The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1882-06-16

lazily In the cage, and without, above
the waving line of the wooded ridge,
the December sunset glowed.
Kathie began torip the loosely stitched
seams, her pretty, fresh face looking
sad and downcast. Aunt Grayson's
world wise talk had put her out of heart.
All her life she had been such brave,
sweet little soul. Left an orphan early,
she had lived with her grandfather, and
made his last days bright
you're dear child, Kathie; by
and-by, when you think Of being a
bride I'll give you wedding dowry."
He had said so a dozen times, yet,
after his sudden death one midwinter
night, there was no mention Of Kathie
found in the will, and so everything
went to Dugald, the son Of second
marriage.
Kathie did not complain, but it cut
her to the heart to think that grandpa
had forgotten her. She tried not to be-
lieve it; there was some mistake.
And when Dugald sold out the old
homestead and went off to America she
gathered up all the souvenirs and took
care of them. The old fur-trimmed
overcoat was one.
Then, lodging at her aunt's, she taught
the village children, and saved up her
earnings for her marriage day, for Charles
Montague loved her, and had asked her
to be his wife.
The wedding day was appointed and
Kathie was beginning with futtering
heart to think about making her pur-
chases, when her brother George fell i'll:
and, worse, fell in trouble. He was
rather thriftless man and had been I'M
fortunate; his little home was mortgaged,
and unless the debt could be repaid the
house would be sold over his head.
Kathie heard, and did not hesitate an
instant. Her hard earnings went to pay
the debt.
She did not regret her generosity
sitting there in the glow of the waning
sunset; she would have done the same
thing again. She did not doubt her
handsome high-born lovers truth, yet
her girls heart ached, and tears dimmed
her Clear, bright eyes.
It was bad to be cramped for little
money, and ones wedding day so near.
Her wardrobe was limited. She needed
a nice seal brown cashmere dreadfully,
and light silk or two for evening wear.
Aunt Grayson told the truth she would
look shabby in the grand rooms at Oak
lands, In the midst of Charles stately
sisters.
The tears came faster, and presently
the little pearl handled knife, with
which she was ripping the seams, slipped
suddenly, and cut a great cash right
across the breast of the coat.
Kathie gave a shrek of dismay
"There, now, I've spoiled the best of
the cloth, l can't get my jacket out; what
shall / do?"
Down went the bright, young head,
and, with her face buried in grand
pas old coat, Kathie cried as if her heart
would break.
Mrs. Grayson snored on the lounge,
the Maltese cat purred before the
hearth, the canary twittered, and out
above the wintry hills the sunset fires
burned.
Her cry out, Kathie raised her head,
dried her eyes and went on with her
ripping. Something rustled under her
hands.
"Why, what's this ? Some of grand
pas papers p
She tore the lining loose, and there,
beneath the wadding, was package
done up in parchment and tied with red
tape.
Kathie drew it forth. One side was
marked: This package belongs to my
granddaughter, Kathie.
"Why, what can it be ?" cried Kathie,
her fingers futtering as she tugged at
the tape.
At last the knot yielded, and she un-
folded the package. Folded coupon
bonds--a round dozen at least-and
thick layer of crisp bank notes. On the
top little note. She read It.
"My dear little granddaughter, here
is your marriage dowry. Two thousand
pounds. One day some fine fellow will
claim you for his wife. You are treas
ure in yourself. but take this from old
grandpapa."
sob, grandnapa, you did not forget
me |" sobbed Kathie.
A ring at the door startled her. She
looked out and saw her lover. Gather
ing her treasures into the lap of her ruff
fled apron, she rushed out to meet him.
Oh, Charlie, come in quick; Two
some wonderful news to tell youi
The young man followed her into the
drawing room, wondering what had hap
pened.
Oh, Charlie she cried, breathlessly.
holding up her apron, her eyes shining.
her cheeks aglow, tyou see, / am rich
I've found my marriage dowry. A min
ute ago was crying because I was SO
poor. | had to give George all nv
money, and I've only one silk, and had
to trim my old hat over, and auntie
laughed at me so, and said you would
feel ashamed of me. | was cutting up
grandpapas old overcoat to make q
jacket, and / found this; only see,
92,000i Oh, Charlie I'm SO glad for
your sake.
The young man bent down and kissed
the sweet, tremulous mouth.
"My darling" he said, his voice
thrilling with tenderness, am gladof
all this because you are glad. For my
own part would rather have taken
this darling little hand without shill-
ing in it. You need no dowry, Kathie
| you are crowned with beauty and purity
and goodness. In my eyes you are al
ways fresh and fair and lovely, nc mat
ter what you wear. love you for your
own sweet self, my darling"
Kathie let the folded coupons and
bank notes slip from her apron and fall
to the floor in a rustling shower.
"Oh, Charlie " she whispered. lean
ing her bead against his shoulder. "I
am so glad I"
"Glad of what, Kathie- grandpapa's
dowry 2"
"No. glad you love me for myself"
He clasped her closely, and at their
feet grandpapa's marriage dowry lay I'M