The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1864-03-24


him and found pair.
Mrs OHara looked at him.
''You know the place WE'LL sir she OBJ
sit down, sit down, Mrs. OHara :" and
he smiled at her again. ''Come tell me,
does Mr. Denham live in this neighborhood. y
'Elis son does, sir, but his daughters are
married"
''And the Roystons-what has become Of
them ?"
''All here still, sir-the three young gen
tleman married, and one Of the daughters ;
the other, poor thing is single, still. She was
going to be married, believe, but the poor
young gentleman was shot. Poor Livy!"
poor Henderson !" sighed the stranger,
II thought it would be So"
''You knew Mr. Henderson ?" said the old
woman; ''manys the time he was in this
room with my poor husband"
Indeed | did; poor fellow [ saw him
shot"
''Who on earth are you, sir ?"
The stranger smiled melancholy smile
at her again.
''And the Hamiltons and billions ~ he
questioned on.
''Mr. Hamilton's there still but Mr.. Dill
lon gave up his place, and sold off every
thing. Some said he was broke; and Mr.
Saunders, Mr.. Fortescues agent, lives there
now"
'EWho is Mr.. Fortescue?"
60 sir he married Mr. Burtons daugh-
ter, and then he got the property at the old
mans death"
Sure there was another son, said the
stranger, quickly.
''There was, sir-Master Henry; but the
poor young man got Decline and went to
the Continent and died, and the old gentle
man didn't live long after him."
poor Henry sighed the stranger to HIM
self
''You knew him too, sir ?"
After pause the stranger asked.
And Mr.. Fortescue; is he at home now p
Eyes, sir, he is; but the poor man is in
great grief-he lost his wife; she died last
month in Italy, of decline"
Ills wife!" cried the stranger she dead
too--all gomez"
The tears filled his blue eyes, and trickled
down on his cheeks
81 know you, now ?" screamed his com
panion, starting up, II know you now, you
are Charles Burton if he is i'll this world
The tall man stood up, and cIasped her
in his arms, and kissed her, and cried on in
silence; and she Rugged him, and said, Il
know you, now"
Kate looked into the room, and the tall
stranger was still kissing her mother; but
they did not mind her. She wisely left them
there.
"Why didn't We tell me?' said Mrs. OHara
as they resumed their seats.
81 wanted to find out all about the family,
first"
"And sure they all thought that you were
tfresy ned .
''Oh, that's long story which I'll tell
you some time or other--you see | am still
alive
''You are come down to the assizes, then,
to look for the property?"
ooh, no! no | had no idea my brother
was dead. have earned my own fortune:
| came after long absence, to find loved
darling sister and brother, and pass the rest
of my life with nl-they are both dead
and I'm alone in the world" And his tears
flowed afresh.
At length he said, ''Your intelligence has
quite overcome me, dear Mrs. O'Hara. VIII
you send some one to show me my lodgings?
Tomorrow 1 will speak with you again
He was up again early in the morning
indeed he scarcely slept And he took his
stick, and entalong the well known road
towards home 1t was very early-the birds
had hardly commenced their morning song
no one was stirring On he went-each
turn in the road so familiar--each tree SO
well remembered. The very ditches as he
walked along, seemed friends to him-each
little object was recognized, pleasant compan-
ions to his thoughts along the old road.
There is the little village now, once his home,
and the old church with it's fore-hnger point
ing up to warn and check evil doers-that
church, where he had often gone, thought
less lad, with other thoughts than prayer.
And the good clergyman. too Mr. Head
was he there still who used to remind the
young people that it was Gods house they
were in, and would they not respect him
there? Had God forgiven them all the sins
Of negligence and wilfuI ignorance, and
headlong crime, that he had INDUCED
in, when there before, and the tears trickled
down the humbIed sinners cheek. The
christian felt that God was merciful, and had
forgiven; but was he not sorely tried now ?"
He came to the old gate, and the lodge
inside and the avenue disappearing through
the trees. The gate people were not up he
thought At all events, he would not trust
himself that way Old Biddy Crawford, if
she was there would be sure to know him.
So he went on under the high park wall, and
came to the stile,so often passed before, and
climbed over. Once again III the dear old
place-and his heart was full up in his mouth.
He hurried on-through the wood, and the
old trees looked down and smiled on him,
looking young again, with the coming
spring
And he looked up Or the old friends to
welcome their stranger home. Old friends
that changed not, though all else that play
ed with him amongst them were gone-the
sunny faces that used to smile, but the old
trees the warrior nurses, the grim play
mates of chiIdhood's happy hour, they were
there-there, still there--they only TO well
come the stranger home. AS he reached the
end of the wood there was large lawn be-
fore him, and the clumps of trees and the
house, the dear house in the distance. He
folded his arms, and looked at the view be-
fore him. Still he looked
And as he gazed on each loved scene,
He telt-he felt he was Il boy again
He stood there, lost in thought, while the
tears rolled fast from his eyes-his whole
past life came up at view before him. His
childhoods happy days, when his angel
mother kissed and petted her golden haired,
darling youngest son-the spoiled pet
and taught him to lisp at her knee his infant
prayers. She went first; then his boyhood,
like cloud after an hour of sunshine. His
stern father, and the hasty blow, his boiling
blood, and the bitter secret tears of early
manhood's shame at being like dog. Then
the reckless daring, and headIong rush to
sin. Theu further on--a lad-still worse,
more, stepped in vice. And then vein Of
gold in the dark chaos of dross Dear Mary,
that loved him so wel-his fist love, his
last-his darling wife that died so soon !!
And passionate burst Of grief checked the
thought. He skirted along the wood Should
h.. u, do hnr,s.. . rL..ra one