The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1884-05-09

initiating failures, he did not despair.
nor she.
One sunny afternoon he got so far as
to say, after many preliminary grim
aces:
Jennie. woman, are We nae lanely
aftentimes here, syne your brother can
gang ABBOTT wi ye nae mairP''
eyes, John.
Eye dinna'i- he ventured, slowly rub,
bling the back of old Meggy with the
stump of a whip-s.Ye dinna ike tae be
sac lonesome, Jeanie?''
think John did not know what else
to say.
mae, john
Jeanne. woman (John was rub
bling old Meggy's back very hard, in
deed, and making so numerous and so
violent grimaces that that staid animal,
looking back in protest, was utterly dis
concerted) 'sJeanie, woman, hadna we
better-you an -hadna WEI
But something got into his throat at
this crisis. 1t made his face blush deep
II. Jeanne thought to help him.
"Better what, John?''
But it was of no use. That something
stuck in his throat until John was COM
PEELED to temporize by continuing, with
great emphasis Hadna we better
gang hame9" Before she could have
answered, even had she been SO dis
posed, he had turned Meg squarely.
about and, under the inspiration of the
vigorously piled whip, the bewildered
70 CT
ward.
Days passed, aud still that something
in the throat proved fatal to his (their?
All! Jeanne, Jeanie9 most sincere en-
deayors.
Peacefully, almost happily, wore
away the long summer days to the con-
valescent. And still the STRINGS in his
rugged breast were not stilled, nor
could he wish them stilled. Had she
conquered? No; he would not say
that; and yet he was conquered.
1t was the last afternoon before his
departure. They John, Jeanie and
Meggy) were returning from their
daily drive up the valley. For some
miles they had logged along in silence.
Several attempts had John made to say
that ssomething;;" but that something
else in the throat always forced him to
patch out his sentences as gracefully
(Which was very clumsily) as possible.
The silence was growing painful.
Jeanne made great effort to appear
unconcerned, but wretchedly failed.
Now and then John would break the
silence by such oyertures to Meggy as:
''Glang noo!" and Keep your tail
frae aboon the lines. will YEP"
But Meggy knew, as well as Jeanie
and John himself, that these were mis-
cradle subterfuges, and so paid no heed
whatever to them.
At last, where the road crossed the
little valley brook, Meggy stopped, I'M
der the shade of an oyerhanging elm.
to refresh herself with the cool, clear
water
1t was very opportune.
John began rubbing Meggy's back
again, which, with the great diversity
of predatory grimaces, Jeanie rightful-
ly Interpreted hopefully.
At last:
"Jeanie, for monte day hae tried
to ask ye something; but ilka time my
heart failit me.
eyes, john
"Jeanie, woman" (John's face was
very red) .'Jeanie, will ye, will ye''-
Jeanne was dipping a branch of the elm
into the brook, whose ripping waters
kissed its bright leaves and went laugh
ing on quite coquettishly.
.'Will IT,
"Jeanie, woman (Meggy was
shaking her drowsy head in vigorous
disapproval of the energy with which
she was being scrape0 "Jeanie, will
We be-
"What, JohnP" The Dough cracked,
she dipped it SO low.
"Will ye-- be gang in''-
"Nae, John; it is nae that"
.Jeanie, / loo ye" We'll done,
John, well DONE II loo ye. An moo,
will ye be MY
"Your
"My ain wee'-John thought her
Scotch fondness for ALTERATION would
suggest, and her woman's curiosity
prompt tho completion of his sentence.
But no, John; you must do it yourself
"Wee?" echoed Jeanne.
"Will ye be my ain wee wife.
JeanieP'
1t was done and well DONE
2 ''Be your wife, Why, mon, who'd
dreamed of it?' Cab! Jeanne, who
would? Who did?)
"Will ye, Jeanne, womanp" the voice
was almost tender.
Jeanie's hand was loosed from the
bough, and it sprang up, scattering the
spray, as minute benediction over them.
Twill I? Yes, John. Letus be gangin'
hame."
The fire burns brighter on the hearth
of Dark Ridge now, and bits of rudy
light play ever among the deep carvings
of the mantel.
The fire burns brightly In Johns
heart now, and bits of life's ruddiest
light play ever among the deep carv-
ings of his face. w II. McDouqoH, IN
N. Y. Independent.