The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-01-04
"To morrow, sur" said Mike. 90,

pear the noise women make Wu0u bu0W To
putting house to rights, as they call it,
and if I can't stand it after we come
back, why, I'll pull up stakes and go for
good, that's all"
Wis, SUI" said Mike.
When Miles Guernsey and his man
returned from the fishing excursion,
Miss Osborne and Miss Osbornes mother
and Miss Osborne's maid Of all work
were installed in Rose Cottage, and,
sure enough, the first sounds that
greeted the ears of the fishermen were
the pleasant tinkling of the guitar and
an equally pleasant voice singing an old
fashioned love song-not out of time,
however, and decidedly in tune.
And the very next day a small dog,
after shifting curiously about on the
outside for while, squeezed himself
nearly flat, and, crawling under the front
gate, frisked gayly over the tiny lawn,
and from thence up to the porch, where
sat the lawns owner reading the news
paper.
The intruder was bright-eyed little
terrier, slightly lame in one Of his hind
legs, and he proceeded to caper about
the old bachelor as though in him he
recognized an early but long-lost friend.
"Mike 70 shouted Mr.. Guernsey.
"Sur |" shouted Mike, running out
with a potato in one hand and knife1n
the otheR
"Remove this dog"
"Ramove it is, sur, said Mike, drop
ping both knife and potato.
But 'sthis dog" clearly objected to
being removed. He skipped MIN
bly, around, barking all the time in a
"what larks p manner; darted under
the garden chairs; got entangled in
woodbine that was climbing to the roof
of the porch, and tore it down; seized
the knife Mike had dropped, in his
mouth, and made off with it; and the
"widdy man." making after him,
slipped on the treacherous potato and
came down with whack.
"This thing must be stopped 0t
once" exclaimed Mr.. Guernsey, set
ting his broad brimmed hat firmly upon
his head, and grasping his cane. Out
of his own gate he marched in the most
dignified style, along the path, through
the rose-crowded garden, to the door Of
Rose Cottage. ct want to see your
MISTRESS" he said to the black-eyed
maid-servant who answered his ring.
(which ?" asked the girl.
"Whats" retorted Mr.. Guernsey.
"Oh thought p'r'aps you didn't
know the old lady's laid up with rheuma-
tiz'-got cold moving. Will Miss Os-
borne do?"
anybody" said Miles, walking into
the parlor, as she threw open the door.
Evidently Miss Osborne was extremely
fond of roses. The white muslin cur
tains we're Topped back with sprays of
haf-opened ones vase filed with them
stood on the center table; and on the
hearth lay shells from which they
peeped, and vine that ran up the win
dow outside had been coaxed through a
broken pane, and hung, heavy with
sweet white buds, over the picture of a
handsome. young man in the dress of a
clergyman. The guitar leaned against
the arm of cozy, old-fashioned crimson
sofa a hanging shelf of books occupied
one corner of the room i q mirror, whose
furnished frame was almost hidden by a
pretty arrangement of autumn leaves,
hung in the other. "Humph! she's
got some taste" said the old bachelor to
himself, and began, without knowing
why, to wish he were at home-in fact,
was meditating an inglorious retreat,
when the old maid entered the room.
Tall, graceful, with chestnut brown
hair parted simply over a frank, IN
wrinkled brow, and gathered into a
silken net at the back of her head !;
honest gray blue eyes that looked full at
you arched eyebrows two shades darker
than the hair small, straight nose !;
cheeks little faded, but still throwing
out pink roses on occasion lovely
mouth, with the faintest suspicion of a
shadow at the corners, which was in
stantly lost in a sunshiny smile.
"Our neighbor, Mr.. Guernsey, be-
lieve ?" she said, in remarkably pleas
ant voice.
"Yes," replied Mr.. Guernsey, blush
ing violently (the idea of it F.! an old
bachelor, 45 his last birthday, blushing
because an old maid looked at him D,
and, having uttered this monosyllable,
he dropped his hat and put his cane
through the crown of it as ne stopped to
pick it up again. The hat in his hand
once more, he went on: "I've called to
see if you--that is, your mother-I
mean both of you, Of course In fact,
with sudden inspiration, /" I came to ask
if you would like some trout just out
of the water yesterday"
cob thank you; you're very kind, "
said Miss Osborne. little surprise in
her voice, and a puzzled expression in
her eyes; and at that moment Mixes
rough tones broke in from outside:
GIVE got him, boss, an the divil's
own time I've had to ketch him. Bedad
he's the liveliest lame dog I iver met in
me loife, an he's putt down the other
vine an"
Good day." hrrriedly said "the
boss, flying before the old maid ques-
tloning looks, and spinning off the stoop
with such impetus as to almost knock
down his faithful retainer. ''Shut up,