The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1879-05-22
HOME INTERESTS.
The Child-Poats of Sky Farm.


Among the presents given me upon my las
birthday, which was but a month ago. was a
little book of poems, written by two little girls
sisters. They called their collection of
beautiful rhymes and youthful thoughts, Ap-
pie Blossoms" The names of these Young
poets are Elaine and Dora Read Goodale-the
elder one, sweet 49," and Dora, the younger.
just Is years old
Their earliest poems were written at the age
Of years. They are no silly rhymes or mean
ingless words, but are like apples of gold in
pictures of silver"
Their home was in New England, and they
called the country seat Sky Farm"
1t scarcely seems credible that children so
young should have such mature minds, vet, in
referring to other authors, we find that many
were as young as these little girls. 1t only
proves the theory that Poets are born and not
made" Most anyone can write jingle or
rhyme, and what may be called machine poe
try" and the elegant bindings and gildings sell
many books that the world would be better
without will copy for your benefit one of
"Elaine's little gems and, if you like it. YOU
may sometime send for another! It is pleas
ure if we have anything good and enjoyable to
share with others
You see, girls, that our youthful poets lived
IN the country and loved nature, and presume
had their own little garden beds, and started
their own seeds, and watched with interest as
they peeped from the soil and gained a leafday
by day till the flowers came; and, from the title
OF their book. we imagine that the grand old
apple tree was the favorite of this New En-
gland orchard. And perhaps it was admir-
ing and breathing the sweet perfume of these
beautiful tree blossoms that prompted them
to say, we have put our own thoughts in verse
aud our verses in a little book, and call it for
our favorite." And, as Elaine was the older,
her poems occupy the first part of the book,
and it is about half and half, and they then
send it at1oat and it comes ashore, and one
came to me. | will give you description of
their window curtain, and we can imagine the
effect, and know they had q sweet little house
they could call their own. AUNT LUCY.
my WINDOW CURTAIN.-BY ELAINE GooDALE.'
Let others round their windows
Loop folds of fimsy lace,
And on the gauZy net work
Their clumsy patterns trace;
Shut out the glorious sunlight,
The breezes. hills and glades,
And, in the cleaning crystal.
Draw down their painted shades.
My own secluded chamber
On mountain slopes apart,
NV deity hidden loop-hole -.
Boasts no snch studied art;
IT'S but on windy mornings
In silver sheeted rains,
draw the blinds together,
Replace the tiny panes.
And yet no glare of daylight
My little nest invades.
No curious eye can spy it,
Or pierce its checkered shades;
ForI too, have a curtain
Of clearest deepest green:
More fine than satin damask
It's texture and it's sheen.
Fresh tendrils, closely clinging,
Its loose. light fabric bind
Anet of twisted branches.
bower of leaves behind:
golden CLEAN of sunlight,
breath of cooling air,
snatch of happy music,
Await my presence there.
Between the leafy arches
gaze on new delight,
On mountain slopes of grandeur,
On meadows daisy white:
Let others urape their windows
In silks and gauZes fine.
Of all their costly curtains
Not one can rival NINE