The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-11-06
a CUNNING SCHEME.
But 1t Didn't Work to the Authors
Entire Satisfaction.


Brown with peculiar interest as he left
the graveyard, leading his two little
girls by the hand. They wondered,
knowing how much she had been to
him, how he would endure the terrible
blow of his wife's death His face was
like marble as the coffin was lowered
into the grave; there was no outward
sign of anguish, but no one doubted for
a moment that he suffered keenly He
had been rather mystery to his con-
gregation always; but they knew him
to be capable of deep feeling, in spite
of his cold, impressive manner. A
noisy, demonstrative show OF grief
would have been impossible to him.
He was man Of great tranquility of
mind, and with little energy Of dispo-
sition. He took all that Providence
sent him very dutifully, without any
effort to change or amend it, no matter
how Objectionable it might be, and he
possessed in perfection the art OF ''put-
ting up with whatsoever befell him.
He was not fayorite with his flock,
but he was by no means unpopular.
The poor loved him, for his hand was
always ready to 90 10 his pocket at a
tale of distress, limited as were his
means, and his reproofs were always of
the mildest sort The rich, though
they had little to say for him, had moth
ing to say against him. They invited
him frequently to their houses, enter
tanned him handsomely, and bore very
complacently with his habit of falling
into brown study at the dinner table.
AS for the younger portion of his flock,
his good looks, his rich chestnut hair
and dreamy da;k eyes had early i'm
pressed them profoundly, and they sang
his praises without stint.
1t was q source of regret to many of
the young lades-and few of the
older one5-that Mr.. Brown was
married man. Many years before he
had come to the church at Barstow he
had welded gentle, sweet-tempered
girl, who fairly worshiped him, and
had proved herself good wife and a
devoted mother. Their welded life
had flowed on as calmly as meadow
brook, undisturbed by any petty
domestic jars or troubles. 1t had never
occurred to Mr.. Brown that it might
not 90 on so forever He did not notice
his wife failing health, and as she was
one of the kind who never complain,
he was utterly unprepared for her
death. Ii stupeiied him; he could not
understand it. 1t seemed to him in
credible, impossible, and he felt be-
wildGred and half-puzzled even when
he heard the sods falling on the coffin.
He went back to his lonely home with
his two little girls, and shut himself up
in his study, where he lay down on the
well-worn lounge, q dull pain in his
head. 1t seemed to him that his lost
Laura must know how much he needed
her. He could not realize that she was
gone. He lay there, interpreting to
see her enter and TO feel her tender
touch on his brow, soothing away the
pain as she had often done when he
was brain weary. But hour after hour
went by, and no one came near him,
and he heard only the voices OF his
children as they talked loudly to the
cook in the kitchen.
The next day he went out as usual,
pursuing his accustomed round of
duties as TRANQUILITY and patiently as
ever. His parishioners were loud in
their expressions of admiration to each
other as they saw how well he bore his
great sorrow, and they were very kind
TO him, especially in the matter of adj
vice. His distressing situation" was
the subject of debate in almost every
house in Barstow. 1t was talked over
at the meetings of the sewing circle,
the reading club and the Indian Relief
Association, and it was unanimously
agreed that the best thin4sthe poor wild
over could do was to employ a gov
erness, who could also act as house.
keeper and general manager
But it was not an easy matter to find
the right kind of a woman for the place,
though there were many applicants for
it 1t was decided that only middle
aged, respectable, quiet woman, who
would be incapable of scheming to fill
tre late Mrs, Browns place, and who
would be competent to take charge of
the little girls, would do, and such q
one was hard to find
1t was Miss AnaStasia Bowen who at
length found Just the right person, and
as Mr. Brown was willing to do Just
what Miss Bowen thought best, that
lady took the responsibility of installing
Miss Susan Piper in the parsonage
without further delay.
Miss Piper was neither old nor Young;
she had no pretensons whatever to
good looks, and she was so exceedingly
shy that if the minister spoke to her on
even the most trivial topic she blushed
as red as peony. But these, said Miss
AnaStasia, were such trifiing drawbacks
as almost to be looked upon in the light
OF advantages, under the circumstances
Miss Piper was, as Mr.. Brown soon
saw a very good woman, exceedingly
conscientious and painstaking. She did
her best for the two little girls-healthy,
happy, pretty little creatures of nine
and eleven years-who learned the
simple lesson she gave them from pure
love for her, not because they feared
her displeasure.
Probably there was no lady in Bar
stow who took q deeper interest in she
household affairs of the bereaved wild
over than Miss Anastasia Bowen. She
was, in spite of the fact that youth had
long since left her, of sentimental
turn of mind, and the PALE high bred
face and gentle manners of Mr. Brown
had inspired her with an intense admir-
alton for him, which, after the death of
his wife, ripened into an undisguised
attachment which was patent to every
one but the object of it. Not chance
did the spinster lose of seeing her idol.
and scarcely a day passed that she did
not run into the parsonage on one
excuse or another.
But the minister, absorbed in his
books and the memory of his dead
Laura, was utterly and sublimely un-
conscious of the passion he had in
spired. The idea OF q second marriage
had never entered his mind. He never
even asked himself whether he liked
Miss Bowen or not, but so constantly
did she press her advice respecting
every subject upon him that he grew to
depend upon her in great measure,
and often consulted her upon different