The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1875-07-29
IN A TUNNEL.

''That viii do nicely" said Ruth
Mayhem, receiving her last package
through the car window from Mr.. Per
kins on the platform.
Write us how you get along, Ruth.
Ii your aunt can spare you spell this
summer we'd be glad to see you hum
agin. Oh, my here's Miss Curtin with
a bunch of posies from her gardin.
Hurry hurry you'll be late, sure's the
world, Miss Curtin"
Thus spoke the group at the depot In
shrill chorus as the locomotive, every
plate FURNISHED and dazzling, which had
simmered quietly for some minutes.
started, imparting a jerking wrench to
the cars, and then the long snake of a
train gliG ed smoothly away.
She takes it first rate commented
Mr.. Perkins, wiping his brow with red
aOandana handkerchief
Then he climbed into his rusty carry
all, drawn by meek white horse: the
others returned along the village street
to resume their usual ayocations, and the
event of the day was over.
Ruth Mayhem had departed from the
home OF her. youth, and the place would
know her no more forever.
The struggle had been hard one. but
she bore it well as Mr.. Perkins ayerred.
She did not look at once at the white
house on the hill, where death had
robbed her OF parents and shelter, be-
cause even her fortitude could not be
trusted to witness the Smalls moving in
What was before her? Life with Aunt
Harriet IN close sick-chamber. slave of
sen 1nvalid's caprices and grateful for
DAILY bread Oh. the long. dreary
years, with nothing but old age in adj
Svazcei
she took a small pocket mirror from
her bag, and gazed pensiyely into its
depths. The reflected image was bv no
means unattractive. She was not as she
mad once been, yet her features were
good, her complexion fresh, her eyes
Clear, and her physique robust More
over, she was carefully and becomingly
attlred, and her chignon was of the latest
stEAea Nevertheless, sigh welled M
1S-Qm her heart when she gazed in the
glass, not altogether In unreasonable dis
satisfaction with her present appearance:
still the past had had disappointments.
and the future with Aunt Harriet was
without promise. Away back IN the WIS., |
TIA of summers she beheld herself a fam
ciful girl, building cloud-castles out of
the sunset glories One sprine-tine
was brighter and fairer than the others
around it still bloomed flowers of regret
full memories, blossoms without earthly |
.semblance in the cold, bleak climate |
where Ruth lived, because sprung from
the richest sources of humanity.
A brave young missionary had urged a |
needless girl to go with him to the hot
countries among the heather, and the
girl, to whom the world seemed q vast |
treasure house lavish of gifts, had fouted I
her young missionary, and he had silent |
1y departed without complaint, to return
mo more. Then Ruth had shed tears in |
secret, bitterly remorseful tears, and |
turned her back capriciously on the we'll |
sto-do farmers of her acquaintance.
- Got cinder in yer eye inquired |
a sharp voice In our travellers ear.
The latter awoke from her reverie with |
start, and turned to her questioner with
q guilty blush suffnsing her cheek. She.
huth Mayhem, of middle age, caught /
looking IN the glass Her interlocutor
was a brisk, bright little old lady In a |
faded shawl and an antiquated bonnet of |
the coal-scuttle pattern She carried on |
her arm black silk bag which seemed to
contain unlimited stores of snuff and
peppermint drops. Encirclino her with |
cred throat was a necklace Of beautiful /
gold beads deIcately wrought. These
beads, an heirloom in her family.
descending to her through long genera
tons, had been worn by her since early
youth, and so much of superstition was as
sociated in the mind of the possessor
with such relics, that the old lady would
have dreaded immediate misfortune had
she lost them. Such was her child-like
faith in her fellow-creatures that she
never dreamed of parting with her
treasures.
6 I can get it out quick as wink,
child" she continued, eagerly, settling