The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1865-05-18
IN THE UNTRoDpEN WAYS.
From Harper's Weekly.

parents, IN an Old house In the count
ny, and had no near neighbors. A
desolate place everybody thought it,
and suppose it was so, but [ loved
it from its being the only home had
ever known, and full of old associa-
tons. I'm afraid it was an unwhole-
some place. 1t was nestled down
amidst trees and great wen-grown
evergreens-splendid evergreens, and
so sandy in summer; but it is true
that they did hold the damp dread
fully; from some of the windows we
could stretch out our hands-as chill
dren we used to amuse ourselves when
it was too wet to so out, by doing so
and plucking the leaves and BIOS
SONS. The house, too, from founda-
ton to root, rwas hidden by creepers,
ivy and honeysuckle, and rose, all
growing SO thick that the windows
were just peep-holes, and great stray
Cling sprays used to wave across them,
and up above the line of the roof
cornice. Oh, lovely in summer the
roses and the woodbine were! cluster
ing in long trailing masses about the
walls, and hanging over the porch,
and making shelter for dozens of
sparrows' nests. There were, too,
great bowery elms and ashes, and one
huge walnut-tree almost leaned
against the house, overhanging part
of it, built as lean-to; beautiful it
looked but in wet weather, and
ours was very wet part Of the coun-
try, the perpetual drip, drip oft and
the chambers had dreary sound !;
and in autumn the leaves used to
choke up the cutters, and make such
foods through the ceilings. Almost
all OF them were stained by these over
flows, and when | was little child,
and used to wake early-the chatter
ing Of the sparrows in the greenery
about the window often woke me at
daylight-or when | was i'll, which
was not unfrequently the case, used
to lie in my little bed, and trace fig
ures and images in those stains
Things laid for while, got mildewed
and mouldy, and some of the rooms,
the ones under the walnut-tree, and
those to the north, where the laurels
and rhododendrons-8uch rhododne-
drons grew close against the walls,
were, | must say, sadly dark and cold
and so damp that the paper used tc
peel off the walls. The garden and
lawn, too, were lovely shady places
but | suppose they, too, may have
been somewhat overgrown, for the
flowers never throve there, and the
grass was nearly always soppy, and
the walks wet and moss grown.
Whether this had anything to dc
with it or not-sometimes [ fear it
may have had, though | feel as if ii
were treason against my dear old
place to say so we certainly were
not a healthy family, nor yet long
lived one.
Ny father farmed his land himself ;
it gave him something to do, he said,
and, indeed, if he had not had that.
| l don't think he would haze done
anything. [ suppose he could not
have been called an energetic man
but he was kind man as ever was,
dear father. and never leased OIL
troubled any one about him, but let
things take their course. He did moi
make much of the farming, but as we
had enough to live upon comfortably,
it did not so much signify. The land
was wet and heavy, and wanted such
a lot Of draining, and the hedges and
banks were so thick and high, they
took up a deal of space, and kept the
air and sunshine off the fields. We
did not think Of those things then in
our part Of the country, and it's only
since I've lived where do now, that
I've learned them. There was gener-
ally something the matter with the
: sheep or cattle, or the potatoes got
the disease, or the hay heated, or the
rats got so ahead that they ate up
half the corn, and the young ducks
and chickens too. Farming-at all
events it was so with us-is, | dc
think, a very unsatisfactory sort Of
thing; though [ took great pleasure
in it myself, in those days, in the
poultry-yard, especially, and in rear
ing the calves, only they would die
so soon. ss5a
However, as l have said, my dear
father never took these things to
heart. So long as he could saunte1
about, seeing to things, and get a
days shooting now and again, and
have his nap after dinner, all went
smoothly with him.
My mother was just as easy-going
as my father. A pretty, fair woman,
| remember her, always delicate, and
Igoing about the house, or sitting on
her sofa with shawl; a sweet-look-
ing creature, gentle and placid, but
with a great dislike to trouble Of any
kind, or being put out Of her way
She seldom left the house, summer or
winter, and year by year she got paler
and more fragile, and by degrees the
little cough 1 always remember her
having, got worse, and used to dis
turb her at night. The few visitors
we saw used to advise her seeing a
doctor. But she always replied it
was nothing, she would be better when
L