The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1881-06-24
WAiF.
A STORY FOR BOYS.

school-books on the back steps, he sat
down beside them to morallze in a
gloomy way, and be miserable.
Eddie had sister named Rosy, who
coming along that way as he sat there,
almost stumbled over him, before she
saw him. Her face wore a happy look
till she saw his; then her own changed
expression, for Rosy could never be glad
or merry unless "buddie Eddie was too.
Quickly seating herself beside him she
waited for him to speak. Delicate little
Rosy! She would not ask, if he did not
tell her why he was SO sorrowful; she
would entertain him.
After little pause she said gently, II
came out here to watch for you, buddie
Eddie; the ice cream has come from the
confectioners, and 1t is to be just the
loveliest mold-twU doves kissing each
other; and mamma says, as it is only a
family party, you and I and the little
children shall all come to table with the
guests. !"
Eddie gave her no answer, only held
his head in his hands and looked for
lorn.
Didn't you know" she presently be-
gan again, "this is cousin Maud's birth
day, and she is to have little party here
tonight? See, I am all ready, for NAM
ma said you and I had best get ready
early and 90 stay with grandma till tea
time, and then she will come back with
us: she is all alone because aunt Susie
and cousin Maud are here helping mann
ma, and uncle Fred will come directly
here from his office; so you see we must
60 to bring grandma. Go get ready. I'll
put your books away and wait at the
gate for you.
When the brother and sister were 60
ing down street towards grandma's, Ed
die suddenly remarked, as if Rosy had
that moment ceased speaking. Eyes, ]
knew all about the party before you told
me; knew it this morning, and L think
birthdays ought to be Jolly days for ev-
erybody. / didn't think mamma could
refuse me such little thing. But she
did: she says can't have one of Jamie
Blake's little dogs, and he has already
given it to me; just the prettiest, smart
est little rascal ever saw. [ ran home
in hurry to make him house, and met
mamma running down to grandma's s, and
she said I positively must not bring o dog
home Now, sister, think it down right
hard. How can see Jamie tomorrow,
after taking his present, and have to tell
him I can't have it. tell you I don't
care cent about the party, nor the ice
cream nor anything"
Rosy knew now, but what could she
say? The case was beyond her powers
of consoling. So she gave long sigh,
that Eddie appreciated quite as much az
any spoken word, and the two went on
in silence till the bell had been rung at
grandma's door, and they went into the
parlor where she sat alone.
Like the children she was all ready fol
the birthday festival. Her hair, still
glossy and black, was crowned with q
tiny, dainty cap, which Rosy said she
felt she must wear, just because so many
children called her grandma Her dress
was her best black silk, aud the softest
and whitest ruches circled neck and
wrists The fingers that could never be
idle. were busy knitting white shells
that were to be made into quilt for
Rosy, and the little girl counted them
each time she went to grandma's, impa-
tient for the sewing together to begin.
"You look so lonely, grandma" she
said, as they went in. "We're come to
stay with you till tea-time; are you not
glade"
eyes, very glad; we shall have nice
walk together. But wasn't lonely; I
never get lonely. You see I have sc
much that is nice to think about, that ]
can't be-"
Here the good old lady looked at Ed
| die very hard for few seconds, but he
didn't see her, for without speaking a
word after his doleful sounding 'good
evening"" he had gone to the window and
stood peering into the street. Then she
looked at Rosy, who turned her wistful
face from brother to grandma, empha-
sizing each glance with sigh, as if to
say, "Cheer him up, grandma, do; else
| there will be no fun for either of us
tonight"
Rosys silent pleadings were under
stood, and with meaning glance al
Rosy, grandma said: "Well, Eddie, my
boy, have you been punished any more
at school for drawing pictures when you
should have been studying? / don't
want you to draw when you should be
otherwise occupied. But grandma is
sure You have decided talent for draw
ing, and You will make famous pictures
some day. [ want to describe one that
| You are to paint for me, when you get to
be an artist. It is one of the bright
pleasant scenes I like to recall. 1t hap.
| pened many years ago, but can see il
as plainly as did the night saw it in
reality. Come, sit down here by Rosy
and me and listen; grandma's stories Of
when she was young are apt to be long
but I'll try and make this one last only
| till it is time to 60"
| Rosy's face beamed with pleasure. as
Eddie, pleased with graudma's remark
about his drawing, turned toward then
! with real smile, as grandma began:
| "One of my friends, Mary Blake, had
cousin Annie, city girl who came tx
| spend the summer wish her in our coua.
try neighborhood. She and I grew tc
be intimate friends the very first yeal
| b1i6 tllu MIG WOulu
spend days at time ct our house. You
see we country folks didn't visit as city
people do. we knew nothing of such
calling as your mamma and cousin Maud
do; a day or night was as short time
as we girls ever stayed when we paid a
visit. One October day May and Annie
and I set out together about sunset fol
Mary's home, the distance being fully
two miles, and the way was partly through
enclosed meadows and partly along {
lonely country road. We knew we hat
tarried too late, and began to run up hill
and down dale at rapid gait; but We
couldn't make much speed on account Of
Annie. She was perfectly happy in the
woods; every step of ground had some
object which was attractive to her, and
never feeling of fear entered her happy
heart. First. she spied. shining even il
the dusky cleaning, tree OF late rec
| plums. and although out of our way, sht
must have some. Next, in going through
| little marsh she went into rapture ovel
the tall, waving swamp grass, with it
feathery heads of seed. A bouquet wa!
rapidly made for her of the various kinds
| then we climbed fence and were in thu
main road
81 do hope, now you will see nothing
more to stop for. said Mary, who wal
constantly hurrying Us along. But even
the bare clay bank of the roadside was