The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-11-21

% IAOAS, lOI SIG uuueTStOUQ SOhAA'Se
= ing emotions, Taking my arm she came dowr
e stairs with me, strangely excited knew by the
J trembling of the hand that rested on my arm
|, would willingly have spared her the pain, the
l humiliation, she must experience, but l coulo
s. not do without her. We had changed positions
: My reason yielded involuntarily to her warm
/ heart. We spoke but in monosyllables during
/ our long ride.
}, When We reached within street of our des
J. tination dismissed the carriage, and we walk
,. ed down the now almost deserted street, which
n no longer derived even semblance of cheer
t fulness from the lighted shop windows. l could
feel how tightly Ada's arm grasped mine as we
turned down the narrow court, which scarce at
forded passage for two. l took her hand as we
assembled the stairs, cautioning her to silence.
t Very slowly was our ascent made, for Ada, I'M
l nerved already, and unaccustomed to such
4 scenes, fell almost every step. At length we
D reached the head of the stair. The door was
d aiar as before, but the fire had burned down,
and, dark, and Notwithstanding, scarce re-
vealed the slight figure crouching still over it
! She moved not, though she must have heard
the steps ascending.
But now was afraid l had asked too much
of my child. Excited and trembling, she leaned
heavily upon me, and she whispered, i cannot
, 60 in, papa l saw she could not realize that
dropping, attenuated, Notwithstanding creature
could be her mother, aud she shrank from the
} recognition. Again she whispered, 1t is MT
1t can't be her! But just then, as | hestated
between returning and going forward myself,
she rose with the shawl still in her hands. which
d she again pressed to her lips, and going to a
small box that stood in corner, united what
seemed to be bundle of rags, An ember blaz-
ing up for few moments revealed to US its
contents. A doll and bunch of corals were al
Iternately pressed to the thin, faded lips. l re-
L.. ,Lax, ~, At1aao
our child. Ada, too, recognized them. A small
gold locket, which had given her after our
marriage, containing my likeness, was pressed
again and again to her lips, while we could hear
the low voice murmuring, God bless them, my
husband and my child. Ada gently withdrew
her hand from my arm, and, stepping forward,
gently knocked. A cloth was thrown over the
carefully preserved mementoes, and then her
voice babe her daughter come in
My mother = was all Ada said,a she sprung
! forward but it was enough. In moment they
were locked in each others arms. Bewildered
at the unexpected entrance, the woman raised
| the face that lay on her breast, sobbing con-
vulsively, and gazed into it. 1T is my child
she at length said, satisfied it was no dream, but
a reality.
| There are scenes which the pen feels itself
powerless to describe. This was one. Freely
from my heart l granted Minna the forgiveness
| SHe kI0lb To assn iOI LilS great miOhS SuC Ilod
done. That night had seen more clearly than
| | had ever done where had been to blame.
had loved my wife passionately, but that was
vailed under calm, cold exterior. What her
temptations had been [ knew not-asked not;
only asked if he, the destroyer of my peace,
was yet alive.
He had died ere a year had passed from the
time she left me killed in a gambling quarrel
died bitterly repenting the great wrong he had
| Ikl.O 1,pI nF
my heart. l felt thankful that had not yield
ed to the first wild promptings of revenge. l
felt soIemnly the power Of him whom i'll my
pride and rebellion had rejected. Vengeance
is mine, will repay, saith the Lord. He had
died in disgraceful brawl in the noon of his
days, in foreign land, the victim Of deep re-
morse, consigned to dishOnored grave, nnwept
save perchance by the woman he had so foully
wrouged.
And YOU 1 asked, > what did you do 2
Il sewed for my daily bread washed ,ironed,
did anything could find to do for ten long years
depriving myself latterly of the necessaries OF
lite that | might save enough to bring me back
to my native land once more to die. | wanted,
unseen, to look on your face once more, and
did so many time, when you did not know.
have longed to clasp my daughter to my arms,
but my sin stood before me- an impossible bar
rier. l have longed to thro myself at your
could die then in peace, but you looked so stern,
unrelenting, | dared not, when | knew that 1t
was | that had brought that expression to your
face. l supported myself by sewing for the
shop, and managed to live but have been
sick for month, and reduced to the last ex-
tremity, and here none can help another. To-
night carried back some work had finished, |
hoping TO get for it sufficient to buy re NOR
sci of food. l had tasted none to-day. Ny
Ion As ha6 haan walk au1 tramhlinp and the
work would not do. 1t was sent back with me.
In desperation, unable to bide the cold and hun-
ger up here, / wandered up and down the streets,
not caring whittier went, till had reached, !
without noticing, your door leaned against
the ratings unable to Danish the cravings of
hunger. l saw light and warmth inside, and,
regardless ofeverything but the longing for food
and shelter, | commenced to sing Annie Lau
RE. You had often praised my skill in singing
it, When l saw at whose house l had asked
for food and shelter, l shrank back and refused
to go in, dreading recognition. You know the
rest
The account was frequently interrupted by
that tell tale cough that shook the weak frame
so violently. In tears and silence we listened;
no words of reproach on our lips, no looks of
GOODNESS and rebuke in our eyes Oh no She
had sinned but she had also suffered. She
shrank from my proposal that she should now
accompany US home, but she yielded when |
said, Then you do not accept my forgiveness
'OhyesP she faltered; but l am so unworthy.
have so wronged YOU
Let the past be forgotten
And we went away from that attic, the silent
witness of how hard are the wages of sin, un-
mindful of the strange faces that peered out up
on us from the adjoining doors, for the unusual
sound of voices III the lonely woman's room had
awakened their curiosity, Minna only taking
with her the doll and ccrals, the locket and
shawl, the dearly cherished relics of other days.
The rest the next day gave TO poorer than
she.
Having taken the precaution to take a latch
key with me, we entered without disturbing the
servants and then leaving my wife (the word
sounding strangely to my earsJ in my daugh-
ters care, who supplied her with garments, l
left them together passed a seepless night
in my study. Not the least marvellous Of the ex
citing events Of the evening was the wonder
Gus change that had passed over myself l
could only explain this change by remembering
that He who hath the hearts of all men in his
hands, turneth them the rivers of water
whithersoever he will. In that midnight hour
| felt His power His omnipotence, His love and
bowed to them. l knelt humbly at his feet,
thanking him for bis kindness in remembering
me though had despised and rejected him. l
sought his grace and plead his promises nor did
he prove untaithful to them. l thought of Min
mas words, Had it not been for Christ's love,
which allowed me, poor Magdalen though l was,
to claim his promises,I should have often sought
relief in death from all my sorrow and despair,
but he granted peace even to me-
| And even in this could afterwards trace the
workings of an overruling Providence. If her
desertion had left me desolate and despairing
her return had restored to me joy, faith, a
Friend had never known before
The near approach of death sencej the won
dering of offcious friends. For, as had dread
ed, the excitement and exposure of that night
FASTENED her end. She never rose again. Ada
and l watching unremittingy by her, attached
by the chastened, humble, repentant spirit that
i fingered in the worn body The waters of her
/ life had been turbid and winding, but the end
was peace As we stood beside her to catch
j her last Mhsner we .hought not of her sin. but