The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-01-25
a father in JAIL than with you i'll a pa


of the deep lane Through, walked very
swiftly, the night came on before had pro
ceeded far from my uncIes house, with sucl
| thick gloom and fog that could almost fee
the darkness. BE Of good courage Eunice :
said 1 and to drive away the fears which
lay in wait for me if yielded but a little,
lifted up my voice, and began to sing oul
Evening Hymn.
Suddenly voice little way before me-
took up the tune, In a clear deep, rich tone,
like that of the Brother who taught us mu
sic in the settlement. AS | stopped instant
~, my heart leapiDg up with fear and a
strange gIadness the voice before me ceas
ed singing also
Good night, it said. There was such
kindness aud trankness ard sweetness in the
voice, that trusted it at once,
Wait for me- said am lost in tht
| night and want to fiud my way to Long
Vile
4 am going there, too, said the voice, tt
which | drew nearer each momeut auC
| Immediately saw tall dark figure in the
mist beside lie
Brother, said, trembling little though
wherefore knew NOT are we far from Long
| Vile 2
Only ten minutes walk he aus vereh
III nlithe tone, winch cneered me not d
ilItle.
Take ny ann, and We shall soon be
there
AS my hand rested CD his arm lightly
ie't SENSE Of great support aud protection
AS We ca,ne near the lighted window of tie
II
faces. lie was pleasant and handsome like
some OF the best pictures have ever seen
| DO not know why, bat : thought Of the
Angel Gabriel.
We are at LongviIle, he said tell me
where | can take you to-
Sir, | answered, for / could not say broth
or TO bin in the light 4 wish first to go 10
Woodbury.
20 Woodbury.. he repeated at this time
of night, and alone There is IL return
coach coming up i'll few minutes, by which
| travel to Woodbury., Will you accept OF
my escort there?
Sir, thank you, | answered and l
stood silent beside him, until the coach
lamps slfone close upon us in the fog The
stranger opeued tine door but hung back
with foolish feeling Of shame at my pow
erty, which it was needtul to conquer
we are poor people, stammered. L
must travel outside
Not such Winters night as this he
said.
Jump in
No no, replied, recovering my senses,
1 shall go outside A decent country wo-
man, with child, were already seated on
the top OF the coach, and quickly follow
ed them. My seat was the outer one, and
hung over the wheels. The darkness was
so dense that the titful gimmer of the coach
lamps upon the leafess hedgerows was the
only light to be seen. All else was black,
pitchy night, could think of nothing else
but my father and the Jail opening to i'm
prison him. Presently felt hand laid
firmly on my arm, and Gabrels voice spoke
to me.
Your at is a very dangerous ope he
said.
"A sudden jerk might throw you off,
Il am so miserable, sobbed, all my
courage breaking down and in the dark
ness buried my face in my hands, and
wept silently and even as | wept the
bitterness OF my sorrow was assuaged
Brother, | said-for in the darkness I
could call him SO again. 4 am only just
come lone from school, and | have not
learned the ways and troubles of the world
yet
My child, he answered, in low tone, /
saw you lean your head upon your hands
and weep. Can be of any help to you P
No., repeated ; the sorrow belongs to
Inc onl y, and to my house
He said no more; but | felt his arm
stretched out to form barrier across the
space where | might have fallen aud SO
through the black night We rode on to
Woodbury..
Brother More was awaiting me at the
coach-ottlce. He hurried me away, scarcely
giving Inc time to glance at Gabriel, who
stood looking after me. He was eager to
hear OF my interview with my uncle when
| told him Of my failure he grew thoughtful,
saying little until was i'll The railway Car
riage, when he leaned forward and whisper
ed, Tell Priscilla | will come over in the
morning.
Brother More is rich man; perhaps, for
Prscila's sake, he will free my lather
Nov. IL. dreamed last night that Ga
hrieI stood beside me, saying, 1 come to
bring thee glad tidings BIT as | listened
eagerly, he turned and vanished away
Nov. 10. Brother More is here every day,
but he says nothing about helping my IA
ther. If help does not come soon, he will be
castainto PRISON. Peradventure, my uncle will
reieut, ami offer us some e. 5ier terms 1t it
were only to live half my time with him,
would consent to dwell in his house, even as
Daniel and the three children dwelt un-
harmed IN the court Of Babylon. will
write to him to that effect
Nov. 10. No answer from my uncle. To-
day, going to Woodbury. with Priscilla, who
wished to converse with the pastor of the
church there, spent the hour she was engag-
ed with him in finding my way to the jail,
and walking round the outside of its gloomy
and massive walls felt very mournfnI
and faint hearted, thinking of my poor ia
ther. AT last, feeling very weary, | sat
down on the step at the gateway and look
ed into my little lot-boo< again. Onue more
| drew the verse, Be of good courage
Just then Brother More and Priscilla ap-
peared There was look upon his face
which | disliked, but remembered that he
was to be my sisters husband and | rose
and offered him my hand, which he tucked
up under his arm, his fat hand resting upon
it. So we three walked to and fro under the
prison walls Suddenly, in garden slop.
ing away beneath us, perceived him whom
| call Gabriel (not knowing any other
name), with fair sweet looking young
woman at his side. could not refrain
from weeping for what reason 1 cannot
tell, unless it be my fathers affairs Broth
| er More returned home with ms and. san,
John Robins away. John Robins desired
me to remember him, which | will as long
as live
Nov SO. Most miserable day My poor
father Is IL jail At dinner time to-day tw,
fnost e7iFiooSing men arrested him Cos
forgive me tor wishing they were dead
Yet my father spoke very patiently al,
gently.
Send for Brother More, he said, LATTER
pause, and act according to his counsel
So after little while they carried hin
away.
|