The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-01-03


Sweet Miriam works her snowy bread
Her hands are buisy-but her head
Is full of more ethereal things
And midst her working thus she sings:
SIN fitting dreams l foten roam. fr.
Altar from kindred ties and home,
To other ancient lands that sleep,
In beauty DER the boundless deep,
old Fneland's shores gladly tread,
and boa beside her amous dead,
Iialias skies and hills and streams.
Like phantoms, move through pleasant
Str alns
In elastic lands eacn scene mark,
Each stored stream, each river-hark"
Stars! what changing and screaming and clatter
Shes sadly afraid there's somethin gthe matter;
Perhaps Ned's beating Maude, or Franks pinch
ing Jenny.
Or that dignifed cat has scratched her poor Ben
ny,
"Why, Edwin, my boy, are you hurting your
sister,"
'Oh!no, mother, no. struck but missed her;
And now she must up and cry like baby
thought she pretended to be quite lady"
''What is it, dear Benny-you want some molas
ses7
My sakes! it's the hour for the French and Greek
classes at eh" e. .+-
MIR. b. will be home to dinner forlorn;
The roast is not baking-my dinner dress torn;
ALIAS what trials fall to woman's lot
sha IiuaS I,
10 deep corroding care a weary pray;
And soon her tried heart lives its day)
WHAT'S that you say, Bridget somebody knock
ing?'
Yes, mistress, this noise-St. Patrick tis shock
ing.
Not pin to be found from celIrr to garnet,
Confusion confounded, 1 cannot long bear it.
Why, dear Mrs Smith. how are YOU and the
weather,
Mr. c. and has brde-do they get on together?
! And Angeliue's mauied-I nevere'd a thought
white satin dress! wonder who bought it?
With Mr., Browns wife trulsy condole.
That husband of hers 81 a mean, patry soul!
But dear Mrs Smith, don't be in hurry,
m sorry you've found me in quite such furry
Good by, my dear friend-landl the meats burn
ing
The tea-kettle' dry the bread requires turning
Good Bridget was stesdily anchored in washing
and just in the midst of the general elashing
Little JOHNNY sang out, mother! yonder's Aunt
Percy
''Who, Johnny who, impossible! mercyP'
just then Bridget screamed, "the boilers leak.
Don't talk Mary Maude, when others are speak.
ing
III tell her my sorrows she'll surely condole,
Perhaps size may ecold, but I'll tell her the whole
What day IS it?-Satuaday. sure as live;
So much to be done; oh! for wings like dove
''Indu gent Aunt Percy, I'm SO glad you've come
Although you have come TO comfortless home;
Here it is, Saturday and cleaning and cooking
All the old clothes for tomorrow hat need over
looking.
And there is that rent in Benney's new jacket;
truly intended lost Tuesday to tack it,
But, had to finish piece for the paper
Last night until twoI burned the dim taper
And this morning began for IS magazine
Another productlon-the like never was seen!
My heart, my poor heart, 'tis weary and breaking
Thought, my dear aunt. L couldn't live without
speaking"
Aunt Percy heard all, with fearful compassion,
Then spoke to her niece with profound self posses
sion,
or duty and pleasure and their relative merit--
Ofplaces for all things and putting them into it.
Sweet Miriam heard and resolved to remembers
Heneeforward, her life was not all Decem
Der,
Of care and of toll but was freighted with pleas
ure,
And good Bridget deemed her mistress treasure
Good Biddy worked on, and her mistress worked
too,
Though mistress was ever a lit le bit blue,
And wandered anon in the bright world of seeming,
She first did her work and then did her dreaming.