The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-11-29

Isilence. 81 saw him jokin' last Sunday
when Ellen's folks tried to keep us apart
| but if the Rawlinsons serve him so, how will
helike it,"
The Rawlinsons might have had it just
as soon as the Bateses. The constable said
nobody knew how it came to the FRS. II
comes just as it likes; so people shouldn't
be very. proud, for any body may have a
humble. If it goes OH others will have ups
and downs as we'll as we. Why"-and she
wheeled round to her son-'for what they
know, James Astbury's cattle might take it,
and our poor things not :" -o
II wish to God they would!' Mark ex-
claimed, his eyes instantly ablaze with pas
sion. @tHr--
'Hush. oh, that's wicked" instantly put
in his mother, clasping her hands and look
ing appealingly at him, with conscience
stricken look on her widowed face. No
we must not say that, Mark; we must hope
uobody's will have it, Turning, she hur-
ried on afresh towards the house, this time
leaving Mark to follow as he pleased, which
he did very slowly, his head bent lower than
before
Mother! Joseph saysthe cattle plague
is come !" shouted a bright haired girl of
about eight, with tossing arms, and half
gleeful expression on her face, as she ran
down the slope of the home croft to meet
Mrs. Leatham.
at is nothing to be pleased about Mat
ty, said the mother, shaking her head
Granny laughs at it," was the girls re-
ply,peerng up into the elder speakers face,
''ohe says Sam Bates won't mock at Mark
now"
Granny shouldn't do So" And Mrs
Leatham cast a glance over her shoulder to
see where Mark was. Fortunately he was
out of hearing. "Hush! Go and shut the
lane gate; the pigs will be- out. Granny is
as childish as thee to laugh about the cattle
plague she added, in an under-tone, draw
ing deep breath, as the girl, not over-wil-
lingly, started on the GRAND.
A word or two will be sufficient to clear
up what the conversation of mother and son
does not quite explain The Leathams
had recently been considerably reduced in
position, twot thirds of their stock having
been sold off not more than ten months pre-
viously; and, as matter Of course great
part of their land had to be given up. In
deed, it was solely owing to the kindness of
had to leave the farm altogether. He had
out OF benevolenct to the widow, added the
superiiuous grazing to the adjacent holding,
and still left her in possession of the house
and what land she wanted The reason of
this change in their affairs was the folly of
Mark Leatham, senior, in allowing himself
to be entangled by profigate cousin and
knavlsh lawyer in bond of surety ship,
which he had to make good when his dsso-
lutte relative broke down. 1t killed the poor
dull-headed, warm-hearted farmer and
aged his widow by many years; but she had
Drawer soul than her husband, and after
his death, struggled hard to make the best
of things. There were two children living
Mark and little Matty, a great gap existing
between their ages, since the son was three
aud twenty and the daughter only eight.
Mark was not illdispositioned, but, like
his father, he had not much moral energy,
and a CROSSED love affair had quite exhaust
ed his resolution. He and Ellen Astbury,
the youngest daughter of well to do
neighboring farmer, had been considered
sweethearts for nearly four years past, but
since these losses had overtakeu the Leath-
ans the elder Astburys had looked coldly
on Mark. The granny of whom little Mat
ty spoke was old Mrs Leatham, the moth
er-in-law Of the widow, who had always
lived on the farm, herself having lost her
husband before her son married She was
a very old woman, but these reverses had
only embittered her temper, and her pas
sions had not lost their willfulness as the
narrative will show j.