The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1880-06-25

other thought, at sight of those lovely
fearful eyes and that sweet wistful face)
what wonder, I say, that he " Thought
Of her by day, and dreamed of her by
night?''
But to go back. Dorothy came smil-
ing into the kitchen, her lips and cheeks
as red as the currants she carried; but
the smile faded away when she met her
aunt's irate gaze
''Did you cut this loaf, and then leave
it here in this hot room to dry to chip %
demanded Miss Cross; and then she
added, emphatically, without waiting for
an answer: ''But of course you did.
No one else would have dared to do it.
And how dared you, knowing that
never allow bread to be cut in my house
until it is at least day old?"
Il am sorry, aunt" began Dolly;
"but he looked SO hungry
"He!t" screamed her aunt regarding
her with look of horror. ''You gave
it away, then! And to sher A tramp,
I've no doubt, who will come back some
night, to rob the house, and murder us
all"
''Please. aunt" entreated the young
girl, "don't be SO angry. He wasn't a
tramp; indeed he wasn't; but hand
some young fellow with long golden
hair"
ga wig, snarled Miss Cross.
"And the most beautiful blue ewes. z"
Dolly went on, IT ever saw in all nv
life And he wasn't near the house.
And he didn't ask for anything. Oh, do
listen, aunt, while I tell you all about it.
[ was on my knees in the path, picking
up some cu1rants I had let fall, when
saw him, through the hole in the hedge
Brownies calf made the other day, COM
ing slowl y up the lane
eff you had been looking at what you
were doing, you wouldn't have seen
him, - said her grim listener.
"He did't see me, of course" said
Dolly =" or I shouldn't have looked at
him SO intently. And, oh, Aunt Lcrinda
it was just looking at picture!"
Stuff said Miss Cross. S
$ He was SO handsome, and so dusty
and so shabby, poor fellow! And he sat
down under the old tree. took crust Of
bread out of his pocket and began to eat
1t as though he was very, very hungry.
Zh0t went to my heart"
Rubblsh!'' said her aunt.
"And got up softly and ran into the
house, and cut slice"
GA slice! Great grief!' interrupted
Aunt Lorinda. A piece big enough
for the breakfast of whole family. -,
"And I buttered it. %
"You buttered it."
Yes aunt; I only took the butter that
was left in the dish.?' @
Half a pound! You go without
butter for week.
"And [ ran out again, and into the
lane, as fast as I could" continued Do
rothy, apparently undismayed by this
threat, for fear I might lose courage;
and stopping suddenly before him, I put
the bread in his hand, and said, I am so
sorry for youp and turned to run away,
when he seized my hand and kissed it,
miss Lorinda Cross became rigid as
marble) and said, These are the first
kind words I've heard since I came to
this beastly country. Tell me your name
little one Dorothy Waldo, said /.
Dorothy Waldo, he repeated; I shall
never forget it, and he raised his hat and
went away. Dear aunt, had you been in
my place, would you not have done as
did?'
81 p cried Aunt Lorinda-ss I carry
meals to strange men on the public high
way? [ let a foreigner who called my
country a beastly country kiss my
hand? No, indeed; he never would
kissed my hand.
"Perhaps not, said Dolly, with 4
momentary twinkle IN her eyes, and then
she added, pleadingly, But don't be
angry any longer, aunt. I'll make an
other loaf of bread right away"
"But that won't bring back what YOU
have wasted said her infexible rela-
tive. a" "A pretty wife you'd be for a man
who hasn't q dollar to call his own, civ
ing away bread by the loaf and butter by
the pound . Miss Cross had retained at
least one womanly trait-a slight tenden-
cy to exaggeration) to all the thieves
and tramps who happen to come along. /"
Oh, aunt !" exclaimed her niece !:
g he looked like prince
"a prince with a snort of scorn.
" Your head is turned by that trashy
poetry you read A prince A likely
story shabby clothes and nibbling a
crust A disguised burglar, in nv opin-
ion. But burglar or no burglar, f" she
continued, it must be confessed with
some lrelevancy, & you shall never mar
ny man who hasn't dollar to call his
own, with my consent, and if ever YOU
marry without my consent you. make d
Liar OF your mother in her grave. =
Aunt, I have told you again and
again, 7 said Dorothy, firmly but gently,
" that never would. I have not for
cotton my mothers last commands
'.I'hen don't be encouraging that Dan
lei Howell to meet you every tack and
turn; and if you must have some one to
walk home from church with you-T can
go and come by myself, thank heayenl
there's Arthur Brown, and he, has a
thousand dollars in the bank"
But, aunt, I've known Dan SO LONG.
and he is away SO much, that when he
IS at home feel as thought mean. I