The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1876-04-20

overwork had broken his indomitable
spirit, and turned the rose-colored
dreams to On exceedingly geeenish-hued
nightmare.
The only patient he had had during his
months stay with Mr.. Shadrach was O
poor little work woman in the neighbor-
ing room, washed-out, timid, wretched
little creature, with scarcely enough
stamina about her to rally after slight
pneumonia. Her little fee had been
ready for him after every visit-in fact.
obtrusively ready, for it was out OF the
question, of course, to take the money.
6 It was merely neighborly service, :"
he had said, when, upon his fifth visit,
he found her up and at work again, and
upon his departure she had stammered
out something about his bill. 6 am
only toe glad, Miss-Miss-'
|" Turpin, she had whispered.
"To be of service to you, and beg
you will call me whenever my presence
is desirable.
Miss Turbin faltered out her thanks.
A burning blush chased the pallor out
of her face, as warmly he pressed her
trembling hand in his and babe her
good by.
"Poor little DEVIL" he said, as he
strobe away to the lecture-room. 1t
bad enough for great strong OK like
myself to battle with this grim old
grindstone of a world; but for mlsera-
BILE little waif like that-phew, it's mons
trous!"
He thought of her pityingly till he
Ii al - no
then gave himself up to the subject In
hand, which so engrossed his mind that
he forthwith forgot the existence of little
Miss Turpin. But she, upon her part,
repeated over and over the words of young
DIR. Blake, blushing again when she be-
came conscious of the fact thatshe really
had the temerity to dwell upon this
genial but commonplace courtesy.
Miss Turpin's work was delicate and
artistic, but not soul-absorbing, Like the
doctors. She could tint her photo
graphs all the better for this little cpl
| sode in her life. The vines and tendrlls
took tender shapes under her deft little
fingers shy, sweet melancholy helped
to make the shadows at least more and
more perfect I; under the rose-buds grew
the thorns but there seemed to Turk
even in their cruelty subtle, mysterious
charm. It was enough for Miss Turpln
to dream. The physical and practical
reality of the doctors nearness, perhaps,
had It's weight, but not consciously so,
to the little women. She never ventured
to get up cough or cramp for the sake
of stamping more clearly his shape into
these vague but extravaganza feats OF
fancy. In truth, so timid and afraid was
she of pulsation of practical joy, she
actually Stunned and shrank from its
approach.
But more and more imposing, grander
and grander, grew this one figure of her
| fancy, around which revOlved the satel-
lites of health and wealth, popularity and
fame-all that could render life sweet or
desirable.
Perhaps it is detrimental to my hero
inc to say that she would have been quite
content to have lived upon the fruit of
her own fancy for the remainder of her
natural life. Had circumstances COM
PEELED her to change her abode. and had
she thus lost sight of DR.. Blake, the
dreams would have gone along just the
same, the fact of his dying In a neigh
boring hospital of weakness and want,
and the quenching of all her material In
pauper's grave, not interfering in the
least with Miss Turpin's airy fabric. 1t
would have been impossible to convince
Miss Turpin that he could reach so dire
an extremity. had not the knowledge
been forced In upon her in way that
she could not refuse.
She absolutely heard the gruff voice
of Mr.. Shadrach upon the morning in
question, and the low, musical, but bit
| terly knocking words of the doctor In re-
ply.
She sat down upon the rug, and clasped
both her hands He, was going away,
then9 Until that moment she had not
realized the extent of such disaster.
She could have borne, perhaps, to have
been compelled to go away herself, be-
cause the inevitable for her had become,
long since, matter of course; but to
| have the iron hand of memorable neces-
sity grasp this young man was terrible.
He of the flashing eyes, the lordly mien,
the exultant step-for thus had little
Miss Turpin been wont to classify the
somewhat alluring personal attractions
of young Blake-he to become the prey
of adverse destiny
| Miss Turpin's breakfast, that morning,
was failure. By dint of long practice,
and an exceedingly gracious gift in
housewifery, she had always managed to
get up extraordinary little meals for her
self. It was as if little sooty angel sat
up aloft in the chimney and assisted the
culinary efforts of the lone little woman.
Her toast was of brown the most golden,
her coffee was of Mocha the most deli
cious, her bit of steak SO juicy and APP
petizing that sometimes poor Blake in
the neighboring room, with some chunks
of brown bread floating helplessly in a
chalky fluid before him, finding this sa-
worry odor under his nostrils, raised his
clenched hand at the stern wall between
them in envy and despair.