The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1878-11-21

them; but [ refused He tried to bride /
me with gold; I still refused. Then he I
said he would do the deed himself, and
one dark night he came and took the /
babes from me.
| had grown to love the little Great
ures, and | followed him. He carried
them down to the brink of the black
river, but his heart failed him, and he
could not throw them in. He laid them
down side by side in the cold, black
mud, and turned and fed.
81 gathered them up, and hid them
and myself in the great city That was
six years ago. I have done the best 1
could for them ever since-havent I, /
Tom and Nan?'
1.-The two children standing together
by the hearth replied with one voice,
Yes, granny
"Berenice looked at them, and again
the boys fearless eyes thrilled her heart
to the core, but, with an effort that was
almost superhuman, she kept down her
emotion.
"'Why didn't you make an effort to
restore the children to their mother?'
she asked.
cay, why didn't I?' repeated the old
woman, striking her skinny hands to-
gether. Because I feared him. [ had
feared MIN all my life, and [ couldn't
throw the yoke off. J. dreaded to 60
back to America, and I hadn't money to
carry me-and didn't care to part with
the children. We got on snug enough
till fell Ill, and now I'm dying, and
they'll be left alone in this great wicked
city. You look like good Christian
woman she added, a wistful prayer in
her eyes. Will you look after 'em
when I'm gone? They're good chill
dren, and maybe you may hear of their
mother. If you should ever hear of
her, try and find her, and tell her the
story I've told you; she'll believe a dy-
ing womans confession. However, if
she wants proof, I've got it. Mani
"The little graceful girl, her face
looking out like primrose from a wild
cloud of unkempt hair, came forward.
go Go to the little box under the bench
yonder, and fetch that bundle
"The child obeyed, while Berenice
sat shaking in every limb from re-
pressed emotion.
So Here's the clothes the twins had on.
and a little trinket that was round the
girls neck explained the old woman,
as Nan deposited a faded package on
the bed. I've kept 'em all these
years
Berenice could contain herself no
longer. She flew at the bundle with a
wild cry. a.u@
"'Oh, they are mine, my own pre-
cious children!' she cried, as she tore it
open, and her eyes recognized the IA
mlllar little garments her lost babes had
worn-'my own children; God has
given them back to me at last
"Then the room reeled round. and
she tainted quite away.
: The soft touches of child's hand
restored her to consciousness some time
later Nan was smoothing back her
hair, sobbing meanwhile as if her heart
would break, while Tom looked gravely
at the bed where granny lay dead.
g" She's dead he said, as Berenice
looked up; granny's dead
:" But you have found your mother,
my children! cried Berenice, opening
her arms. ooh, come to me-Tve
wanted you SO long. Oh, Tom! oh, Nan!
am your motherr
"And they crept into her arms and
wept out their childish sorrow on her
bosom.
*
"Twelve months later, and, on the
night before Thanksgiving day, Bere-
nice sat watching beside her sleeping
children.
"She had returned to her own coun-
try, and to the handsome city residence
which had once been her uncle's home.
"Side by side, in their dainty bed the
twins slept, and their mother sat and
looked at them, and listened to the
clamor of the wind and rain. Just such
a storm had ragged eight years gone by,
on that terrible night when her babes
were stolen from her. But God had
given them back to her; yet, while her
bosom swelled with tender gratitude.
tears ran from her eyes like rain.
Where was the father of her babes?
Never, since the hour when she saw him
on board the out-moving train, had she
ueaid OI Hln. was ne Qead! or nad
he utterly forgotten her?
Year after year, month after month,
day after day, she had watched and
waited for his coming. Surely he will
come; and, in her youth and her beau
ty, she had no thought for other men,
no care for anything in all the world
but him, the husband she loved. But |
eight endless years had gone by, and he |
was still a wanderer.
Hope died in the bosom of poor
Berenice that wild night, as she sat |
there, watching her sleeping children |
and listening to the voice of the storm.
God has given me back my chill
dren,' she said, but I shall never see
their father again
"And she bowed down her head and |
wept in heart broken despair.
Tn the midst Of her oriof her wait |