The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-12-27
JOE'S NEW-YEAR'S DINNER.

To have seen Joe Sterling stubbing
about the store of Mesers. Sampson &
Sturges no one would have suspected
him of being hero-a little, short,
beardless fellow, with peaked face, and
shoulders that stood out sharply wear
ing never a plume, nor scarf, nor slashed
velvet doublet, like the hero Of romance
and chivalry, neither epaulets and gold
lace like the military hero, neither
broadcloth and beaver like the gentle
saan hero Of the moral drama, but att
tired with severe simplicity in we'll
worn pepper-and-salt suit, that
pinched about the shoulders, and was
Goo short in the sleeves, his sallow COM
plexion effectively set off bya sky-blue
neclz-tie-a tie which Filkins, spruce
feliow-clerk, who supported dictionary,
had stigmatized as perennial" his
cuff-buttons not mates. Oh, but, Joe,
blessed be the world ON it's New-Year's
days, If it had more like you!
Who Joe was, where he came from in
the morning, where he went at night,
interested neither Sampson nor Sturges
nor Filkins. The latter had, one even
ing, invited him out to witness the pre-
.sentation of that glory of the drama,
rf"The Black Sheep" to be followed by
the side-splitting farce of The One
legged Shoemaker :" but Joe had po-
Etely declined, murmuring something
about duties that detained him at home.
Thereupon, Filk1ns had lifted his eye
brows, and made no more advances. He
mad never found young men with "du-
ties'' congenial companions.
By 1870, New-Year's morning, Joe
had completed his marketing among
the shops and stalls on Bread and But
Ter square, and, with his basket swung
ON his arm, had begun trudging home
ward. He kept sharp watch, as was
mis- wont, to left and to right, to see if
there was anything he could do for any
body. When one is on the lookout for
something of that nature, something
generally turns up, and it was hard on
to IL when Joe turned into that sloppy,
decayed old street, which he had turned
into regularly every night since he had
been in Sturges' employ.
He was growing dreadfully tired of
Mat street. It wasn't busy street.
Nothing ever seemed to stir in it, except
tired men and women going out and
coming in from labor. Nothing ever
went up On it +; nothing ever came down.
The old wooden buildings just gathered
o few more ichens, and sank little
from twelvemonth to twelvemonth. It
wasn't cheerful street. 1t sometimes
seemed to Joe as if all the tired, and
discouraged, and sick, and cross, in the
~city-all the people despairing enough
to be wretched, and yet not despairing
enough to give up kind of automatic
effort, had gathered themselves together
8here. Joe began whistling as soon as
he entered its precincts, and whistled
Justify, just as boys do who have their
courage to keep up, until he came along
side the decrepit wooden building that
held his "home."
Up two flights, and turning to the left
he entered small room, the atmosphere
of which was charged in about equal
proportions with the odor of moldy
wallpaper and of some kind of pungent
Eniment. A middle-aged, unhappy
looking man, with his feet and legs
stretched out on two chairs, reclined be-
fore the window. His gay dressing
gown was wrapped tightly around his
Body, and gray shawl was swathed
about his limbs and feet.
This was Joe's Uncle William.
Uncle William had been in his day a
~dashing young man, but he had dashed
just little too far, and all at once, as
sometimes happens in parallel cases,
found himself used up, body and soul.
Then, since nothing else remained to be
done, he had repeated, and found, to his
establishment, that the laws of nature
wouldn't work backward, even for re-
9pentant prodigals The almshouse i'm
pended. just then Joe, the size OF
whose heart was out of all proportion
with his pecuniary resources, had inter
posed. He had left pleasant boarding
place for detestable tenement, saddled
himself with burden which he was
likely to carry for life, and gone to house
keeping.
Uncle William, when securely estab-
Eshed in his three chairs at Joe's ex-
pense, had given himself unreservedly
80 brooding over his troubles and Ia.
xnenting his hard fate. His melancholy
gaze was, this morning, fixed out of the
window, and he failed to withdraw il
when Joe entered.
" Morning again, Uncle William,
said Joe, briskly. "It's been bit dull
mere for New-Year's morning; has it
eh?"
Uncle William, slowly turning from
&he window, delivered himself of a sounG
that might have been either grunt or &
sgToan.
"And you haven't found anything in.
Jeresting in the papers ?" continued Joe
looking down at the pile of periodicals
g I laid in literally for all the pictori
dds. hoping you would be entertained by
them"
Uncle William shook his head slowly
and trihe scornfully.
81 couldn't be entertained by pict-
zzEes, Joe; I've been rejecting"
"Then ! wouldn't reflect any more.