The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1878-12-26

oPAOe'et, e'iNA 1Oho o1ICII uGI OdluUy Orua-
ments that she used to value so, and
that now, at %, she was done with.
1t was a great white snow-storm,
though-a fierce, driving, drifting snow
storm-that wrapped earth and sky
when that day dawned, beginning the
eventful year. They would be friends
indeed who adventured through it. The
girls and their chosen companions, new
ertheless, were just as gay in the par
lors as they could have been in the sun
NEST OF weather, imagining arrivals,
and, when nobody arrived, receiving
each other in turn, as if there were
procession Of callers at the door. They
were none Of them so sweet, so willful,
SO charming as poor little Betty had
been; not one of them had the dark,
rich beauty that belonged to her yet;
they never would have the train of gal.
lants at the door that used to cross it's
threshold for Betty's sake. She won
dered what they found to laugh at in
all the wide sad world there was moth
ing at which she could smile; the very
blowing Of the gale, the whirling of the
snow and sleet through the white, cold
heavens, seemed only to answer her
own misery. She sat in the little side
parlor off the others, staring through
the window with her wild and wretched
gaze, though, for appearances, book
lay open in her lap. Her thoughts had
gone upon their long flight; and, after
the first CRATE and jar of it upon her, she
heard nothing of the laughing and twit-
tering, of the suspended music, and the
opening and shutting doors. The joy
BUSINESS of the day, like sunshine breath
ing through storm, was nothing to her ;
she noted none of the fragrance of the
flowers, none of the gay cries of the
echolng voices; her thoughts were
under that snow-heaped sod with Will.
1t seemed to her that if she could
only once see him, and see him alive,
the very relief would kill her; but, oh,
how hard it would be to go if he were
in the breathing world! She longed
for him back with fresh longing to
take the stain and burden off from
her; and then she longed for him
back that he might just put his arms
round her and take her, that she
might rest in his presence. Why had
she never loved him till he was lost i?
And now he would never know it.
ooh, Will, Will, Will" she cried-and
cried half aloud, all unaware-''if you
only knew how I loved you! II you
only forgave me-" And there the
words were stayed by pair of bearded
lips, the arms she had wearied for we're
about her, her head was pillowed on a
breast. Did the dead walk? Did the
grave surrender then? Had he come
from heaven to take her, to forgive
her? Was it Will-with her father,
with her sisters, crowding in behind
him? Had he never died at ALL but
gone back from hospital to sheep-farm,
and only come at last, drawn by some
wild magnetism in the strength of her
longing for him? The questions surged
through her mind as the snow-fakes
surged outside; and then it seemed that
he must be some great accusing appari-
ton, come only to destroy her; the
world was reeling blackly away from
her, and it was, maybe, nothing but the
kisses on her lips that held her firm to
life, that called her back to light and
joy in VIII Maunder's arms, on this one
New Years in thousand Harper's
Bazaar.