The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1882-01-20
RETRIBUTlON.

the ordinary little street boy that / first
stopped and looked, then addressed
him with aa
" Are you hungry, little boy?"
He then turned quickly, gave little
nod, and said laconically ::
lawful p
swell, suppose we 60 in there and
get something to eat ?"
The childs face frightened then he
besitated and said, obviously:
" Maybe mamma wouldn't like me
to-"
"Where is your mamma? How came
you here alone 2"
'"She's home, sick. I've ruined
away" and he looked up in my face
with big, brown eyes in which there was
a sparkle Of mischief.
Run away, have you? l am afraid
that is very naughty; won't your NAM
ma be anxious 2" ~
Oh, she'ssieIS, she's awful sick And
] aiPt had anything to eat to-day"
" Have you any brothers and sisters 2"
The little face sobered at once as he
said
S'No, only Eloise, and she's gone
away, and papa's gone away. and nam
ma says maybe she's going away, and
she don't know what'lI come of me.
Who is Elois5? Your sister,"
"Yes'm.P
".Where has she gone? Won't she
come back?"
No, she amt never coming back ;
they put her in little black box and
took her to heaven, and mamma cried /;
esaid she wouldn't never come back
again, and | haven't anybody to play
with now"
"Eloise The name had struck q
chord in my heart which awakened
painful memories, and while the little
fellow was talking my mind had strayed
back to years ago, and vision Of a
beautiful false friend rose before my
eyes. Suddenly | asked the child his
name
a" Edwin Alexander Anderson.
For an instant felt faint and sick.
happy wife and mother though now
am. That name brought back to mo q
time of wretchedness never to be forgot
ten, and I almost felt like turning away
and leaving the child--Ms child--to his
fate. But, thank Heaven the impulse
was only for a moment / knew now
why those brown eyes thrilled me so
but with the impulse to turn away came
whisper from my good angel: "Do
good to those who despitefully use you.
And, seeing the little fellow still looked
longinaly at the cakes, l took him in,
gave him some buns and glass Of milk,
and bag of cookies to take home; but
he could not go alone probably, if, as
he said, he had run away; SO / asked
him where he lived, and if he knew the
way home.
:" We lives now in No 10 Pine street.
but / dunno where It's"
| was not at all sure of the locality
myself, SO hailing an omnibus L re-
quested to be carried to my destination;
and then the awkwardness of meeting
HIS father flashed across me, till I recol-
lected no had said "Papa's gone away. -
- Where has your papa gomez"
= Hes gone to the dogs"
The answer was certainly startling,
snd Notwithstanding, or perhaps in CON
sequence of my nervousness, [ smiled,
and felt in my throat mingled incli-
nation to laugh and cry. Then I said
seriously:
What do you mean9 Who told you
that9"
"Oh, / heard man tell the doctor so
when he came to see Eloise, and found
1t in the big map-bOok mamma let me
have to muse me.
Found what 2"
isle Of Dogs that's where he's gone.
] guess he amt coming back" A little
pause, then III low, frightened tone,
- he's awful cross he made mamma cry,
be did"
I felt guilty of learning family secrets,
sol turned away from that subject and
said
" is your mother very i'll ?"
ooh, she's dreadful sick ! She coughs
and coughs, aud spits up lots of red
splits; it's awful !"
Poor Eloise, the brilliant beauty, was
indeed dying looked down at the lit
tie boy in his shabby clothes, and I re-
membered the elegance of his mothers
Nttire when we were girls together re-
membered, oh, so well But + was awak-
ened from my painful revery by my lit
tie companions exclaiming:
Here we are
paid the driver, aud we got ont and
mounted three flights OF stairs in shah
by lodging house. He opened a door,
and there, lying on stretcher, with a
hard mattress, was the wreck of the
brilliant beauty had not seen for ten
years, and who, but for the child,
should never have recognized. Not SO
with her, however as the door opened
and her child entered she held out her
hand, saying in low, breathless voice
NJ" Eddy dear, where have YOU besn?
Then she raised her eyes, and, seeing me
standing in the doorway, she turned
deathly pale, and, throwing up her
hands, said, wildly: ooh. God, she
has come, she has come Alice, Alice,
forgive me! 1 am dying now
Forgive her? Yes, with the grim
shadow of death hanging over her
could not do otherwise. / went to the
bedside and took her hand.
al am glad to have found YOU.
Eloise; all is forgiven"
could say no more the poor, thin
face, feverish eyes and shrunken form
made my heart ache. She raised her
self up, and, clutching my hand, said
" Listen, Alice, / am dying. 1 mus
speak now; my punishment is from
Heaven; he has left me. You are re-
venged, and my little girl has gone. and
he pointing to the boy" the image
of his father, viii soon be alone, all
alone My father and mother and sister
are all dead, and his father-I do not
know if he is living or dead, but he
should not have my innocent boy to
ruin. Oh, Alice, you look the same as
ever; will You take care of my boyP"
For aninstantI recoiled; / take Edwin
Anderson's child to my house to live
with my children2 1t seemed impos,
sible; but those large, wistful eyes were
fixed on Inc / must answer.
] will find home for him, Eloise. -
"You will not take him yourself.
AliceP" And she raised herself up, and