Tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1856, 1855-08-09

MY HUSBAND.

scarf. Well, there is no use in trying TO
drive him; I've settled that in my mind
But he can be coaxed--can't he though?
and from This time shan't know how to
manage him? Still there is no denying Mr.
Adams is Il strange man.
You see. it was this morning at breakfast
said to him, Henry, must have one of
those ten dollar scarfs at Stewards. They
are perfectly charming and will correspond
so nicely with my maroon velvet cloak
| want to go this morning and get one be-
fore they are gone.
Ten dollars don't grow on every bush,
Adeline; and just now times are pretty hard
you know he answered in dry careless
kind of a tone, which irrata,ed me greatly.
Beside that Il knew he could afford to GET
me the scarf just as well as not only per.
haps my manner of requesting it did not
quite suit his lcrdship.
Gentlemen who can afford to buy satin
vests at ten dollars piece, can have no mo-
tive but pcnuriousness for Directing to give
their wives as much as scarf | retorted,
glancing at the money which moment be-
fore. he had laid on my plate, requesting
me to procure one for him; he always trusts
me in these matters. spoke angrily. and
should have been sorry for 1t the next mo.
mcnt, if he had no: answered:
You will then charge it TO my pcnuri-
BUSINESS, | suppose, when | tell you that
you cannot have another ten dollars
We'll then | will take this and get
scarf. You can do without the vest this
fall, and | took up the bill and leittheroom.
for he did not answer me.
| need it; must have it, was my men.
tai observation, as l washed my tear-swol-
len eyes, and adjusted my hair for walk
on Broadway; but all the while there was
whispering at my heart don't do it. Go
and buy The vest for your husband at last
the inner voice triumphed. l went down
to the tailor's, bought the vest and brough:
it home.
Here it's, Henry; selected the color
thought would suit you the best. Isn't it
rich, | said as untolded the vestafterdin-
ner, for somehow my pride was all gone.
| had felt SO much happier since the scarf
had been given up.
He didnot answer me, but there was such
look of tenderness filling his dark eye as
his lips fell on my forehead, that it was as
much as | could do to keep from crying out
right.
But the cream Of the story is not told yet.
At night when he came home to tea, he
threw y little bundle in my lap. opened
it and there was the scarlet scarf, the very
one | set my heart on at Stewards yester-
day.
oh, Henry!' said, looking up and try
ing 10 thank him, but my lips trembled, and
the tears dashed over the evelashes; and he
drew my head to his heart and smoothed
down my curls, and murmured the old low
ing words in my car, while | cried, but my
tears were such sweet ones.
He is strange man, but he is a noble
one, too, only it seems a little hard to find
it out sometimes; and it seems to me that
my heart says it more earnestly to-night
than it ever did before, God bless him.
-N
HopE- 81 hope on--hoped eycrl'-
Thus spoke one who had reached the peak
Of victory, Storm had come upon him;
shadows dragged their heavy skirts over
the hills and mountains Of his l:fe; cares
and sorrows dashed their burdens on his
shoulders; trials and vicissitudes assailed
him; but amid them all he kept his hope.
and now ere the middle watch was passed
the angels had set their seal upon him. and
dropped upon his brow the wreath OF tri-
umph. The gloom was gone forever; and
as he stood with his feet secure. the sun
shine from the Eden hills" fell around him,
and far out in the valley of the future he
saw her fadeless laurel trees" within
whose shade his evening days should ebb
away, softly and gently as dream OF Hea-
ven. Hope on, hope ever? This is true
philosophy. If life is chilled by passing
woe, or dimmed by care, hope is a song
bird in your heart breathing hymns contin-
ually. When Alexander. as he was about
to undertake his expedition against Persia
distributed the estates Of his crown among
his country men, was asked what he had
reserved for himself? He answered.
"Hope" So every soldier in LIES battle
field should reserve his hope, for it shall
lead him on, ne matter what opposes, to
fame and conquest.
EFT There are moments in the life OF
every contemplative being, when the heal
ing power oil nature is leil--e'eh aS WoTuS-
worth describes it--felt in the blood, in ev-
cry pulse along the veins. In such mo-
mcnts, converse, sympathy, the faces, the
presence Of the dearest, cone so near us,
they make US shrink; books. pictures, mu-
sic, anything, any object which has passed
through the medium of mind. and has been
in manner humanized. is felt as an intru-
sive reflection of the busy. weary, thought
worn self within us. Only Nature, speak
ing through no interpreter, gently steals
us out OF our humanity, giving us fore
taste of that more diffused. disemboded llfo
which may hereafter be ours. Beautiful
and genial, and not wholly untrue. were
the old supersliiions which placed haunt
ING divinity in every grove, and heard n
wing voice responsive in every murmurlng
stream.
THE DEAD HEAD SYsTEM.-Ihe BostoU
Heral! in a clever article on the railway
dead head system remarks: Editors do
not pass free over railroads, and they are
rot dead heads in any true sense Of the
word. They pay more for their railroad
fares than any other class Of people The
charge Of dead headsm ought to be revers-