The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-07-06

very 0rm ana ucClueQ. ne repIlcu 10
that, urging reasons for writing, and
one letter brought on another, until in
the excitement and delight of a senti-
mental correspondence, | expressed
myself more strongly than / intended.
In fact, might as well tell the truth;
wrote to man had never seen and
knew nothing about that there had been
stranger things than learning to love q
favored correspondent.
was very foolish? do you say? Yes.
| Crazed with excitement and not re-
sponsible? No. For had been led to it
against the protest of my good sense.
Let it serve as warning to other
girls. These written follies somehow
have the knack of coming back upon
their authors, like ghosts that will not
be laid.
Twas to leave school about the time
of my seventeenth birthday. AS that
period drew near, I began to feel more
deeply the folly of what | had done,
and to see the necessity OF getting out
of the ENHANCEMENT into which / had
been led. To tell the truth, too, / be-
gan to get 'tiredsof the correspondence.
found that my admirer's letters were
often ill-speiled and badly expressed
AT times he became so high-fown that
/ could not quite understand him. In
my ignorance thought ] could end the
matter when | pleased and the very
idea that father or that my brother
Harry should find out anything about
1t terrified me- | had no mother, but
my good, kind father was mother and
father both, though sometimes he could
be very stern when Lid wrong
| told Ellen that was going home
the next week, and should not, write
again to her cousin She must tell him
that | wanted the correspondence to
cease, and if he wrote to me at my home
should be compelled to return the
letters. 41s
''You know it's been in fun, any,
way" / said. sand 1 want you to get
my letters from him and burn them up.
Here are his" handing her package.
To my establishment, she burst into a
rage. She, who had taught me that 1t
was only fun to engage in these affairs,
4 all at once became indignant at my
falsehood.d She was always coarse and
common in her speech. but that day no
yirago could have surpassed her in vul-
garity. She exhausted herself at last,
and then burst into passion of tears.
''You needn't think to throw him
off in that way" she cried.
you've led him on, and now you re
going home because you think your pa s
richer than he is, you're for casting him
to the winds. Il want to say to you that
fun's fun, butthis matter has gone far
ther than fun Won't he give it to me,
tool and she had another stormy par
,oxysm, i .e-e g
was terribly frightened, and it dis
gusts me to think of the quantity of
humble pie Twas forced to eat that day.
| cried, / prayed, / presented Ellen with
a set of pink coral, on which she had
long cast covetous eyes, and at last she
apparently relented, and promised to
get me out OF the scrape.
cat least II do my BEST she said,
shaking her head, ..but you don't know
Guy. He's a mule when his heads set
on anything, and you can't drive nor
coax him.
That was not exactly the noble char
acter she had before given him, but
was too glad to have the promise of an
advocate in the matter to find fault.
How happy I was when 1 reached
home, and felt that | was not to leave it
again! How beautiful the garden and
lawn of Plainield looked under the mid
summer sun! Then, too, Harry was at
home, handsome fellow just twenty,
with q marvellous mustache, which he
had grown within the year, and trying
hard to be dignified and imposing in
manner Ta4
The following week, there was to be a
grand party at Plainfield to celebrate
my seventeenth birthday. How happy
| was in those days, choosing my dress
and having it made up, and receiving
and visiting the dear old friends who
crowded in to welcome me! 1t seemed
to me no girl in the world had a more
blissful lot, and the future stretched out
before me, a cloudless vista. If an in
trusive memory of the past year forced
itself upon me, | thrust it quickly away,
and went singing and dancing through
the house.
At last the momentous day dawned,
and from early morning the household
was in stir. / had taken upon myself
the decoration of the two large parlors,
and mounted on step-ladder, was nail
ing some trailing wreaths of ivy and
roses over the doorways. Old Uncle
Zeb, our colored diniDg-room servant,
marched in holding card on salver.
"It's no use bringing that, Uncle
Zeb," cried from my lofty perch. II
couldn't see the Gar of Russia to-day,
with all this work to be done. Tell my
visitor I'm very sorry, but it's impossi-
bic for me to see. any one. Tomorrow
shall be glad to receive visitors. .
II done tolt him so, missy Zeb
said, in an injured tone, .sbut | reckon
he amt much of a gentleman, least
wise he seq, eff you read his name, you'll
be sure to see him. y
He handed up the piece of pasteboard,
and my Mortified eyes saw &c. Reeves
on it, and then my brain seemed to swim,
until | grew giddy. There was one
paramount, instinct with me-to run
away. i did not stop to think orreason
on the subject. made one spring to
the floor. .3 E
$50 back to the person, Uncle Zeb. =
| said, breathlessly. Say you can't
find me, that I've gone away to STAY
ever so long. just get him out of the
house, and O, Uncle Zeb, I'll do any,
thing for your
| The next moment had rushed out of
the house and into the woods which ran
on the side Of it. threw myself on the
ground and by degrees my senses began
to come back to me. Why didn't i see
the fellow at once, and get him away
before my father or Harry should meet
him? Besides, if he came once, he
would be sure to come again.
! was utterly desperate, and decided
it would be best to meet him in the
road, and have the horrible interview
over. | ran to knoll which COM
manded a view of the house, and after a
time l saw man emerge from the park
gate and come slowly down the road
which led to neighboring village.
My first impulse was to walk forward
and meet him, but am a sad coward,
and my next was to conceal myself in
| the thicket near the road. and take a