Tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1856, 1855-09-20
From the National Magazine.
THE OUTCA ST.
BY ALICE CAREY.


(Concladed)
Monday morning it was still cloudy, and not
only So but snowing-a little fine icy snow, that
struck sharply like sand against Mrs. Gotorth's
small windows; for she lived i'll small house,
and the windows were not much longer than la
dy's pocket handkerchief. 1t was but cabin,
indeed, built of logs, very rudely; and humble
as it was and small As it was, Mrs. Gotorth wo'd
have thought herself rich to own it. Yet she did
not own the house, nor the meadow nor the wood
adjacent, nor much III all the world, except
heart that was large, and truthful, and loving
She did not complain, however, that she did not
own great house, and hundred or more acres
of lard, like most of her ncighborS; she was
cheerful, under the necessity of hiring small
lot, and milking her own COW, and feeding her
own chickens, and working good deal in the
garden. Now and then she procured few days
work on the farm, but for the most part she and
Elsy managed TO get along alone. And very
comfortably they did get along; no young wo-
man in the neighborhuod looked tdicr than the
widow daughter, and surely none was prettier;
in summer, no dress in all the church was whittier
than hers, and no hat was so nice and tasteful,
albeit il lacked the flowers and the rich ribbons
of some there. She was dreadtully giddy young
girl, to be sure, and her mother had often to re-
call her ewes to her hymnbook from a new dress
or shawl which for the first time had made its
appearance in n neighbnring pew perhaps some
| times from the fascination OF an admrlng glance
resting on herself; so the older and more staid
voung ladies' said, at least, though Eisy stoutly
denied it. She did not care whether the young
men saw her or not, she often sail, but that she
could not help seeing them when they were i'll the
! same house with her. And anybody who saw
/ her blue laughing ewes, would have readily be-
lieved she could not help it.
Jacob Hocom, for that was the name OF our
purposeless traveller, awohe to self-cOnsciousneSs
] rl,o,S tlln
! tinkling of the snow on the window-panes, per
haps with the remorseloss STRINGS of his own
mind, and the dreamy memory of face that look
| ed kindly upon him.
First. he saw the whitewashed ceiling above
him, and felt that he was not at home. III his own
chamber, which was large and substantial; and
as he sunk back on his pillow, his eye caught
the neat stitching in the pillow-case, he wonder
ed whose hand did it, and involuntarily linked il
! with one he had dreamed OF as lOosening some
thing that choked him, when he lay on very
cold hard bed somewhere he could not tell where
He coald not tell much better where he was
now that he was in the flesh he was sure, toi
/ his hands had the mark of an axe and the hoe
/ handle; but the room was new to him, and how
he came there passed all his recollection. Rails
ing himself on one elbow, he peeped curiously
about. pleased as a child with new baby house
The second thought was of his unfitness for th6
placc-all was neat-there was such an at
mosphere of purity about him-and the bed itsel
was so sweet and so white-what business had h
in it! There was mud on his face and his hair
that had come from some sorry restlng-place, o
which he had but a faint recollection now.
He could not do much in the way of persona
renovation; but all he could do, he did, brushing
his soed garments and hair, and drawing upol
his small bundle for such cleanly articles as j
contained This done, he felt quite at a loss
and looking out into the snow storm, half wishes
J = IL a r1la ankrx L.
was so unworthy.
| Mrs Goforth and Elsy had been an hour astir
! the cow was MIXED, the fire burning bright oil
the hearth, the table spread near it, and the col
fee sending up its pleasant steam with the smoke
when the tootsseps Of The unknown travsles 81