The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1864-07-21
Amt HEPNE'S WARMING,

"You wanted to hear about tile warning;
Very well then; toss me that bundle, please
and hold the zephyr while l wind, and I'll
tell you all about it.
Aunt Hepzie had come over to take tea
with my mother and the two were sitting.
in cheerful state, before the parlor fire
aunty was arrayed in pontiicals, her best
alapaca gown and silk apron, with stiff CAP
which always came in box and went in {
box, and during the interregnum lowered SUI
limelimely upon its owners head.
lis there any thing of interest in the viii
Iage ?" asked my mother. Aunt Hepzie was
from the village. We were suburbans.
No, nothin particular that know of,
replied my aunt, conscientiously, at the
same time adjusting her knitting sheath
| think our church is in an awful condition
"Why do you? l thought they seemed
very united the last year." remarked moth,
er.
Omitted Oh dear yes, Deacon Hall he
says we all froze together. Oh, he talked
beautiful about it, the last Conference meet
in Said. he wonderd the storms that come
us. Oh, its o the Lords mercy that we
amt consumed, every one of us!" and aun
ty gave deep sigh,
''Why as to that, its to Gods mercy WE
have all our blessings, isn't it Hepzibah?
replied mother with some energy. She nevel
reished aunt's attacks upon times and PEG
pie; and she went on, . AS for thinking thai
we are in any danger Of the fate of Sodom
don't even think we are particularly deserv
ing Of it. No doubt we have all great rea
son to be humble on account of our sins; bu
what's the use Of saying that we live IN the
worst age, and among the worst people
Its no such thing For my part, I'm thank
tnl my lines have fallen iii such pleasant
places"
sWelI Susan, I'm glad if you can takt
such a cheerful view ont! but that wan,
the way Deacon Hall talked. An speaker o
him reminds me: they do say t Clarissy
Halls RELY going to he married. They Dor
rowed Miss Squire Jones cake tins this morn
in. Borryin' them cake tins alters mean 6
weddin'; right off too An that makes mt
think-aunty was fairly under way now.
knew there would be no intermssion unit
tea time.
dye know that Squire Jones neph yev
had come up from New York to spend tht
Summer
No We hadn't heard of it. VIVA
nephew? asked mother.
''Why young Farley. You remember his
mother; she t was Lecty Jones, She mar
ried Farley, an they went off downtown
try sonewheres to live, an this is her son.
''Ah yes remember his mother perfect
ly. Well this will be very pleasant for Mrs
Jones.
pheasant for the girls, you'd better say
Master hand he is for the girls, they tell ME
an shouldn't wonder Come up here fol-
his health, indeed! Don't believe word o
it. l see him to meetin long O. Miss Jones
an he looked we'll enough, 'cordin' to my
way o thinllin. All pink and white. Wei
| know one thing! Eff was a girl woudn'
speak to him with all his airs. The upstart
and aunty made an emphatic pause. Their
was silence broken only by the clicking 0
two sets of knitting needles. | had a bool
reading with my eyes and hearing with m,
ears, quite conscious that the present ubjec
was supposed to have bearings upon my
self.
Il tell you" began Aunt Hepzie again
sturdily, girls better be pritty careful. Cit.
beaux is mighty onsartin-mighty onsar
tin," and she repeated the words to rende
them still more impressive. ''All they car
for country girls is to kite about an hev
good time with EN- here and when they ge
back to the city they don't think no NOR
Eabout 'em n they do about last years robi
mot a whit more; so Loizy"-here sh
sent shot from her black eyes over he
Ispectacles at me $50 now you may tax
lWamln'."
Thank you aunty but / don't think
will be needed. Pink and white aren'
illus my style, you know" said.
Just out Of the city there was a grand oil
place, with bay-windows and balconies
fountains and flowers That was the Farie1
place. Up on the hill there was brown
house with low roof and vine coyere,
porch. That was our house. Philip Far
Fleys father owned ships on sea and block
on shore. Mine had gone to sleep years ag
under the tangle Of wild brier and golden
rod up in the church yard.
Six feet tall and broad houIdered, viii
blue eyes, light hair, and beard goIdenant
silken like embroidery hoss-thats Philip.
You see how little and dark | am: ant
my hair, did you ever see it down? Look a
me then when take the combs out Bhcl
as night and nearly covers me, you sea. =
Vain of it you say? a trihe, perhaps. Why
not? [ know It's beautiful If were pretty
myself I'd own it all the same; but I'm no
you know. Wasntit odd that great mass
of sunshine like Philip should fancy little
dusky bit of shadow like me? But he lid
and knew it Of course. A woman always
knows, | suppose. And don't mind now
telling you that liked him from the first
in fact we were in love; use the expires
sion under protest because it's the briefest
way of putting II.
| You know there is class of our county
people who for some reason or other, are In
imical toward their city brethren. You COZ
easily imagine that my Aunt Hepzie was OLE
of these. 1t was few days after her tea-
drinking at our house that she was bustlin;
about one bright morning in her tidy kitch
en-, by tie by yon should see it. From sill
yer spoon down to brass kettle, everything
shines. 1t would be the work of superrero-
cation to introduce MIRRORS into that house
when one may see ones face in every thing
But, as / said, Aunt Hepzie was in the
kitchen when she heard a skrimping noise
as she reported to me subsequently, with a
vigor peculor her own, and turning, she was