The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1888-09-14


visible from her window How dull
the sun-browned grass was under this
cloudy sky! The wind was rising rap
idly, and swept in strong gusts around
the building, swaying the few trees
that grew near it, moaning through
their tops, and then rushing away Oh
its unimpeded course across the open
country, leaving behind it a moments
breathless stiffness.
| Suddenly the sky changed to pecu-
liar greenish hue, there was rushing,
rumbling sound, less like thunder, than
like a swiftly approaching train.
Marcia started to her feet, but she had
scarcely time to think what it was be-
fore fierce blast came crashing
through the trees, twisting and snap
ing them, and making the little build
ing shake and CULVER, as If it. were
trembling in an agony of fear before
this mighty, invisible power. Marcia
sprang to the window, and looked
helplessly toward home.
ought to have gone''-she began,
but the sentence was left unfinished.
Her head suddenly bumped against the
sash, then she was swiftly thrown
backward upon the floor, with con-
fused vision Of flying desks, books and
benches, and feeling that the build
| Ing was being violently lifted and
borne forward. There was a moment
| OF fearful uproar, in which the
rafting of furniture. the crashing of
glass, her own shrek, and the roar of
| the wind We're blended; then the din
and frightful motion ceased, and all
was still. She slowly freed herself
from the chairs and maps piled around
her, and regained her feet.
Beyond few slight bruises she was
unhurt, and as soon as her bewildered
brain comprehended what had hap
pened, she obeyed her first impulse,
and escaped from the house. to the
open prairie. Here voice greeted
| her.
Hello! You here, Miss Marshy?
Well, wasn't that blowi'' and Squire
Selby scrambled up from the earth
ana looked about him, wi tn his round
lace wearing an expression more
nearly like gravity than it had ever
been known to assume before
II was on my way home from town
when | noticed the storm-clouds rollin'
up SO fast, that thought I'd better
make for the school-house. / had no
ldee it would be SO obligin' as to come
half way and meet me. I heard we
was havin' some progressive doin's
there since you took charge, Miss
Marshy, but this is more than ex-
pected. Well, wasn't it blow! /
wonder where my horse and wagon
has gone to. / jumped out, and lay
flat on the ground, and if old Dobbin
amt blown to flinders it's likely he's
gone home"
The rain began to fall heavily, and
the jovial old squire proposed seeking
shelter in the building. Marcia shrank
back in terror, but he treasured her.
"Oh, it's safe enough now! Light
ming amt apt to strike twice in the
same place; and it wasn't lightning,
anyway, but a hurricane that's miles
off by this time, troubling other
folks. Good deal more danger of
your taking cold out here, Miss
Marshy, than there is of the school,
house takin' to it's heels again This
rain III soon be over.''
The rain was soon over, as he had
predicted, and the sun was lighting IN
the drops that lay on the grass as
Marcia took her way homeward.
Every thing was just as usual. The
storm had brought only one of those
almost casualties that SO constantly
threaten in one form Or another, pass
on, and are forgotten.
But that one minutes outlook had
suddenly settled the question that had
been vexing her. A strange light falls
on many things, when we stand for a
moment at the gates that open out
ward, and see life stretching away in
to the beyond. Little pleasures are
not so weighty as they had seemed,
and ''next of kim did mean good
deal. So it happened that, after the
event of the afternoon had been dis
cussed and exclaimed over that even
ing, Marcia said. simply:
GIVE been thinking, Uncle Seth,
that we'd better take that child instead
of letting it go to Joel's."
The rugged, homely face bright
ened, and there was quick light in
the eyes under the shaggy, gray brows.
I'm kinder glad to hear you saw
that, Marshy, am, really. It'll make
harder times for US, don't doubt. an
tough pullin' sometimes to get along,
but | never did shirk yet, an seems q
if twas late to begin now'
He was off on his journey in the few
days of Marcia's enforced vacation, and
she and Nancy had ample time for
planning. They hunted up old muslin
dresses that would cut over nicely, but
decided that the matter of making
clothing must await clearer knowl-
edge OF the young strangers size.
They pondered whether the east
room or the ''best ROOM could be most
comfortably transformed into a nurs-
cry; and, from its long Punishment in
the attic, they brought down an old
fashioned cradle.
Softly pillowed and daintily equipped,
the cradle stood beside the fire on the
evening that Uncle Seth was expected
home, while on the stove was a cup OF
catnip tea, which Nancy now pushed
forward to warm, now backward into
obscurity, according to her fiuctuating
opinion of the age of the baby.
When the familiar step at last sound
ed at the door both women started for
ward. But Uncle Seth entered alone.
The babyp' exclaimed Marcia.
Where is the child?"
'.Shor Uncle Seth's face wore
I