Kenosha tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1855, 1855-03-15
NUMBER 80.


| MARCH is the Trumpeter among the
twelve. He sounds the rally and retreat
of Winters scattered and broken forces,
and grieyously do they SANDER, who say
there is no greatness in him. He has q
heart Of his own, that March, that despite
his buster, is as soft as an infants, and
enriched withsorrows ofits own We heard
him playing melancholy tone last night.
and signing in the hall, like one who
would not be comforted.' aois94
March scenes, in the eountry are quite
as full ofinterest and beauty as any in the
year. When one finds the tatters of Win
ter's once white garment lying here and
there, in shady valleys. on northern hills
in narrow, lanes, as in his hurry, he had
lost fragments of his WORKOUT wardrobe
as he fled, When the green mosses be-
gin to be seen again, and now and then an
early wild flower softly lifts broad brown
leaf under which it was hidden, and looks
out, as fair and delicate as new-made
bride. - s,o dramas
When thee fullof snow begins TO trickle
through the wicker-work 0fths birds nests
and the blue wings betokening the blue
skies. begin to fit through the waiting
woods, and the brook laughs at the grim
old locksmith. When the swamp minstrels
begin to rehearse, feebly and at intervals,
snatches of their old Homeric song Of
'Brekckek, ko-ax, ko-ax,' and the Robin
reconnoiters the homestead in the orchard.
and the little ground bird meekly sits upon
the broad and sunny doorstone. and jenny
creeps out at the open door upon the thresh-,
old. When the naples begin to REDEEM.
and the blue smoke to curl up above their
tops from the Sugar Camp, and the buckets
and troughs are in requisition. and the
wooden neck yoke, and the great kettles
And you were there years ago. when YOU
knew great deal less and hoped great
deal more than now. You were there, anil
SO were Mary and Susan and Kate. IL was
clear calm evening. The stars were out
and the young moon.
Beneath the great bubbling kettles, the
fires cracked and roared, and played with
the shadows that lodged behind the trees
and ran up among the branches, and lay
iii ambush behind the 'shanty, or at full
length beside some fallen monarch Of the
forest. jWH -
The girls sit in row upon a log, within
the circle of freight, and you are the mas
ter of ceremonies. With what interest the
progress of ebullition is watched. In the
patriarchal kettle, the newly gathered sap
grows fierce and furious--boilin2 wider
and faster, up the sides and over the edge
into the flames, while John cools its arGor
from barrel, tub and pail.
Its smaller neighbor however, is very
humble. Slowly and solemnly, and as if
with an effort, it bubbles and bubbles. The
trinkling sound has given place to a sort of
measured restlessness. Now and then. n
looped tw is thrust by some fair hand i'm
to the kettle, and when the little film, like
mirror made ofmica. that glazes and loops
can be waited away by breath, like a fairy
topsail in storm, it is declared done, and
the log is vacated in twinkling. One
darts away like wood-nymph tor pan
full of snow. Another bares pair Of
rounded wrists, and the musical laugh
and merry word make swee: music in the
woods. 20 sa1ot;f.. .r atr ..-
% Wasn't it a pretty picture as they stood
there, in the firightful light, amid the dim
old woods at night-those three Graces OF
the Sugar Bush? The reddeniug NAPLES
grow redder in the blaze-the quiet stars
look down through the tops Of the trees
you hear the wing of some startled bird as
it seeks another shelter--the tinkIing of a
bell comes softly through the night.
The naples have been felled - feed a.
hungry engine. Corn waved last Autumn
where the campfire blazed, and there is
apair ofsubsided pillows in distant grave
yard. - Chicago Journal. 'ee