The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1863-05-07
KENosHA, WISCONSIN, THURSDAY, MAY Z, 1868.

minutes. | am determined to see II IL Is
possible to make one man perfectly happy.
.TYou've chosen a promising subject" said
Johnson, with a smile of quiet glee. 1--WE a
90 od-natured capacity that way; and If any
man is suffered to appreciate comfort, l can
set up that modest claim"
Sc the old man was put into a bath then
barbered by a fellow skillful with razor and
shears; and finally clad in garments that
would have been respectable on Change.
Then Roger sat down in an easy chair which
Upton placed before the CRATE, and wept hike
a child.
sWhat is the matter with you" asked his
friend.
'This reminds me of my better days-it
brings such strange things to my memory"
muttered the old man.
SIS that all? l thought there might be
something else necessary to complete your
happiness.
Nothing, nothing"
Nothing at all? Are you sure there is
nothing more T -,
sIndeed"-a cloud paased over the old
mans face-'there is one thing would like
to have mended a little, but I had no thought
of asking the favor from YOU"
Speak out l tell you, old man; l knew
there was something else"
'My lodging is cherries and cold. freeze
these raw nights and | amt sure that three
meals a day and the warmest clothing will be
sufficient to carry happiness into that gloomy
hole"
What will you lave thenF'
80, l ask nothing; but the truth isl was
able to rent a little more comfortable lodg-
ing"
"TWhat would you fancy? Twill do no
harm to ask" u.f
81 am well aware that the only genuine,
civilized way of living is to have a house OF
ones own-but that of course l am not foolish
enough to think of"
"But supposing you were to have a house,
what sort of a house would you like? 2"
eff O mean Just such a house as l would
like-why. I'd say some such house as this
of yours. Everything seems SO comfortable
here. A man ought to be as happy as Adam
in an Eden like this"
'Now l tell you what old man." cried the
enthusiastic merchant, II can't think of turn
ing myself out of doors, even for the sake of
philanthropy but if you will let me live here
and let me have my own way a little, l will
give this house to be your home as long as
you live"
Old Roger Johnson opened his eyes wider
whit wonder.
sit shall be as if you were my father said
the eccentric Mr.. Upton. Everything have
shall be at your service. You shall sit with
me at my table, and enjoy three meals a day ;
my baker, my tailor, my servants are yours.
Twill be worth half my fortune to have a
happy man in the house. What do you say
to that ?"
'tNow you are knocking me-" said the old
man, deeply troubled.
so you thought at first; but I'll teach you
that | was never more in earnest In my hte,"
'But / can never pay you"
'FYou viii pay me, | tell YOU, by being per-
fectly happy"
sit is too much, too much!'
'tNot a lot too much, old man. And take
my word for it, it won't be long before you
will think of something else necessary to COM
plete full bliss. see by your eye you have
already thought of something-am l not
rightY'
0..Indeed,' said the old man, letting fall a
tear. 81 can never think of being happy until
[ know whether my child Edith lives, or what
has become of her"
'Ho, then you have a daughter p
81 had a daughter-to know that | have
one, and that she is still fair, and good, and
happy, would be worth more than all the bless
ings YOU so lavishly bestow on me to know
that is all | ask of heaven-then l would
be content to die"
'.But how did you lose sight of your child p
90. it would take a long story to tell you
that The poorthing' mother married against
the will of her family, who hated me because
| was poor. But / was fortunate in my bust
ness, and in the cour Sc of time L was able to
invite my wife's proud parents to my own
house, and treat them as such people ought to
be treated. Edith was our third child, and
all the dearer because she came late to I'LL the
places of a brother and sister who, one after
the other, had been taken from CUR hearts and
laid in the grave. When she was thirteen
years old a failure of a large firm, in which my
fortunes and reputation were staked, swept
ayay everything [ had earned and left me pen
niless. In the midst of my troubles, my poor
wife died, and necessity compelled me to COM
NIT Edith to the care Of her grandparents q,
the sorrow of that time ~ said the old man
weeping again. 'STo forget it, and to retrieve
nv fallen fortunes, / made a voyage to the
East Indies. 1t would take me all night to
tell YOU what chances befell me on sea and
land. Let all that pass. 1t is enough to say
that after absence Of twenty years, | return
ed WIFI DIOHCl LCdlGll, uAo 90 pOOA oS "HSt
went abroad. Then / commenced a search for
my child but her grandparents had been
thrown upon the would. | could fud no one
to tell me what had become OF her no one
had remembered her, even"
..And. is it so necessary to your happiness
that you should find her ~ asked Mr.. Upton.
Consider how changed she is by this time, if
indeed she still lives"
II have thought of that" replied Roger
ssbut O, she was the sweetest girl! If Icould
but find her as | left her, still a child, then my
cup of happiness would be full" =
The merchant arose smiling, noble-browed,
and radiant with the inspiration that filled
him.
'Have faith p he cried, " have faith, and
miracles may yet be performed. l have a
power to do you good beyond anything yet
conceived. Speak the word, and it shall be
done. Shall | restore your childr'
He looked and spoke like a prophet. The
old man was thrilled and awed. His lips
moved with a feeble murmur; and on the in
slant open flew the door at the merchants
touch. and into the full food Of light which
streamed from the astral lamp, stepped the
graceful form of a young girl, fresh and beauti-
full, and glad with bright curls ripping over
her head and neck.
my own child-my Edith !" cried the won
der-struck old man. 'But it cannot be-" he
faltered, sinking back upon the chair from
which he had risen in the excitement Of the
moment. ut cannot be-
'Look at her" said the merchant, ''and
have faith" r..at 35a.
The old man looked again. Those melting
blue eyes, that sweet cherry mouth, those
dimpled cheeks, the fair white brow, and de-
mure chin, every feature was the child's-his
Edith's. Yet it was not his child that stood
before him, else she was something more than
human, else she was an apparition that might
at any time vanish into thin air.
.sWhoare you, darling?" he asked in broken
accents.
81 am Edith johnson, +" said the child, with