The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1865-05-18

~ ""'OA OtA" Ao SOOu' kCHe got
worse and worse, now shivering, now
glowing with fever, and at last man.
ma tho't that maybe it would be better
to send for a doctor. But when the
doctor came it was too late. She had
inflammation on the lungs, and died
next day. The doctor said it was very
unwlse to let us go as we did, all the
year round, with bare arms and necks
and legs, running in and out of the
house. But we had always done so,
and mamma tho't that nonsense; it
made children hardy, she said, so mol
change was made, But by-and-by !
Roger, the stoutest of us, was taken i'll, |
much IN the same way, and before the |
New Year he went too, and was laid
beside beside Janey. Then mother
grew weaker and weaker, and coughed
awfully, and could neither sleep nor
eat. All me, ah me! it breaks my
heart to think of that time.
In a word, she was in a consump-
ton before anybody in the house thot
there was anything serious the matter.
She fingered through the spring and
summer, and in the autumn she died.
1t took my father by surprise, just as
much as if her death were sudden. He
could not and would not believe he was
to lose her. He did what | have since
noticed so many people do, watching
over the sick beds of those they love
too well to own they must learn to do
without them. He took notice of ev-
cry little favorable symptom, and over
looked every alarming one; he never
would so back to remember how much
weaker she was than she had been
three months ago. If she had bet
ter night, or ate with any appetite, or
seemed interested in anything, that, he
considered, showed real improvement
while the many bad nights, and the ha-
bitual dislike to food and the sad, wea-
ry lstlessness, were mere accidental
and passing states. He never recov-
cred the shock Of her death; he became
a silent, worn, broken-down man, and
died two years later.
Within the next seven years Lena
and Charlie followed and there were
! Willie and | left alone in the old house,
without near relation, or, / may say,
an intimate friend in the world.
You may guess if [ loved Willie.
He was two years younger than I was,
and even while the others lived, we
two had been dearest of all to each
other. Oh, the sweet boy
he was with his soft eyes and deli
cate skin, and fine hair, like child
always. He was tall and slender,
such a willowy figure, and his hands
white and transparent, like mammals.
l used to tremble all over if l heard
him cough, and often [ would wake
up IN the night, shivering from some
horrible dream of his being i'll, and
going like the rest. Sometimes
used to think to myself, maybe ii
was true the place was not healthy,
or that, at all events, it did not sui
us. But where to go ? How could
we two, | girl of twenty, Willie but
eighteen, leave this, our own place,
that we had never been away from
since we were born, and go out tc
seek a home in the wide, wide world
Still, was | to see my Willie perisI
before my eyes, without even an at.
tempt to see if a change might mo-
save him ?
So one night, when we We're sit.
ting alone and silent over the fire
we seldom talked much, for, as you
may suppose, we had rarely mucl
that was new or pleasant to tall
about, and [ was listening to thai
drip, drip, that [ have said was Sc
dreary-L ventured to open the sub
ject. | took Willie's soft thin hand
and put it against my cheek, and
held it there, looking into the fire
while [ spoke.
"Willie, dear, how it rains -
'It alaoays rains, I think" he
said.
/ 'Well, | do believe it rams more
here than in most other places. Tn
afraid it rains too much to be very
healthy"
''Oh, there's no harm in the rain, i
it wasn't SO dreary.''
''But sometimes I'm afraid there 4,
harm in it and in the damp, do think
it hasn't agreed with us ALL
''Oh, it wasn't that? A place we've
been used to all our lives can't disa-
gree with us. And if it did, where
else could we go to?
''That's the question. But I dc
think we ought to try little change -
But Willie wouldn't hear of it then
SO the matter dropped for the moment.
Poor dear, he hated change or move
ment, or the sight Of strangers, so
that | could not find it in my heart
urge him. Besides, l had another
reason, foolish one, perhaps, but
still it was so. We had determined
together, when we Were first left alone
in the world, that henceforth we were
to be all in all to each other. We
would never marry, nor go out into
society, nor be separated for one week
but live and die together.
Now, I thought if 1 press it upon
him, ne may think that l am speak
ing for myself; that it is 1 who want
nhanrp onI o1o+box,