The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1875-07-08

out dress-coat, he searched in ccrpu-
lent pocketbook for small red ticket.
" Take that to the Poor Bureau. A
policeman viii direct you. Now be OFF.
Gottlieb turned away Curious freak
of destiny! AS Gottlieb, poor Ger
man, was thus dismissed, the attache,
also a German. was received with exces-
sive urbanity in the house he conde-
scended to honor. The trim servant,
Maria, ran out on the step after admit
ting the visitors, fumbling in her pocket
for pennies. Gottlieb had disappeared.
Half an hour later he found the bu-
reau, having twice blundered and missed
his way. The place was closed for the
night. He wandered on without pur-
pose to the corner. The bitter wind had
Iulled; the somber clouds, gathering III
dense masses overhead, promised the
first snow of the year.
Mr.. Gildwen, adjusting his napkin and
presiding over table ghtterlng with
silver and gorgeous with flowers and
light, was observing:
[" IF truf1es are not Indigenous In the
country, Count, they may be cultivated. /"
Gottlieb observed a church, massive
and dark, with slender shaft towering
far above the surrounding roofs. The
church meant cool darkness, silence,
purity, after the reeking streets, II one
could gain entrance. He tried the door
mechanically; it was locked. What
would you have? We cannot keep our
churches always open, even should a
fainting soul perish 10y the way.
Next he was caught in an eddy OF des-
perate humanity-the abject poor, the
sodden, brutal poor, all seeking the sta
ton house, eager to receive that last
stamp of degeneration on the coin
age of their own abasement, ii sleep
might only bring forgetfulness of misery.
Gottlieb shuddered and drew back from
the crowded entrance of building
which seemed to exhale painful famll-
arity with crime in every stone. He
could not throw himself into that stream
of pollution.
Afterward he wandered on, without
purpose, past rows of fine dwellings,
past hurrying people all intent on reach
ing home. Sometimes he held out his
hand for aims, but it was done so awk-
wardly and hesitatingly that few noticed
the movement. The way grew narrow
and crooked; he had quilted the spacious
| thoroughfare unconsciously, and now
tall houses, time-stained and dilapidated,
| lined the street. Gottlieb sat down on @
wooden doorstep to rest. Nobody dis
puted his right of possession. Laborers
came and went; work-women trudged
along; children played in the gutter.
Suddenly light form darted around
the corner, tripped, and fell almost at
Gottlieb's feet. Was it the CLEAN OF
golden hair escaping from little scarlet
hood, or the blue eyes, now anxious and
terrified, that made Gottlieb start with
the exclamation, Gretchen Color
had dawned in his pale face; he knew
his mistake even before the young girl
rose, nursing bruised wrist; Gretchen
was in her grave. The girl regarded him
sullenly, almost wildly, and when he laid
a hand on her arm she darted away again
as if fearing capture. Her rapid flight
was impeded by an old woman carrying
basket of apples and oranges, which
were spilled by the shock of contact.
'sAin't yer ashamed, now, an for an
old body, too?" said the woman, whose
name was Mother Bates. The girl hest
tated, then stopped to gather up the
fruit.
"Don't let her co. implored Gott-
lieb.
The girl looked from one to the other
suspiciously.
"He wants me to be taken," she cried,
with sob.
''You are like my Gretchen, and [
wish to help you," he returned, quietly.
Mother Bates planted her cane before
her energetically.
"Where are you going?" to Gottheb.
g I don't know" YEARLY.
"Where are you going?" to the girl.
"Away from the police, " with shud-
der and fearful glance around.
'tCome along, then"
They followed the old woman, these
| two waits, scarcely knowing why, and
the girl whispered to Gottlieb, CT am
Christine Carlen don't know Gretchen.
And what makes you SO pale 2"
Mother Bates lived at the top of a
tenement-house, and she conducted her
guests into small room with cheerful
hospitality. Already were five children
gathered here, sharp-featured, shrill-
voiced, and bearing that aspect of pre-
cocity peculiar to boys and girls Of the
city streets. They might have been
trained in worse school, certainly, and
the little room made sort of democracy,
of which Mother Bates was ruler, with
limited authority. The addition of two
strangers to their circle was taken as
matter of course by these small citizens
of the world only the baby stared at
Christine, attracted by the beauty of
gold hair, blue eyes and red lips.
With a tact Mr.. Gildwell could have
initiated, this Ignorant old woman,
taught by the goodness of her own heart
the only true instructor, indeed, In po
likeness asked no questions while serv-
ing a frugal supper. Few manifesto
tions of affection were exchanged in the
ho11cobo1J -o1t1,O11ob cb1.oxu1 Motb0T