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

as, once more on his own porch, he
picked up his newspaper again; but
bless me, who'd aDG2t to hurt q lame
dog ?"
A week passed away, during which
Mr.. Guernsey only caught occasional
glimpses of his fair neighbor, as she came
out into the garden among the roses,
with plain straw hat shading her face,
and tied with a bit of blue ribbon under
her chin. ST always liked blue rib
bon" sighed the old bachelor. "She
used to wear it" ssShe" was the young
girl he had loved some twenty years
ago, and from whom he had been sep
arated by the Vaccinations of has father
and her old maiden aunt.
All was calm and serene, when one
morning Mike burst into the library,
where his master sat, and gasped out,
"Thim lamb chops, sur, the diicate,
finder wuns I mint for yer dinner,
they're gone, an the burrid's most
frighted to death, sur, an no liss-or
may I niver shpake another wurrid-
than fourteen kittens in the wood-shed,
an all on account NV Miss Oshorne's
cat, the thafe Nv the wurrild.'
This certainly must be stopped at
once, said Mr.. Guernsey. "Give me
my hat, Mike" and away he went,
growing angrier and angrier at every
step. His lamb chops and no more to
be had until to-morrow-good gracious
And fourteen kittens gracious good
ness Ito say nothing of the canary in
fit, perhaps it's power of song scared
away forever!
He actually banged the gate of the
garden of roses but his anger, which
was up to ''butter melts at least, fell
to s. zero" when he entered the pretty
parlor. There sat the old maid, in a
low rocking chair, idly swaying to and
fro, dressed in a loose, flowing white
wrapper, without ruff1e or puff, with
golden hearted daisy in her hair and
another at her throat, and by
her side stood the lean, lank
cat with 8 squalling kitten hang
ing from it's mouth. "Poor Mary
Ami" she was saying; 'but where, oh,
where are the other" when she
raised her kind eyes and met the not-at-
all irate gaze OF the old bachelor. "Glad
to see you again, Mr.. Guernsey" she
said, in her frank voice, rising and hold
ing out her hand. "Mother is much
better, thank you''-in answer to SOME
rather indistinct query on the subject.
"Run away with your kittie" ito the
cat. "Not very handsome cat, is she,
Mr.. Guernsey2 Poor thing she came
to our door one cruel cold night last
winter, half starved, and with the tips of
her poor ears frozen off. I took her in,
warmed and fed her, and she wouldn't
go away again. To tell the truth. I
didn't try very hard to make her; and [
couldn't bear to desert her when we
came here, any more than I could Wait.
He and she, odd as it may seem, are
very fond of each other. But one
bad habit, I'm sorry to say, I can't
break her of, or haven't as yet-a result
IF her early vagabond life in the streets;
she steals" Then, suddenly noticing a
queer expression on the face of her
listener, she continued, eagerly, "I
hope she hasn't been annoying you in
any way2"
Straight into those child-like eyes did
Miles Guernsey look, and say, deliber-
ately, s. Oh no, not at all. I came to
ask if you-that is" Growing little
incoherent), "your mother-of course I
mean both of you-would like fresh
cucumber or two and some green pease"
with a flush of pride); elm ahead of
all the neighbors. He meant the pease
were.
GA thousand thanks" said Miss Os-
borne.
"Nine hundred and ninety-nine too
many" said Miles, actually smiling at
her. "Good- day" And when he re-
appeared in the study he had daisy in
his button-hole.
Mike came out of the dining room,
where he had been soothing the canary
with crisp lettuce leaf. "Well, sur 70
said he.
"Hang the birds cage where the cat
can't reach it, lock up the chops after
this, and drown thirteen of the kittens, +"
quietly said Mr.. Guernsey.
Mad, is it9" Mike soliloquized.
"He's madden nor fifty hatters.
"Good heavens! WhGt man in his
sober Senses" Miles Guernsey asked
himself, "aOould hwrt frozen cared
cat 2"
Summer passed away, carrying with
her the fragrant rose and thousands of
other beautiful flowers autumn, in
richly tinted rustling garments, gathered
the gold and brown and crimson leaves
to her bosom, and babe the earth fare
we'll /; winter came, and flung downy
snow-fakes upon and hung glittering
icicles from the roofs Of the cottages and
the naked branches of the trees-and
the neighbors had met dozen times.
But in that dozen times Miles Guernsey
had managed to learn principally from
the old lady, delicate, sweet-faced
woman, from whom the daughter had in
herited her pleasant eyes, that the pict-
ure of the handsome young man in the
parlor was the portrait OF Rosa's lover,
who had died fifteen years before in
foreign land, where he had gone for his
health. s'Rosa was well-nigh broken
hearted at first, ," said the old Lady but