Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-02-12
KENOsHA WIS, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY Il, 1852.

in short anything but the very angel
she was, Nannette's lite would have
seemed purer in the worlds eyes; but
not in Gods, / know that.
Nannette's history is an old story, told
every day. For shame, man, that it is
told every day. She lived, and loved,
and trusted, and that is all of it, or near
|ly.
One December night she came in the
snow to her fathers door, and he turned
her away-Nannette, the only thing in
all Gods world he loved with human
love. She did not weep, she did not
even murmur; she only pressed the hand
of child who walked YEARLY beside
her, and passed on.
Her life from that time was so full OF
suffering, yet so womanly and true, that
the angels might sit and listen to a nara
ton of it with delight. Nannette went
far away from the city, and, in little
town by the sedgy sea-shore; taught her
boy to pray ia3 afe
Year after year went by.
The world rolled on like great wheel;
men and women, and children dropped
off like flies, and Jedd Pallfry's hammer
was busy-oh, SO busy! Now, while
shrouds were being made, and collins
vanished, and the old world was turn
ing on its axis, Nannette died.
The night of her death, Just as old Jedd
was fitting the lining to an infants coffin,
a grave grew up at his feet--a willow
and rose-bush, and he heard the sing
ing of birds! He knew what it meant.
He knew that somewhere--he could not
tell where-there was another mound just
like the one beside him. Oh! how
blithely the little birds sang to Jedd.-
There were q new heaven and new
earth for somebody that night, and how
merrily the robins sang about it! All
this happened while thesnow-fakes were
running nimbly over the house tops, like
little white mice.
Every Christmas-eve, at the same hour
Jedd sees his phantom mound, with its
signing willow-tree, and its lovely flow
ers, and its fairy birds, fitting here and
there like the fragments OF broken rain
bow. And at night he has fearful
dream. He fancies that four fever-fiends
are tossing him in his best velvet pail.
Yellow Jack with his great jaundiced
visage; Brain-feycr, shouting deliriously;
Scarlet-fever, with red-hot eyes and pu-
trid lips and Typhoid, still and dread
ful--he sees them all; and they paw
him with their Disgusting hands, and kiss
him on the mouth till poor old Jedd is
near going mad with agony and fear.
Nannette's child was adopted by a
Ifsherman's wife, and very badly adop-
ted; for when poor Tom was not busy
catching fish, he was catching something
else. So,kbetween.. boating and beating,
the child was not as happy rs he might
have been with more of one and less of
the other, or genteel suificiency OF both.
Having INDUCED in fouryears experience
in being -whaled he took it into his head
to have a hand in the business himself.
"To be or not to be" was a question in
the boys mind, and ''not to be- beaten
any more was his decision; so, one fine
incoming, TsJtlopt ne, rauch as the cog
nizance of his beloved mother, Anphi-
trite, he placed his name on the books of
'the good ship Marie Theresa, and sailed
out ofport with light heart, one suit of
clothes, andaprospecto work, which
is all the "rigout" true sailor needs.
But Tom was too dclicately made for
a whaling voyage, and, after wasting three
years Of the golden part Of his life, he
found himselfin our great city one night,
without money, or friends, or place to
die in. He wandered from street to
street, so charmed with the mad wrang-
ling of sleigh-bells-a new music to him
and so dazzled by the shop-windows,
that he forgot his hunger, and the web
of difficulties which time a1d fate, the
busy monsters! were weaving for him.
But hunger, under such circumstances,
like renewed note, only spares one for
little while. 1t came back to him with
interest, his hunger, and he grew discon-
ISOLATE.
The city, with all its strange newness,
was forgotten in turn. The snow chilled
him, and the happy children buying toys
in the grand shops, and the merry sleighs
darling through the streets like swallows,
gave him an acute sense Of loneliness.
There were no mother and sisters to put
gay presents in has stockings. Indeed,
iftherc had been, they might have bought
a stocking too, for never a one had Tom
on those cold little feet!
Tom looked in at Maillard's window,
at the rare pastry and CONNECTIONS, and
his hunger grew maddening. Returned
from the heaped delicacies, fearing that
he might be tempted to thrust his arm
through the thick plate-glass, and help
himself. He turned away in gastronomic
agony, did Tomtit, and, hearing the chill
dren cry. ''Merry Christmas - wondered
what it was and where it could be!
Poor Tom, have been looking for it
these five years
Nantuck passed rapidly up Broadway,
and then to avoid the needless throng,
crossed over to the western part Of the
town. Fate led him; for fate deigns
even to shape the lives of such estrays
as Tomit.
Once he passed at bakers door and
looked so longingly at the waiter of fresh
tarts on the counter, that the shop-girl
gave him one, and her glossy curls shook
all over with delight at the ravenous way
he devoured it.
Poor fellow ~ said the girl SOLDERING,
she must have been fearfully hungry"
He was, ratherish, and he annihilated
two tarts with enthusiasm.
As he turned out of one of the cross
streets which led him into Sixth Avenue
he beheld an old man looking in an I'M