The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-01-04
Out of the Dark.

Out OF the DARK
81 do wish father'd comet" said little
Mrs. Knowles, laying down the sock
she was mending and crossing over to
the window that commanded view of
the street up which her husband could
not reasonably be expected for good
two hours.
''Night's setting in early, and pitch
dark, too; not sign of any moon, and
I shouldn't wonder if it stormed. The
airs felt like it all day." She held the
curtain aside with one hand and shaded
with the other her anxious blue eyes
that were strained out into the growing
dark CT hope Henry won't get wet.
Poor fellow!"
She let the curtain fall, then drew o
chair, over which hung a merino dress
ing-gown, closer to the fire, which she
stirred vigorously, pulled the tea-kettle
over to the front lid OF the Stuart,
waited minute to stroke the side of
Maltese cat-a huge, handsome fellow,
whose right to the chintz- covered lounge
nobody ever thought of disputing then
she went back to her mending.
"You're a good wife, Mary" said
Grandmother Reese, Mrs. Knowles
mother, who had seemed too occupied
in taking up the stitches of heel just
bound off to hear what her daughter
said or to notice what she did, but whose
keen eyes and ears saw and heard every
thing. GA good wife. There'd be
fewer bad men in the world if there were
more women like YOU"
edo You think so, mother9"
CT know So" grandma answered.
holding her half-sock up to the light and
trying to find the stitches. "And didn't
use to think you'd ever amount to much
as .'helpmeet to a man. You were
such a giddy girl, you know"
"But love Harry, mother, the blue
eyes Frightening in the lamplight, land
it seems to me that any girl with good
common sense to start with, and who
loves the man she marries, will do what
she can to help as we'll as to make him
happy At least-why, here, mother,
let me take up those stitches.
"Well, reckon you may, child. Ny
sight amt SO good as It once was. Hank
amt the wind blowing uncommon
hard?''
AS if for answer, a stormful gust shook
the windows at that moment and beat
upon the door till it flew wide open, let
ting in the snow and putting out the
lights.
"Deari dear exclaimed the old
lady, and "Dear! dear !" echoed the
young one, shutting and boiling the door
and then relighting the lamps.
"Oh, do wish Harry would come !"
Mrs. Knowles added anxiously. Then,
after q pause, in which her blue eyes
had been slowly filling with tears, edo
you remember, mother. that it was on
Just such night as this the children
went away !" she asked.
eyes, child, I remember it we'll.
How the wind came tearing out O. the
beech woods, with the binding, >eat-
ing snow a-burying up the fences.
"And mother" Mrs. Knowles voice
was very low and full of SORROW" do
you know it seemed the hardest thing
of all to me that the little white souls
should have to start out to the unknown
from the heart of SO terrible a night?
So lonesome for them, so-Oh, mother,
I don't know, [ don't know, but it seems
to me could have borne it better in
the daytime, with the sun shining, and
the blue sky full in sight! "
Good was in the dark and the storm,
my girl. Would he let the babies go
alone, do you think -
"No, mother, no. [ know that he
carried, and carries them in his bosom !;
but mine is empty-but for the pain !;
and it aches SO hard, so hard, mother"
CT know, I know, DEAR" Grand
mother was smoothing the brown hair
ripping over her knee, and her eyes
had PARKWAY look in them, as if their
faded lids were touched by the fingers
of some mournful memory.
And the old arms went around the
young neck, and the old eyes and the
Young wopt together III the silence-the
silence broken only by the hiss of the
kettle on the stove, the tick of the clock
on the mantel, and the feet of the storm
beating their wild way everywhere
without.
"Toot's so tired, sister, can't we sit
down just a tiny minute now?"
They were half way up the high hill
beyond which quarter OF mile stood
the warm, lovelit home of Harry
Knowles.
Such delicate little waits they were,
boy and girl, apparently sly and eight
years old, and their pale, pinched feat
ures told pitiful story.
''And Toot's so sleepy" the boy con-
tinued. eff you'll lie down with me
and hold me up close, asi mamma used to,
just five minutes, I'll go-oh-ever so
far!"
The girl hesitated, she was tired and
sleepy, too, and the storm seemed to
have taken all her strength. Her feet
were like sticks that would scarcely
obey her will and she had nearly faint