The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1860-08-30
Wy Daughter Minnie.

A few years ago-well, it is not less
than forty-my little home-focl1 was
led, in the matter Of years, by my
doughter Minnie-a pretty name, l al
ways thought. Minnie was q good
child, and being the first. born, was half
maternal in her management Of the lit
down to little ''PigeoH,' y
the latest and finest of all.
The picture OF Minnie is Just as fresh
in my memory as though the forty
years which have simmered and evap,
grated since, had been weeks instead.
But it is fathers eye chat looks over
these years at Minnie, and the beauty
may be half fancy-a sort of effectional
illusion. Those we love are transpar-
ent, you know-we who love them look
through into the heart, and then mag
inc it is surface.tinJ and surface light
of which we are thinking.
This much I know, Minnie was the
best, most afectionate, and widest of
daughters--one Of those spirited but
industrious little creatures upon whose
enterprise and tact the greatest and
strongest Of us viii involuntarily lean.
"Minnie, shall I want five 0r six
breadths in this skirt" her mother
would say.
Looking up, with just a little knit
ting of the forehead, after moments
thought Minnie would answer:
81 think five will do mother" and
five it was.
I can hear, even now, the voice Of
Minnio's mother-sho has been gone
twenty years, dear heartl Ealing from
the head Of the stairs:
"Minnie! Say Minnio!'
"What, mother?"
'What shall we have for dinner to-
day."
"You are tired mother; let's have a
little ham and some eggs, with some
peas from the garden, and bread
That settled the bill OF fare.
And so it was through the livelong
day, for in all the domestic polity Min
ME, thong only prime minister, possess
ed legal power.
At this time-this forty years ago
/ was, of course, in the prime of life,
and full of the cares and responsible
ties which cluster and cling to one's
manhood.
| was largely engaged in active bust
ness, received some slight evidence of
public confidence saw large family
coming up about me--from all of which
my natural positiveness and force of
received more or less strength
ening
One night, when the last candle had
been extinguished and all was hushed,
my wife said, with some anxiety of
tone.
Husband, I feel uneasy about our
Minnie"
minnie? Why, what is the matter
is she sick?"
emo, she isn't sick, but
"But what, wife?"
''Why, Minnia isl mean, she seems
to be-W ell, I'm fraid she likes Jenny
Burn"
Jenny Brun! She'd better not
And l leaped to the floor and walked
to the window. "Jemmy Brun an6
our Minnie--a pretty match!''
81 was AFRAID you would be disturb
ed dear; but don't take it so much tC
heart husband. | dare say we can put
a stop to it." And motherly sobs came
from the pillow.
'Put a stop to it! I guess I will
Jenny Brun and our B[innie!-l
guess | 10W put a stop to it"
And who was Jenny Brun? A
young man of some two years. resi-
dence in the neighborhood, of good
habits as far as knew, but altogether
and dismetrically opposed to my taste
to my ideal of manIiness. Ihad al
ways worshiped business tact and en-,
terprise.
1t had taken me, when a penniless
boy, and brought me up through mum
berless difficulties to a position of in
duence. That which was found in my
nature when young, was thus nourished
and rooted through all the after years
of struggle repining into triumph.
The young man was of a literary
turn of mind;had taught in an academy
was writer it was said, for one or two
periodicals. There was an air of sen.
timant about him, in his looks and man,
ners, which came precisely within the
scope ofmy contempt had nknow il
in Others-in strong busidess men
this utter contempt for the least posi-
bic manifestations of sentiment, fol
those unthrifty fellows who have never
an eye for business, but hang upon the
skirts OF thought, CLASSY imagery, and
ride upon rythm.-You may see it now
every day in commercial houses. L
springs, think, from the absolute an
tagonism Of fact and fancy-of the flo
.ures which dot the pages of the LEDGE
and those which illumine the lines O
the poet. "The MUSES. frowned OF
me-" said q German poet, '.for keeping
account books" Undoubtedly. No,
is the knight of the balance sheet les
intolerate towards those miserable fel
lows whose entire stock in trade can b,
stored within a very little cavity jns