The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1861-05-09

At this moment the old clock in the room
struck twelve.
Then a hurried thought crashed through the
| brain of the tory Mannheim. He seizes the light
rushes to the room of his daughter, on the right
Some one he's Just arisen from the bed-the
chamber was vacant-then toward the chamber
on the lett, with steps of leaden heavness. Lo!
now he knife quivers in his hand He pauses
at the doc he listens his blood curdes in his
veins. Gathering courage, he pushes open the
door. He went toward the bed through the
curtains Of which he had struck so bEindly mo-
ment ago. Again he pauses; not sound still
ness more terrible than tie grave. lie filings
aside the curtains.
There in the full light Of the lamp, her form
half covered, bathed in her own blood-there
lay his daughter Mary.
And do not look upon the face Of her father
as he starts silently back, frozen to stone; but
in his pause of horror, listen to the mystery Of
the deed.
After the father had gone down stairs, an
hour ago, Mary silently stole from the chamber
on the right, her soul shaken by a thousand
fears. She opened the door on the left, and be-
held Washington sitting at the table. Then.
though her existence was in the act, ste asked
room on the right, Mary entered the room on
the left.
Can you imagine the agony OF that girls sou
as lying on the bed intended as the death coucf
Of Washington, she silently awaited the knife
although that knife might be clinched i'll q faith
er's hand.
And now, that father, frozen to stone, stood
here, holding the light in one hand, the Other
still clinching the red knife.
There lay his child the blood streaming from
that wound in her arm, her eyes covered with
a CLASSY film.
Mary = shrieked the guilty father, for, rob
Der and tory as he was, he called to ,her, bu
that was all he could say.
Suddenly she seemed to wake from that stu
por. She sat up in bed, with CLASSY eyes. The
strong hand of death was on her AS she sal
| there, erect and CLASSY, the room was thronged
with soldiers. Her lover rushed forward, and
called her by name-no answer. Called again
spoke to her in that familiar voice of older
time-still no answer; she knew him not.
Yes it was true-the strong hand of death
was npon her.
Has he escaped? she said in husky voice
Yes T. shrieked her father, live Mary, only
live, and tomorrow I will join the camp at Val
| ley Forge,
Then. that girl-that hero woman dying as
she was, not much from the wound IN hei
arm as from the agony which had broken heI
last chord Of life, stretched forth her arms as il
she beheld form floating above the bed beck
oning her away.
'Mother! she whispered, while there group
ed the soldiers-there with speeches. agony ]
his brow, stood the lover-there, hiding he
face with one hand, while the other GRASP ped he
cleaning light, flashing over the da.
! bed, with the form in the centre. Mother
thank God for with my life have saved him.
Look! even az stareing on that bloody couch
there, she speaks that halfformed word, her
arms stifen, her eyes vide open, set in death,
glare in his face
She is dead. From the room her spirit has
gone.
That half formed word still quiyering on the
white lips af the her ole woman-that uttered
| in a husky whisper and choked by the death
rattle, that word WASHINGTON.