The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-06-27


she had lived. Her very dress, SO much better
than it usually was, enhanced the melancholy
aspect of the poor woman s withdrawal. Her
daughter followed her closely, ashamed, and
not venturing to lift her eyes. They were a
pathetic couple to that little group that knew
Z all about them. Nancy threw the door open
Tor them with revengeful satisfaction. One
OF the funeral attendants who still fingered out
side, opened the outer one. They went out of
the subdued light into the day, their hearts tin
Cling with hundred wounds. At least the
mothers heart was pierced and palpitatiug in
every nerve. There was an instructive silence
While they went ut,.and after they were gone.
Even Mr.. Browns humph was a very sub
dued protest against the injustice which Mrs.
Christian had done him. Everybody stood re-
spectful at the real calamity.
And so, they are just where they were =
cried the young surgeon, who was one of the
party and pretty, sweet Bessie must still car
| ry her father en- her shoulders and drag her
mother by her side wherever she goes; it's very
hard one can't help thinking it's very hard
burden for one cher years.'
But it is burden of which she might be re-
! lleYed, said Mr.. Brown, with a smile
The young man colored high and drew back
a little. Few men have courage enough to
take up such burdens Of their own will, he said,
with little heat; have burdens of my own,
few words may imply great deal in a little
company, where all the nterocutors know each
other. This remark, though it was simple
enough, disturbed the composure of the young
doctor, a minute after, he muUteged something
about bis further presence being unnecessary,
and fastened away There were now left the
rector, the churchwarden and Mr.. Brown.
OF course you viii accept her trust, Mr..
Brown said the rector.
The attorney made a great many gtimaces,
but said nothing. The whole matter was too
startling and too sudden to have left him time
to think what he was to do
Anyhow, the poor Christians are left in the
lurch, said the churchwarden for, suppose,
Brown, if you don't undertake it. it'll go into
Chancery. Oh don't pretend to know, but
ITS natural to suppose, OF course, that it would
go into Chancery, and stand empty, with all the
windows broken for twenty years. But could
MT they make you undertake 1t whether you
pleased or no? am only saying what occurs
to me, of course; I'm not a lawyer-I can't
know
Well, never mind, said Mr.. Brown; 4 can
not undertake to say just at this critical momen
what shall do. don't like the atmosphere
Of this place, and there's nothing more 10 be
done just now that l know Of. We had better
CO.
But the houSe-and Nancy conclusion
must be come to directly What will YOU do
about them p said the rector.
To be sure l don't doubt there's plate and
Jewelry and such things about-they ought TO
be sealed and secured, and that sort Of thing,
said the still more energetic lay functionary. i
For anything we know, she might have mon |
ey in old stockings all about the house should
not be surprised at anything after what we've
beard to-day. Twenty thousand pounds and
daughter! If any one had told me that old |
Mrs. Thompson had either the one or the 9TH |
err yesterday at this time should have said
they were crazy. Certainly, Brown the cup
boards and desks and so forth should be exam
med and sealed up. Ii is YOU duty to Phoebe
Thomson. You must do your duty to Phoebe |
Thomson, or she II get damages OF yea l sup |
PGae so-you ought to know
Cpafound Phnbe Thonson!' said the attor-
ney, with great junction; but notwithstanding,
GENE along; let's get out of this. AS for her !
Jewelry and her old stockings, they must take
their chance. l can't stand it any longer
pah there's no air to breathe. How did the
old witch ever manage to live to eighty, here?'
You must not call her by such improper ep-
ithsts. have no doubt she was good woman,
said the rector; and recollect, really you owe
a little respect to person who was only buried
to-day
If she were to be buried Tomorrow, cried
the irreverent attorney, making his way first
through the narrow doorway; / know one man
who would have nothing to do with the obse-
quies Why, look here! What right had that
old humbug to saddle me with her duties after |
neglectiDg them all her life and with that
bride implied, to allure me to undertake it too?
All, the old wretch don let lis speak of her !
AS for respect, don't owe her partcle-that
is consolation. l knew something of the
kind Of creature she was, before to-day
So saying, John Brown thrust his hands in
to his pockets, shrugged up his shoulders, and
went OFT at q startling pace up the quiet street. |
1t was very quiet little street IN the outskirts
of a very quiet little town The back of the
house which they had just left was on line
with the road--a blank wall, broRen only by one
staircase window. The front was to the garden
entering by a little side gate, through which
the indignant executor had just hurried, crunch
ing the gravel under his rapid steps. 4 line
OF such houses, doleful and monotouous, with
all the living part Of them concealed in their
gardens forming one side of the street., along
which he passed so rapidly. The other side
consisted Of humber habitations, meekly con-
tented to look at their neighbors' back win
dows.
When John Brown had shot far ahead Of his |
late companions, who followed together great |
ly interested in this new subject oftaik, his rap
id course was interrupted for moment. Bessie
Christian came running across the street from
one of the little houses She had no bonnet on,
and her black dress made her blonde complex-
ion and light hair look clearer and fairer than |
ever and when the lawyer drew up all at once |
to hear what she had to say, Eartly from COM
passion and partly from curiosity, it did not
fail to strike him how like child she was, APP
preaching him thus with her message Oh, |
Mr.. Brown, cried Bessie, out of breath; L want |
to speak to you. If you will ask Nancy, am
sure she will give you whatever information is
to be had, about-aunts friends. She has been
with aunt all her life. thought l would tell
you, because you might think, after what mann
ma said
l did not think anything about it, said Mr..
Brown.
That we knew something, and would not
tell yon; but we don't know anything said
Bessie never heard Of Phoebe Thomson be-
FORE
Mr.. Brown shrugged up his shoulders high
er than ever, aud thrust his hands deeper into
his pockets. Thank you,' he said, a little I'M
graciously; i should have spoken to Nancy of
course, in any case; but I'm sure It's very kind
of you to take the trouble-good by
Bessie went back blushing end disconcerted
and the rector and churchwarden, coming grad
ually up On the other side of the road seeing
her eager approach and downcast W .thdrawal,
naturally wondered to each other what she could
want with Brown, and exchanged condolences
vi tIle Iacb tndL Drown manners were wonder
fully Realistically too bad Brown, in the
meantime, without thinking anything about his
manners, hurried aloeg to his Office. He was
extremely impatient Of the whole concern; it,
vexed him unconsciously to see Bessie Chris
tian it even occurred to him that the sight of
her and her mother about, would make his I'M
welcome office all the more CALLING to him. In
addition to all the annoyance and trouble, there
would be constant suggestion that he had wrong
ed these people. He rushed into his private
sanctuary, the most uncomfortable man in Car
lingford. An honest unselfsh, inoffensive citi-
zen, injuring no one, if perhaps he did not help
SO many as he might have done-what griev-
Gus fault had he committed to bring upon him
self such a misfortune as this
The will which had caused so much converse
ton was to this purport. 1t bequesthed all the
property of which Mrs. Thomson, of Grove
Street, died possessed, to John Brown attorney
il Carlingford, in trust FOR Phoebe Thomson, the