The Kenosha telegraph and tribune. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1859-1860, 1859-09-01

4
my belief they'll kill him--so there, I've said
| T." .s.
| Rachel assumed daring attitude, as though
she had chanted the Marsellaise under the
Tuilenes windows-and more. had fully intend
ed it for the ear of the master within
| Then the child has breakfasts as no dog
what respected itself would so much as look at
and for his dinners-why, they make my heart
break to see his poor little teeth tusseling with
'em"
| Rachel looked tenderly upon the sleeping
boy, drew the coarse rugs lsaying g Here's
| Kings to cover child,') about his limbs, and
kissed him.
| Surely, Gussy's mother is looking down upon
you, gentle, uncouth Rachel. Looking down
and hoping that you see her; and that you will
still, again and again, kiss Gussy for her. Slave
at ten pounds per annum, we believe that, as
you say, you would not stop another hour under
Mr.. Marbel's roof if it were net for Gussy
But then-we trust you know and feel it-how
sweet it is of an evening to come into this empty
room, and know that as you watch this little
sleeper and cover his bruised and hardened feet,
somebody far above this garnet is watching you
and thanking you. Not that this goodness of
| yours seeks reward but there must be comfort
| in the faith that you are doing double good
here in your humble way-to Gussy, and to
| Gussy's mother. We were by, good Rachel
| though you US not, when those big, red
hands of yours drew, with tenderness of he ar,
that made them light as any lady's, the thorns
from poor Gussy's feet, But there will be thorns
in them tomorrow, and again the day after, till
the flesh is hardened, and can resist them. As
Gussys soul is to harden, as Gussy's muscles
are to harden.
| We call Gussy to mind years after we glanced
into his dreary bedroom; after Rachel had beer
discharged for giving slice of bread and sugar
to her little master; after the neigEborhood in
which Mr.. Marbell lived rung with shouts of in
dignation against Gussy's father.
| Mr.. Marbell had retired from business at
length i'll order to devote all his energies to the
hardening of Gussy That he might superin-
t-nd the icy GOODNESS of his nursery; the scan
tiness of his bed-covering; the plainness of his
food; his isolation from other boys. Day after
ID
throat open, and his hair cropped close to his
skull, passed our gate, walking, or rather am.
bling, behind his father. We fail to call to mind
an occasion on which we saw father and son ex-
change a syllable. Mr.. Marbell, with solemn
expression, to which the brandishing of a sub,
stantial crab stick gave intensity of an I'M
pleasantly suggestive kind, walking rapidly
nj loaI
rental coat-tails, and never removing his eyes
! from them. ambled, as we have written, after
him. The throat of Gussy was milky white
still, the cheeks red as carnation. Old women
turned upon Mr.. Marbell as he passed, young
women turned upon Mr.. Marbell as he passed,
and spoke passionately-th nature of their wo-
manhood overbearing their sense of propriety
Nicknames Of most offensive import were show
cred upon Gussy's father. He was a child
killer he was /" Old Tombstone - he bore, sue
cessively, the name of every remarkable muir
derer known to the street folk about his neigh
borhood. He was hissed booted at, and greeted
with gymnastic arrangement of little boys
fingers, the thumb acting as fulcrum against
the little boys noses. But both Mr. Marbell
and Gussy passed through the fusillade, without
glancing to the right or LETT
We were standing at our gate one day. on a
glowing summer morning. There was a pale
heat film over the deep blue sky. The heat
struck US under the chin from the burning EARTH
We felt that we could not bear the situation
many minutes. Lazily, heat-oppressed. we
were about to turn from the dusty prospect with
out when Mr. Marbell walked past, a: his usual
pace, and Gussy was behind hm-still amblinp
his eye still fixed upon the parental coat-tails.
The blazing sun was scorching Gussy's uncov-
cred head, we were certain his lips were white,
and we thought the blood almost oozed through
these two red spots upon his cheeks We were
tempted to dash through the gate, and seize Mr.
Marbell by the collar, and take his hat and
boots off, and drag him to barber to have his
head shaved. But chow prudent we become at
five and thirty y we turned homeward, and left
Gussy to be scorched by the sun, and still, with
starting eyes, to follow the coat tails of his
father. .r.-.f s.F -
On the following day a sweet little friend of
ours, whose voice makes twenty again. whom
be, if we have our way, very few indeed to
praise-this little friend came tripping along to
the gravel walk from the gate to the house, and
trying to look over the mlgnionette box at
our open window, Cat which we were proving,
by statistics, that the ruin of Manchester was
only question of years, unless we built our
houses nat fer the future. and reared cotton
,,1,. 1.lo Al III
We dropped all our figures within, to look at
the neatest, most convincing little figure with.
out. as1.as e# nte ...
Mr.. Marbell had just passed, walking as fast
as ever, but little Gussy was not with him. To
work went the brains of both of u.s. We called
to mind, looking very seriously indeed at each
other, the dry lips and the hectic flush of yes
terday. The little figure had very grave head
upon it now. We watched anxiously on the
morrow on the third day more anxiously still.
On the third day Mr.. Marbell passed. walking
slower than usual. There was some heavy,
bulging object in his coat tail pocket--the very
coat tail upon which Gussy's eyes had been
fixed SO long. We jumped to the right conclu-
sion-the bullying objects were bottles of physic
for little Gussy.
Upon that straw paliasse in the empty room
lay Mr.. Marbell's little Spartan. Doctors
grave, pale faces were shaken over the thin
limbs, and watched the weird brilliancy of the
boy 8 eyes. He was hardened hard ened against
all the iron trials Mr.. Marbell had provided for
him in after days. Those little shoulders would
never overbear neighbor. The soul lying here,
still in bondage, was not, we know, steeled yet.
The outstretched arms of an invisible, dead mo-
ther were over this straw palliasse, and were
about to clasp little Gussy. Little Gussy, who