The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1868-06-13

mental, and moral progress Of 30 large and
important class Of the people.
JEROME FENwICK's CURE.
"Don't 60 out tonight, Jerome-stay with
me Oh, Jerome, It's lonely when you're
awavw The little kitchen had been swept
and secured until every board glistsned like
polished ivoTy-the red m0reen curtains
were drawn over the tiny paned windows,
and the great chestnut logs in the fire. place
were singing and simmering and bursting
into scarlet sheet flames, with capricous
alterations. There was no costly frescoes
on the waHs-merelY cheap paper, where
gigantic pink roses burst into an unaccount-
able bloom among the green tendriIs Of
s-..f pea vine; but the wooden clock was
framed in the coral berries Of the bittersweet,
and a little Christmas cross of hemlock
sprgs and black ivy yet hung between the
two windows, while Rosa Fenwick's monthly
roses and scented geraniums tossed their
delicate blossoms among the red peppers and
punches of psnnyroyal and catnep on the
smoke brown mantle above the chimney.
For Rosa, our heroine, was nothing more
dignifed than farmers wife. Aye, but a
farmers wife, in this nutmeg state, is, il
I
popular sovereignty-and Rosa was as tit to
wear the royal robes as any princess Of the
blood. She was quite ta'l, With pale brown
hair, and eyes Of the plain vivid blue that
puts you in mind OF sunshine after rain,
while the delicate color of her cheek fairly
rivaled the monthly roses above. Her dress
was very PLAIN and simple-a dark brown
calico, ruffied r. the wrists, and relieved by
a narrow linen collar with tiny black apron
tied trinity around her graceful waist.
jerome Fenwick was a tall, stalwart
young fellow, Of some seven or eight and
urging
s'Stay with me this evening-onIy this
once -
"Nonsense, Rosa how ridiculous you
are. A man can not stay at home for
ever"
"But you were out last night and the night
before"
"Well, what then Now, my love, you
don't see how absurd it is to expect me 70
be always dangling at your apron strings /
tell you am going down to the Colun-
bian, to look at the papers and talk over the
news.o
$50 the Columbian r. echoed Aunt Try
phosa Fenwick, suddenly appearing out Of
the subterranean depths Of a trap door, very
la ghost upon the stage, only that she
bore plate Of glossy red apples in one
hand, and brandished formidable knife in
the other.
Ah-h-h you're gong to the Columbian,
be ye, jerome Penwick.
"Yes, am, and what then 2" returned
. the young man, q spice OF sullen defiance
plainly beginning u .nin1is with The r.aytEl
tone he had previously assumed toward his
wife.
Sand s'pose you're coming back stupif-
der nor fool, as you came last night or
p'rhaps you're coming with Peter Stry ker at
your heels, as you came last week pretty
doings, these, for feiler that hain't been
married q year yet ]"
"Dear Jerome" pleaded Rosa, looking up
through sparkling tears, S'please do not 60
out tonight"
"What dye s'pose you're comm to"
went on Aunt Tryphosa, digging away At the
apples spitefully, as If every one had been
modern Marsayas, and specialized Apollo ;
"p'rhaps you have forgot how Pnkangton
! froze to death, year ago come February,
with the snow two teet deep on the ground.
He'd read the papers and talked over the
news And mebbe you don't remember how
JOSIAH Hopkins went on in the delrious
tremens last June, all along O. that same
Columbian He hadn't no purity young vile
at home TO cry her eyes out arter bis good
ior nothin' bones, th0ugh-JosIah Hopkins
hadn't. Oh !'' calculated Aunt Tryphosa,
emphatically, 81 wish the Name Law was en-
forced. Better stay at home, jerome Fen
mack afaro had comes a y
Jerome's brow flushed and mis- face became
crimson.
Il shall do precisely rs | please, Aunt
Tryphosa. Where's my hatr"
"Tain't for myself Pm speakin'," went
on the wrathful old lady, suspending heI
knife in mid-air, Tho you may be my BROTH
er's son; it's for. Rosa. Do you s'pose she
hain't got no feelin' when you come hom'
night after night, as intoxicated IS fool
Good land o. Goshen II | were Rosa, Ii
20 down to the Columbian, too and drink
along win you. She's got jus good !
rignt be be fool as you have. 1.0w'd YOU
like that, Jerome Fenwick ~
He went out, giving the unconscious dool
bang that made the cat start in her coy
corner Of the bright red brick hearth, and
brought q fresh torrent OF tears TO Rosa
blue eyes.
son, Aunt Tryphosa," she sobbed, hiding
Der flushed face among the apples In Ia,
good spinster's lap, what shall we do 2 Ill
is being ruined, and IL have NO power Il
hold hun back.'
"Sarve him right an obstinate fool 7
muttered the irate old lady. Yet even whil'
the words were on her lips, the bonY finger
carcssed Rosa's hair with strangely hvlDI
touch.
| "For your sake, Rosa am yexsd 70
your sake, my pretty one"
'sff / had bHt known; yet he was 20 dif
ferent in tae days when we used to take ou
twilight walks-the days before We wer
married My husband = drunkardi On
Aunt Tryphosa! | would sooner We wer
both in our grave"
"Don't taIx SO, pet, /" murmured Aant Try
phosa, taking oil her dim spectacles 'sTh
Lord knows what's best for all, but
"Hush !" calculated Rosa, springing to be
feet 81 hear the gate click Aunt Trypho
50, be has thought better Of il be has com
back 70
No; the slightly, fair, almost girlish-look
ing young fellow in the lieutenant's uniform
was not jerome Fenwick-and there was
touch Of bitterness even in the welcomin
tears that isosa poured out on the breast q
the soldier brother she had mot seen for thrs
long years.
"Hallo 70 exclaimed Charlie Warner. ssWh
thought you were 10 happy, Rosa. An
where's my new brother-in-law 2"
"He isn't at home," sobbed out Ross
"Oh, Charley, am very, very miserable r.
"Well, this u . queer welcome |" quot
the lieutenant, sitting down In front OF Il
blazing chestnut logs, and drawing Rosa npo
his knee. Now, puss, tell me all about IT,
and somebody hold my hands tight, for
, feel very much like giving my unknow
/ brother-in-law q thrashing before | kno
: nything Of the merits Of the case"
swell, reckon its about time for me
be moving,n said Jerome.
Al Now Jerome Fenwick was none the w0r
: -