The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-01-10

~ thick to keep out the cold and throw off the
| rest
1t is some amusement to escape out of nj,
dungeon for little while and yet, what d,
see is very sad The inequalities of the ground
around US are scarcely distingushable I'll,
whole landscape is most forlorn. The earth i,
white, the sky is black. / have read at schoo
the narrative of voyagers in the Icy Sea anG
the Polar regions; fancy we must be trans
ported there. But since those wretched travel
ers, who suffered so much with cold ard in
Cured such great dangers, have sometimes re.
turned to their native land, hope that we also
shall see my father and our village again.
! We are not deprived ofevery comfort in our
sequesteted habitation. We have found NOR
hay and straw than Blanchette would consume
in a whole twelvemontb for food and bedding.
If she continues to yield us milk, we have in
her a valuable resource. But an accident might
deprive US of her. and we were very glad to
hnd IN corner of the stable, a small stock OF
potatoes. We have begun to cover them with
straw, to protect them from the frost. NY fa-
ther hadSpacked the woodstock also in the sta
BILE; but there is not enough to carry us thro'
long winter. We did right, therefore in think,
ing of closing the trap at the times when we
have no urgent need of fire as we have reason
to fear that our fuel may run short, it is good
thing to be able to kel p out the cold Forum
tiers US. am surprised that we feel the cold
so little, buried up as we are "That is why. >
my father observed, ''the young wheat % is
through the winter so we'll" We will do the
same. We will lie snug and close all winter,
and i'll the spring we will put our heads cut of
the window. But what weaIisome time we
have to get through till then; and God grant
that that may be all we have to suffer!
To make up for wood we have heap of fir
cones, which partly collected my self, to burn
at the village. 1t is mere chance they were
not taken there. And in short, if we are driv-
en- to it, we shall not hesitate TO burn the hay
racks and the managers in the stable When it
becomes question of life and death, we must
not look too closely at trIfles we shall be act
ing like the navigators who cast their cargoes
into the sea.
Our eople had partly unfinished the cha
let. What we regret the least is the great Gals
dron for making cheese. They have left us a
few necessary kitchen utensils and besides, a
Ratchet all Jagged at the edges, and saw which
will hardly cut. We have each of US a pocket
ife. Although our house keeping articles are
very incomplete, we shall manage to get on with
shese. We much more regret the provisions ;
ours are but scanty. What pity we could only
find three loaves, of the sort which are kept for
whole year in the mountain, and which are
obliged at last to be chopped up with a hatchet 4!
We also found plenty of SALT a small quantity
of ground coffee five bottles Of old white wine,
a little oil, and small stock Of pork larl.
We have only one bed, but we sleep at our
ease. According to our mountain custom, it is
big enough to hold five or six persons 1t stands
i'll the corner of our only living room, which is
also the kitchen left us ; if it is not enough, we
must make use of hay and straw Il only wish
that could do IS the marmots do. 'said !, ego
to sleep and remain torpid until the return of
spring.
NOrember 26. -Whlle examining the state OF
our furniture and our provisions, l have search
ed INTO every corner, to see if | could not find
some books. l knew that my father never
went up to the chalet without taking with him
Bible and several religious books, which he
read TO his workmen on Sundays, to supply in
in some degree the public service which they
attend i'll the village But, apparently, he ha1
sent his little library away.
We much regretted, i'll our solitary prison
not having ihis means of sustaining and con-
soling ourselves during our long watches. To
day, having noticed, behind the old oak ward
robe, a plank which somebody had stuck there
out of the way, l pulled it out, thinking that it
might serve some useful purpose With it there
fell down an Ole dusty book, which must have
been lost and forgotten for several years. 1t
" as Bible.
Nogcnlter 27.-Continu ally showing! IT is
rare to see so great quantity tall even at this
season of the year, and on the mountains. In
spite Of that, cannot get over my surprise at
my fathers not corsing to our assistance, nj r
can help expressing it.. Hitherto my grand
father has not allowed me to perceive his un-
easiness our conversation TO day has shown
that he is not less alarmed than myself.
''In fact" l said, ''this immense fall of snsw
did not come all at once. On the first, the Sec
ond, and even the third day of our captivity,
they might, one would think, have cleared a
path up to the chalet"
Il am certain said my granfather, "that
FRANCOIS has done all he could but perhaps he
could not get our friends and neighbors to share
his fears, and it was out of his power to rescue
us without assistance"
''Do you believe that, if it had been possible
to fetch u away, they would have left us here
at the risk Of finding us dead in The spring p
Can they be less humane than the persons Of
whom We read in the newspapers who make
the greatest exerions often at the peril of their
lives, to save some unfortunate fellow creature
who is buried in a mine, III digging we'll, or
under a vault which has fallen in ?"
II grant, my dear Louis, that our. position is
very sad; but after all, they know that We are
under shelter, and have some provisions"
We went Oh for some time in this strain
When my grandfather was silent, took lis
hands in mine, and said:
Hide nothing from me, entreat you. Tell
me, are you not quite as uneasy as am Speak
faankly. / am able to bow with resignation to
the will of God; therefore deserve your conf
dence. Acquaint me with your suppositions,
and do not lei me torment myself withsmy own
alone / had rather look misfortune full i'll the
face, and know what you really think.
''Weu, my poor boy, cannot deny that fear
Aa1,th hue hannnnoH 70 fat her NV
it has come to this, had better tell you so at
once. But, in short, hardly know what to think
il; because, in default of him, other persons
ught to have borne US in mind"
At this, could restrain my tears and sobs NJ
longer. My grandfather allowed me to give way
to my grief The fire went out as we sat before it.
We remained there in the dark till it was quite
late My grandfather kept one of my hands IN
his, pressing it from time to time.
- have told you my fears" he said, at last;
but do not forget l still have hopes. We can
not tell what unforeseen cause may have pre-
vented their coming. All may yet turn out
well. Put your trust in Providence.
December IL cannot conquer the terror
which SEXES me as l write this date. If some
of the November days appeared so long and
-wearisome, what will they be this month? At
least it would be bearable if we were sure this
were the last of our captivity. But dare no
longer Xix any term TO IT, ne snow Is hcaped
up to such height that it looks as if it would
take the whole summer long to melt it. 1t is
now on a level with the root; and if l did not
get up every day to clear the chimney, we
should soon be unable to open the trap or to
light fire.
E vexes me that my grandfather cannot some
times step out Of this eontind vault into the OPP
en- air. / asked him this morning what he
longvG for the most, and he said, A ray Of sun
shine Nevertheless he added, "our lot IS
much less wretched than that Of very many
prisoners, number of whom have not deserved
Imprisonment any more than we have. We
enjoy certain amount Of liberty in our seelu-
sion, and we find subjects OF amusement which
are not attafnable inside the four walls OF
dungeon; we are not visited every day by
cruel or even an indifferent jailer. The evils
which we suffer from the hand of God have
never the bitterness OF those which we believe
we may attribute the to injustice OF men, last
y NV how. we are not in solitary confn ement;
and # yonr presence here causes me to feel re.