Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1858-08-12

please 10 write letter TO my SchoOlmS
. tress, for me to come home ct two o.
clock, and go to Jenny Blacks party.
eyes, my dear, with pleasure" an
swered. "Shall write what you have
said?" .sAv A1eatsNH
90 no, no!'' cried Fanny, quickly
"Don't write about party, but just i
she will dismiss me at two o'clock"
"Aha!" [ exclaimed, in a playful
& manner, "Sha would refuse, then, if she
, knew the object" l
81 don't know" said Fanny, merrily
"but we never give the reason.'
''No?" replied, "She is great NC
| ly, cross old maid, and if you did - -
ooh, Mr.. Morgan! how can you?" ex
claimed Fanny. "She is the sweetes
little teacher in the city, and grea
: deal handsomer than that Miss Mitchell
you said was such q beauty"
"She is eh?' continued in the same
strain. ''Then / suppose I mnst write
her a very pretty note?"
'mdeed you must" said Fanny, ''fol
should be sorry to have it badly writ
ten" a1a a ha'
"Whatis her name?" Inquired, hold
ing my pen above the spot where it was
to be written.
''Miss Pembroke" --
AT the mention of this name, it seem
ed as if my heart would leap from my
breast. The pen fell from my hand, anc
| sank back into my chair, overwhelm
with emotions such as / can neither
name nor describe.
90, patience!'' exclaimed Fanny, in 9
tone of veXation, "what have you done:
Just look at that blot" But, lifting hei
eyes, she became suddenly alarmed al
the palor OF my countenance, and burst
into tears. "You are sick, Mr.. Morgan
[ will call mother"
"No, no, Fanny, darling!" I replied
recovering my composure as well as ]
could. Il have heart complaint, and
it affects me in this way sometimes. y
! Taking up my pen again, / continued:
"W hat is your teachers first name?'
II don't know" she replied, ''Moth-
er don't know. 1t will do if you write
it Miss Pembroke" Teo 5auI 5ls
And so it was written; but nv hand
trembled, and the penmanship, l re-
membered, bore a very noteworthy re-
semblance to the signature of the old
Quaker paralytic Of the independent
memory, the good Stephen Hopkins.
CHAPTER ".
AT first | concluded that Miss Penn
broke, the teacher, must be little Sallie.
the playmate of my infancy; so strong
was my desire to discover the latter on
one hand, and on the other to find her
the occupant of such respectable posi-.
ton. But afterwards, when came tx
reflect upon what Mr.. Whicher had said,
regarded the identity next to impossi-
BILE; for II her disgrace was greater than
l could imagine, as he asserted, she had
sunk far beneath the reach Of reclama-
ton. seH A. '-T
was on the point of dismissing the
subject from my thoughts, when it oc-
CURED to me that Mr.. Whicher might
have been actuated by some sinister mo-
tive. | thought Of the savage look he
gave me when Imade known the object
OF my visit, and of the shudder which
the name of Pembroke occasioned. But,
in opposition to these, / called to my
mind his subsequent behavior, which
had every appearance Of genuine dis
tress. ~
AT length, having concluded that the
teacher andplaymate. were not the same,
or that MI. Whicher was a. yillainous
| old hypocrite, resolved to call on Miss
Pembroke and settle my uncertainty.
Accordingly, the next evening walked
over to her residence, with little Fanny
to bear me company and insure an inter
view, and was politely and kindly re-
ceived. E.... f ,g,. ss.f -.
My remembrance of little Sallie hav-
ing the vapory indistinctness ola dream,
1 could not determine whether there
was any resemblance between her and
the teacher; but, from the moment | be-
held the latter, wished in my heart
they might prove the same, for she was
beautiful. ait 1d 9ni44 5n4 YES Fl
"Miss Pembroke," / began, under
some embarrassment, 81 trust you will
pardon the curiosity that induces my
visit, when lassure you that it is entire
ly free from impertinence." s
81 can readily believe YOU, sir.'' She
replied in such manner as to put me
at ease, ''since ] find you in company
with little Fanny, in whose intuitive
Judgment | have great confidence :
81 once knew family of your name, -
| continued, "ot which l thought YOU
might be amember."
Is '"Then it must have been a great
While ago." she answered thoughtfnlly.
| "Indeed, it was so long ago. I re-
piled, chat it seems impossible one so
youthful in appearance can have seen so
much time. 1t is nearly twenty years.
81 am twenty-three," she replied with
frankness I admired.
Little Sallie's age, | thought; but pro,
ceeded cautiously. ''The family to
which Iallude lived in the city of Bath. 2
Bath is the place of my birth,'' she
said, Ill the same manner. .a...,'.r
! "The head of that family [ continu-
ed, with mingling of hope and fear,
twas Samuel Pembroke
"de was my father" she answered,
but so much affected that her words
were scarcely audible. ea u4sd IA
sand you are little Sallie!n cried in
a joyful manner.
81 ami" she replied, looking up thro'
her tears with surprise. ',But is a long
while since / have been so called;
though ! am still, as you see, but very
little body, with all my years.'bt 5ia
"Cf course, you do not remember
me?" I said, drawing myself up that /
might appear to the best advantage.
She glanced at me, then at my card,
which she held in her hand, and shook
her head negatively. 1881
s'Did yeu never hear of little Willie
Morgan?" / inquired. org Aas