The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-09-13

sell OuU WuGu liz dlu SUU CdDltd1 10
work it. The destruction of the poor
is their poverty, SO the Scriptur tells
U.S..
"Yes?" said Ben, his eyes following
Rosy on her way from the milking-shed
with two foaming pals.
Ben could hardly have told why he
staid on in Little Bassett from day to
day, whether the neighborhood of such
oil as must have burned in Aladdin's
wonderful lamp or the subtle persua-
sions of Landlord Cramm kept him
spell-bound in the rustic village, with
it's pretty river trickling to the sea, and
it's background of spicy woods, where
the tinkle of cow-bells seemed like music
blown from fairy-land. At least he did
not put the question to himself. He
had been making tour of the different
oil wells one afternoon, and, coming home
through the Bassett woods, he fell in
with Rosy.
CATER flowers ?" asked Ben. "Isn't
it growing dark? Hadn't you better
turn back with me?"
CT must find Jetty FIRST" replied
Rosy.
"And who may Jetty be?''
"Jetty is the COW she strays away
and gets lost in the woods. Last year
I couldn't find her till after 9 one night. :"
"And you were here alone at that
hour?"
1T was bright moonlight.
And supposing there had been no
moon? ?"
ct must have staid till I found her,
moon or no moon. Hark did I hear
her bell"
"Perhaps we may find her sooner to-
gether. May I go with you?"
eyes, I suppose you may" They
strolled on, the young moon casting
weird shadows and peopling the wood
with fantastic shapes; and sometimes
they forgot why they were there, and
sometimes a frightened bird brushed
the dew from the tangle, or the faint
melody Of a bell stirred the silence and
quickened their steps. 1t was after s
when they drove old Jetty home, and
Ben had been surprised more than once
by the speech that fell from Rosy's pref
ty lips She knew the old poets, whom
young ladies Of the period glisdain to
cultivate. She was at home with Scott,
and familiar with the tenets of the elder
theologians.
"You told me that you had never
been to school,, said Ben, "but some
body has taught you. There is no royal
road to knowledge"
eyes; Parson Psalter's wife taught
me to read and write, and she gave me
little presents for learning verses by
heart. She used to borrow me of Mrs.
Cramm to read to her when her dear old
eyes failed. Yes, and when she died
she left me all her books"
Ben was more than ever interested in
the subject of oil as the days went by.
He listened to the enthusiastic raptures
of Little Bassett, and was persuaded
that this was the tide which leads on to
fortune. So he staid on and on, learn
ing the minutiae OF this method of coin
ing money, helping Rosy carry her brim-
ming pals to the dairy, or bring the
butter-for Mrs. Cramm was not one to
allow milk to sour on her hands, what
ever the prospect which the oil we'll af-
forded. Ben had inherited a certain
sum of money from distant cousin,
who, with his child, had disappeared
from the sight of men years ago; now
he informed Mr.. Cramm he wished to
invest it in oil.
"I'll tell you what I'll do byye," said
that disinterested soul. "I've took a
mighty liking to you, and so has Miss
Cramm there's my we'll, I'm thun-
dering poor man, Mr.. Bates, and I'm
working it at a disadvantage. I'm aw-
fully in debt, to tell the truth. Tn
mortgaged up to my chin, and I don't
hev no peace for fear of a keeper in the
house, and a-being brought to disgrace
afore my neighbors- these women
folks to look after. Now, mark my
word, somebody's got to make fortune
out of that ere well, and I'd rather it
ID be you, Mr.. Bates, than anybody, as
it won't be Jim Cramm if you've got
the means you couldn't do better than to
take this ere elephant off my hands.
Thanks" said Ben. "I'll think
about it. Whereupon the merits of the
Cramm well were SO adroitly celebrated
that Ben began not only to think, but
to talk about it.
One evening, week later, when Ben
went to his room, folded slip of paper
under his candlestick attracted his at
tention. Thinking it might be a deli
cate fashion of Landlord Cramm to pre-
sent his bills in this way, he opened and
read,
Mr.. BArEs-Do not buy the g Cramm we'll u
You will be sorry if you do.
A KIND FRIEND.
Mr.. Bates smiled broadly. He would
show it to Mr.. Cramm at breakfast, and
have laugh over the device of some
rival striker; but morning brought
wiser counsel. Was it not woman s
hand Perhaps Rosy's; and, if so,
might it not deserve attention.? When
he went forth to smoke, after breakfast,
he encountered Rosy in the garden
patch, picking peas for dinner.
"Ah, here is my kind friend" he
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