared wife was left with her child,
without peeunlary resources, in a land of
strangers.
Afterthe burial of herhusband Mrs. Greg
DRY resolved toreturn toher father, of whom
she had heard nothing for several years.
A violent fever. induced by mental ag-
ony, brought her to tie brink of the grave
before she had completed her journey
She partially recovered, to find that her
small stock OF money would hardly defray
the expenses of her long illness. In the ex
element of the moment she resolved to
achieve the remainder efthe journey on foot
and had accomplished about twenty miles.
Hercourse had lain through L. Phys
ically and mentally exhausted, she learned,
at the tavern where she stopped. that there
was an old brown house in the suburbs to
rent. She had secured two roomsof this. and
for the last six week had managed to pro-
cure herself and her boy precarious sub
sistance by the sale of her clothing.