The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-11-15
THE THREE ROSES.
From Dickens All the year Round.

Years since, when we were children, my
mother took for the summer one of the
many charming chalets by the Lake Gene
va Il peeped from mass of flowers like a
TOW house, in the centre of a boquet. The
little hamlet in the vicinity seemed built up
at random, within gardenl Even tue old
church, perched high up opon the hills was
surrounded by flcwering shrubs. 1t was a
kindly neighborhood, and all the residents
visited nv mother on the spot. Out oil
their families came forth my three especial
pIayfellows, Rose Sebille, Rose Grahame,
and Rose Fcnnereau. AS | writetheir names,
they steal, with my departed youth, like
spirits to my side Soon | hear their gay
singing, and the little feet that never walk
ed, except to church. patterlng and dancing
up the garden ways. ( J {.
|, Frank, the only representative Oh my
sex among the merry band was respected
as a great authority and infallIble reference
and had my own way IN everything. t,ur
favorite walk was to the cemetery, than
which no palace garden was ever rleher, IN
sweet flowers Long before we approacneo
its sacred precincts, the air was laden win II
theirfraeranee.r There was nothing nelan-
choly to us in thatdelightful garden OF rest
We had never seen death. We only 1elt we
J II. ,f,I
should be quiet, and not noisy and playful
there. as in the presence of something holy'
1t was a kind of church to us, and Whlle we
reverenced it as such. am afraid we enjoyed
it more.
Sometimes we would come suddenly upon
black PROSTATE figures, still and quiet IKE
everything around; and the graves at "nlcL
we had noticed these mute mourners had an
especial interest for the time.
Our French nurse, however, INTRODUCED
us to tomb that had melancholy cnatin
beyond all others Uutil we came, no How
er or garland had ever been placed upon Ia
Onlyla solitary willow -saphng had been
planted there, and that had died at once
There was a name kno%n to the world, and
even to us; a date, and, deeply cut III large
letters, the single word, "Proscrit."
remember that we all stood weeping by
his grave, as the nurse related to us the
patriots story All that SUMMER we lsId
fresh garlands Oh his tomb and, whether
we,knew it or not. never failed to wave
adieu to him as we left the gates
The bright summer passed but too quick
Iy away We were often on the lake, sail
ing past Chillon, our great delight being to
fraternize, by friendly signs with the prs
oners therein confined There was some
thing pleasantly mysterious III their dark
figures, half concealed behind the bars -
Once we had great alarm.
In apparent answer to our amicable dem
onstrations, formidable looking instru-
ment was protruded from the barrel case
ment. Were they going to fire upon us.
No. Our boatman FASTENED to assure us it
was only fishing rod, the use of which
was permitted by a-paternal government
to pass away the time. But at no time did
we ever observe atrout ascend to that lofty |
fishing bank. fA '-
Thus feeling, as l am sure we did, the
beauty and grandeur of the scenes surround
ing us, though without any artistic appre
citation of them, we whiled away that happy
summer, until certain crispness and flip
spancy in the breeze that came from the
neighboring hills reminded US that sumner
delights were over, and autumn begun.
My mother prolonged her stay as much
as possible, but, one. morning, behold our
rose trees bending under pure white robes
of snow This was hint not to be mlsta
ken In three days we were to go. We
did what we could, We sulIenly madea
snow man, and SO successfully that we
deemed him worthy of the name of William
Tell, and left him there, gazing with ais
black pebble eyes towards the Crags and
peaks he loved so well.
For ourselves, we were to go to spot
where snow was never seen, and there was
sunshine for my mother the whole winter
long Our last days at Clarens was some
what sad. Ihad to separate from my play
mates, for my suggestion to take the three
Roses with us was over ruled by the respec-
tive parents of these flowers, as well as my
own. We made last pilgrimage together
to the grave of the "Proscrit," and deposit
ted thereon a wreath of eevergeerns of pro-
digious size, while the three Roses and my
little sister-Rose Mary (who was, however
too small to be regarded as regular Rose)
mingled their tears, and those who were
to remain, pledged themselves to remember
the "Proscrt" for our sake as we'll as his
own. With this unselfsh bond we parted,
crying q will confess iD till we could cry
no more, and of many partings since, | can
recall but one as bitter. @ t-T Z
y The only male friend | had left at CIarens
was the young doctor OF the village who
had attended my mother, and often took
me as his companion in his long professional
drives or walks among the hills. He was
full of life, as merry as a boy, and glad OF
any excuse to run races and jump bitches
: FL Is
with me.
correspondent with him after our separa-
ton, at first in round text and1a succession
of abrupt sentences always ending with
ssMy love to the roses" AS time went on
/ had more subjects of interest to dilate
upon. His replies had a great charm for
me, and when my mother died, bis was the
one letter that broke the dull apathy of
grief into which | had fallen, aud taught
me healthier sorrow.
You are ILL.," he said in his last letter
81 believe can cure you. Leave London
to- morrow, and, accidents apart, be with
me on Thursday.
| obeyed; and thus, after an interval of
lust twenty years returned to Clarens.
found my excellent friend fatter than
g could have imagined. Friends so often
omit to mention the personal changes that
are taking plase'in them, and photographs
were at this tine unknown. His hair MAS
curiously streaked with white as if he had
died it with an unsteady hand, but there
was The same kind, beaming face, and the
grasp of the hand was cordial almost to
pain. lie had loved my mother, and our
first talk was all of her. -lusensibly we
glided into other topics-old scenes and ad-
Ventures-and, at last, Inquired for 1.-The
Roses"
.They are all here-all here" he answer
ed. z"Rose Sebille, Rose Fonnereau, and
and Rose Grahame; but, he added,
gravely, 1--WE will visit her last"
AS we sat that evening in the familiar
balcony, looking on the blue lake, and
glancing every instant towards chalet halt
6uried in the trees and flowers aud fraught
with so many sweet and sacred recoliec
ton. learned the story of the first of my
three bright Roses-ROse Fonnereau.
We could discern, in the twilight, granc
old chateau frowning down upon US from
an adjacant-hilI, though to be literally cor
rect, it presently began to shine and gllstel