The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1869-06-17
GLOW did he save your life ?" I asked.

oel "Well, you see, l was telling you a
rs about it." she resumed, when you aske
d for Eugene, and l had to present hi
Le to you honor. Bnt shure enough it We
o Eugene, and no one else, that saved m
+, life that night I was telling you of whe
d father died. found him cold and sti
d in the bed when came home and ha
e nothing in the house myself-no meal, no
, bread, nor potatoes, nor "a ha'porth; so
l. lust sat down on the bed near him, an,
s l-God forgive mel prayed that b
D would take me too for was helpless AM
r sorrowful, and weak and down hearteC
: with the hunger. And then I began t.
: cry; and thought of mother, how sh,
had died, and now father was dead ant
} no one to bury him. And thinks /, if j
Idle too, the cabin will make a decent lit
tie grave over us all, and no one will know
anything about it!' So was crying on
thinking of all these things and wonder
ling how it all came about, when heard a
foot step at the door, and guessed at once
lit was Eugene's. So he never said word
| to me at first, but he sat himself down
beside me. And after little he says
What is it, Mary, dear? 'Oh, Eugene,
! says /, mother is, dead, and now father is
dead there he is before you, and I'm go
| ing to die too, for I'm broken hearted and
have had nothing to eat Eat this said
Eugene, and he pulled an elegant loaf out
of his pocket, Il guessed you came up to
look for me to-day; and when I came
home from the works, and mother gave
me my supper, just put it in my pocket,
as wasn't hungry myself, and came off
with it to you. SO eat it, Mary dear for
couldn't eat it if basketful of bread
was before mel Well, knew the poor
boy had stinted himself to give it to me !;
but I was well nigh gone, SO I just gave
him loving look, and says Eugene
dear, know well how it is but I'll eat
| it for all that for your sake, and for fear
I'll die before your face And SO I did.
And now, Mary says he, come home
with me, and mother will take careof you
for bit; and in the morning I'll come
out and bury your father for yon.' And
sohe did-the brave boy that he is, shy
as he looks before your honor now. And
we dug the grave between us, and put
father into it, just as he was-for we had
no cofin-where would we get one that
year and we laid him beside mother.
And when the great day comes, sure
they'll both rise together as well as if
they were in coffin of goldw s. aaeHs
Again she began to weep; but it was of
short continuance this time. dia
astAnd now, won't you put Eugenes
name in the book +? and we'll go live there
again, for it's hard to keep him away, and
he is always pressing me to 60 with him
to the priest. And we've puta new coat OF
thatch upon the little cabin, and maybe
Cod would be good to us, and the bees
would thrive, and the hungry year may
never come on us again"
It was hard to resist such an appeal
especially when so easy an actwould make
a young and attached couple happy But
when / reflected upon the prcspectsin life
upon which they were about to marry
nothing but few acres of worthless
heather, the cabin and all attached worth
only seven shilling and six pence year,
and fit for nothing but to feed bees-I felt
that in granting her request | was only
perpetuating the very system which had
killed her father and mother; and, if ex-
tended now again, could not possibly lead
to anything but the utmost want and
misery. To think of this noble youth and
innocent and lovely maiden-such hand
some, loving couple as they were-squat-
ting on this miserable plot of irreclaima-
BILE mountain side could not bear to
think of it, SO / resolved, if could, to
save them from so unworthy fate.
"Well, Mary, I have heard all you have
to say, and would gladly do anything
in my power to serve you and Eugene, but
cannot bear the thought ola handsome
girl like you, and fine, manly boy like
him, settling down for life on this misera
BILE patch on the side of barren noun
tain. I am thinking it would be far
better to try your fortune in America
together, and go out like the other emf.
grants, so many of whom were pressing to
get their names down to-day" e
/ Mary was silent for little. At last she
said:
swell your honor, have often thought
lit would be better-shure enough-to try
our fortune in America, than to marry and
settle on that small patch of barren land
!. where my little place is; but I couldn't
bear to think of going out on charity as
la pauper. | never yet got poor relief
from the workhouse and wouldn't wish
to go to America with the likes of the
emigrants your honor is now sending out.
II understand your scruples," I replied
$50 will propose another plan. What do
! you think if Eugene were to go out first
, just for one year-and see whether the
country would suit you and hims Let
him return at the end of the year and, il
he does not like America, then will put
: his name in the books as tenant for your
own little place, or probably shall bt
able to give you and him better farm by
:, that time"
, Iwould be 10th to part with him for
: whole long year," said Mary Hooking
lovingly upon the bashful Eugene "bu