The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-02-09
AN UNUSUAL VALENTINE.

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"Jane,' said Aunt David, "do you
know that you are twenty-three, and
have beensbridesmaid three times?"
Yes, aunt, but what of that?'
81 was only nineteen, when | mar
ried your t'ncle David, and had been
bridesmaid but once"
Jane;paused, and laid down the piece
of crewel embroidery which was almost
ready to be rejected by the Decorative
Art @ ub. She was alright, handsome
girl, pining to death in the dullest old
house, the most asteless house, which
the word ever saw. Unc'e and Aunt
David had evidently furnished when
charge frescoes, bad wall papers, violent
carpets and black walnut with "green
reps" or brocatele furniture, were the
fashion,. j ane had been born to an
aesthetic inner tance. Her father, the
poor artist, brother to Uncle David, had
been to Aunt David the embodiment of
toy and impecuniosity. All he had
left to his little daughter was his own
great bump ofideality, his refined soul,
his correcteye, two plaster casts of the
Venus of'Miio, and three Tcrsos, sever
al bits of brocade, and Venetian tap
estry, some brass lamps and his bless
ing. 1.-The VIII lie amt worth five dol
lars" said Aunt David, making men
tai inventory. However, she had al
lowed Jane to arrange her own room
with this trash a d had supplemented a
"good solid education" as she called
it with a sincere love. and care for the
. girl s welfare as she underst cd things
Good food, good clothes, good
schOOling-what more can a girl wantP''
asked Aunt David. She knew that there
wa something<yet that she did want.
Only beauty, My variety, only hope,
love; only graceful surroundings only
sympathy-that was all that Jane want
ed-''and yet she was not satisfedp'
Aunt David looked at this inexpli-
cable and ungrateful girl, with fresh
grievance in her face. ''And so you
have refused Mr.. Hart, hear" she
went ON to say.
Jane started, and the piece of crewel
work fell to the ground.
'He should not have told you," said
Jane, blushing with shame over the dis
grace OF having had an offer. Offers OF
marriage were not common in Urania.
''Indeed, gou should have told me!n'
said Aunt David, angrily; "your only
friend and relative that can do any
thing for you.n
Aunt tD9yid was apt to emphasize
those words which gave an illustrious
radiance ;torher own benefactions.
what was your objection to Mr..
Hart | should like to know?" asked
Aunt David. ..--
''He is too.old. lido not love him, -
said Jane, picking, up the crewel, and
blushing like one of her own poppies.
''He amt as old as your Uncle David
was when married him. And / was
younger than you are; and as for love,
Jane, there is a great deal of nonsense
talked ABOUT, that. | never saw any
good come of marrying for love. Why,
your own, father and mother married
for love, andI should like to know if
they were happy! Nothing but sick
ness, and poverty, and death, and =
The poppies and wild corn were be-
ing rapidly frightened by shower
from the eyes, those lovely gray eyes,
which bent,ever them, as hard old Aunt
David touched upon these facts in the
history oethe lonely orphan, who sat in
one of those atrocious green-rep chairs.
Aunt David did not like tears, however
she did not intend to draw them fourth,
bat in her intense disgust of James folly
she had gonesfurther than she intended.
You know my money dies with me
Jane" said she. 1t all goes back tc
the Rettertons, and young George has
-, I AZ -
This thought had something onsolatory
in it to Jane. For young George Better
ton had been one of her most devoted
admirers. He was her especial, and
peculiar and most detested adherence
She was glad that he was to have this
very ugly and most dismal house; this
enchantef castle of dullness, and tha
she was not to have it.
al can't live forever, you know
Jane" said Aunt David, ALPHABETICALLY
Jane threw down the crewel work
and bent over with her damp face to
Kiss the mahogany countenan 9 of Aunt
David.
"Let me live with you, and ser
you, and take care of you as long az
you do Gves dear auntie and dom
make me marry anybody" pleaded
Jane a
Aunt David shook her head. II may
I've just long enough to leave you {
faded old maid" said the seeing
Yankee lit ". 81 notice that girls like
yoa grow more particular and less
attractive every year Now there wa,
Emily Barry I can remember wher
she was q pretty giT1n'
"Heavens said Jane, with shud
der; "eGa your" And as this drea
full image OF past glories danced befor,
her eyes and she remembered that wha
Emily Barry was, so she might be.
sort Of drea iful asm closed about he
chest. and she almost determined /,
think again'-of Mr.. Hart. Aunt Jan
saw her advantage. "Mr Hart is
very good man, and he has good prop
erty. He has the best house in til
whole county, as you know, and geo.
furniture. Why, remember that h
furnished the same year that Uncl
David andldid, and his first wife KEEP
things clean
30 aunt! / think it is the uglies
house l ever saw. excepting this, she
was aNout to say, but she saved herself.
"Well, it's Il good deal better hous,
than DR.. Davenant will ever have.n sal,
Aunt David, carrying the war int,
Africa
The peoples cast their red reflection
upward again. 1t was the old story
the very old, old story; and DR.. Dave
nant poor and proud, he had not spoken
but oh, ii he should
Jane was romantic. She had no
been her fathers daughter, else. Lii
had been so duh aud prosaic about he
that she had coniured up an ideal eS
istence, and init the handsome youn
doctor had begun to play the part Q
Prince tlorizel The dreams of fame
and of hope had gone even so far as t,
reach an ;esthetic cottage, wherein, sur
rounded with perfect Willam Morri
papers, few plaeques, plenty of books
some real old mahogany chairs, an oil,
clock some Persian rugs. and PORTER
made out of her fathers tapestry, Jan,
should sit "a beaming, beloved bride
making five o clock tea for her husbant
in Queen .Anre teapot; and oh, how
sweet this lille domestic, practical pict
ure. absurd in its mingling of detail
with dream lovely and natnra1 90 oo,,