The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1874-04-16

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the planks of the pig-styc, and pulling
them down one by one. Such wilful
destruction Of property arrested his atten-
! ton. He pulled up his horse, and, when
bis amazement had somewhat subsidized,
looked curiously at the woman. A fierce
wind was blowing her ragged cotton
gown and showing her bare feet and legs.
She had neither Shoes nor stockings, her
long arms were quite brown and her face
was furrowed and old, her eyes sunken
and her hair streaked with gray.
Farmer Stokes, who knew her quite
well. and had often spoken to her as he
passed the cottage gate, lifted his hat and
slowly scratched his head; then he said
"Tain't the same woman," and drove on.
But somehow or other, as he said after
ward, he couldn't get her out of his mind
He began to recall the scattered informa-
ton of the last few months, and to piece
! was dead, and she was in the County
Court. He pulled up his horse again and
q feeling compounded of compassion and
curiosity induced him to turn and drive
back to the cottage.
He slipped the reins over the gate-post,
and went to the front door and kuocke ed
After some delay he heard footsteps
approaching. Mary had just one old
apron left, and she had instinctively
searched fer it and put it on before open
Ing the door. When she had done so,
and stood before him. it occurred to her
visitor for the first time that he ought to
have made up his mind what to say.
They looked at each other, and then he
began:
II haven't seen you about for a good
bit, Mrs. Allan,n your husband neither
so as was passing I thought I'd look in. ;
Mary did not speak. She expected
nothing but evil, and thought as he was a
church warden he possibly had power to
torment her in some way.
"How Is your husband?" said Stokes
who was really kind hearted, and was &C
tuated by dim desire of affording help
though it had not yet worked to the sur
face.
Every bad" replied Mary.
"He's had fever, hasn't hes"
ayes"
as he getting better"
"No."
A slight spasm contracted her mouth as
she answered; but she showed no other
sign of emotion.
"No-the doctor says 'e's dyin.' He's
in decline.
"Dear me, dear me. Why you'll be
pinched this long bout. It's months and
months since I've seen him. Is there any
thing you want, now? because I'll ask my
daughter just to step down and see what
she can do for you"
Mary had listened unmoved whilst she
expected reproof and possible menace
but the first words of kindness that had
reached her ears were too much. She
threw the apron over her head and began
to cry.
"There, now, don't cry. I'll come in
and sit down minute. Why, God bless
my soul, the rooms empty. Why, what
have you done with the furniture?"
HES got it," she said, with fierce
gesture, pointing to the village. "There
amt stick of it left-nothin' but old
mattrass as my poor mans lynn ON. An
I raid I'm il bill; but there amt no law
agen his taken the money, so as e can
swear e ain'l had it. And 'e amt left me
not 80 much as chair to sit down on
Come and see"
And she led him up stairs to the bare
rooms, and then down again to the little
back kitchen, where upon a mattrass
stretched upon the damp bricks, lay the
wasted form of the sturdy north-country-
man.
"Dear, dear. Why you'd have been
better somewhere else!''
"Mebbef' replied Allan, speaking in
gasps and at intervals; shut we couldn't
part at tne last. IT'S hard to go to die in
t. work'us. Landlord said as we mud
stay on" .
"Oh! [ didn't mean that. But you see
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