The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-11-22

the treasures of which they were de-
spoiled.
But those were not the greatest an
noyances. Every night her door-ben
rang, moved by some mysterious power.
It was of no use to wait in the hall, open
the door suddenly and dive out. There
was never anything to be captured but a
dirty piece OF cord.
One ever-to-be-forgotten morning
Miss Wing rose from her couch, pre-
pared her solitary breakfast, and called
the cat to get hers. For the first time in
eight years Tabby failed to answer.
She opened the wood-house door in fear
and trembling. There, suspended from
beam by one of Miss Wings own
apron-strings, was poor Tabby, stone
dead.
Pinned in the string was a dirty scrap
of paper, on which was written: Goat
erpifers compelmunts.
For the first time in many years Miss
Wing sat down In a low chair, threw her
apron over her head, and wept. Wiling
ly now would she have held out the
white flag if it would only bring back
poor puss.
Strange to say, from that very day
there was q cessation of hostilities.
Whether it was because they we're ex-
hausted and needed rest to think of
something new, or whether there was
really nothing left for them to do, Miss
Wing could not tell. AS days passed
on and no fresh mischief was done, she
gradually gave up looking for it, and
possessed her soul in quietness. And
now as she sat grim and solitary by her
kitchen fire. except for vague feeling
of bitterness as she looked at Tabby's
empty corner, she had almost forgotten
Caterpillar. It was quite shock to her
nerves, therefore, when her door-bell
was rung with violent jerk.
"That imp is at his mischief again"
she exclaimed. The ring was repeated,
but she paid no attention to it, and
finally sbufaing, irresolute step was
heard on the side stoop, followed by q
knock on the kitchen door.
"Corne in, y said Miss Wing, in a most
uninviting manner. The door was
opened slowly, and a colored man ap-
peared.
els you Miss Wing?" he asked.
ct be-"
"There's poor little mig up in tie
settlement, say he want to see you.
Folks call him Caterpillar. Dom know
he name?"
"What does the little scamp want of
me?"
"He mos gone, miss. He done got
gallopin' consumption.
"Pity he hadn't galloped off some
where before he killed my cat. I'd like
to trounce him." said she.
The man looked at her moment, and
then said solemnly: missy, dat chile
done got somefn on he mind. He axes
fur you de whole Dressed time; and, if
you's Christian woman, you'll go dar.
Good night, Missy"
Miss Wing shut the door, and sat
down again with her knitting. But
somehow the room was not as pleasant as
before. The fire didn't burn as clearly.
and her chair seemed very uncomforta-
BILE. She couldn't compose her mind.
Several very uncomfortable verses of
scripture would force themselves upon
her. In the little church over the way
she could hear them practicing their an
thems for the morrow Clearly and dis
tinctly out on the frosty air their voices
rang. Over and over she heard them
sing:
Peace on earth, goodwill to men.
She knew very we'll that she felt
neither peace nor goodwill. "I wish
they'd stop their noise," she said, as she
fdgeted from her chair to the window
and back again to the stove. Still they
sang on, louder and clearer, stirring Miss
Wing up in an unaccountable manner.
Her better nature was having terrible
struggle with the other, and, being much
smaller, was in great danger of defeat
At last she started from her chair,
snatched her hood and blanket shawl.
and started towards the door. Little
better nature had conquered. Miss Wing
hardly knew herself as she stepped out
into the frosty night. 1t was many
years since she had visited the sick or
gone out upon an erra1d of mercy. Such
charity as she had given had been like
throwing bone to dog. When she
reached the tumble-down house where
Caterpillar's mother lived and knocked
at the door, she heard shrin voice
pipe up.
"Dar she am, mamma mos know
OATS her." There was hurrying over
the floor, and noise as if stray articles
were being hastily shuffled into their
places. Then the door opened and Miss
Wing walked in.
"Bless us and save us p said she. Boil
stored up on a narrow cot was pitiful
little heap of skin and bones, all that
was left Of the mischievous Caterpillar.
He smiled feebly when he saw Miss
Wing, and held out skinny little hand.
e" Mos awful sorry done kill your cat.
Pears like I couldn't die 'out I tole
you"
"Never mind the cat. I s'pose her
time had come. What ais you, any
how? Be you hungry?"
He shook his head.