The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1888-09-14
AN "INCUM'RANCE.0
David's Little Bequest to his Next
Of Kin.

The slant rays of the afternoon sun,
low down in the west, lighted the
windows of the plain farmhouse,
gilded the worn door-stone and
crowned even the faded little knot of
hair on Nancy's head, as she stood by
the pump. In her hand was shining
teakettle, to be filled for supper, and
on her lips was a song which was
somewhat impeded in. its flow by the
discovery of chickens in the flower
bed:
"'J'm pilgrim, and I'm a.
"ShooI shoe! shoo!n
"'I can tarry, I can tarry'-
"Shoo! Get out of them Chiny-as-
tersr'
--"' But night
81 do b'lieve I'll have that old
speckles head cut off in the mornin'.
She's forever in the fowers?"
The last sentence was addressed to
Marcia, who had just entered the gate.
Marcia laughed, whisked her white
apron at the refractory fowls, and
sent them skurrying to the barn.
Then she turned toward the house,
swinging on her fingers the key that
was her badge of Office as teacher
janitor also--of the schools at the
CROSSROADS.
1t was a large key for SO small
building, but it meant great things
to the young teacher. 1t unlocked not
only the dingy school-room, but the
door OF host of pleasant possible
ties and golden dreams as well; help
for Uncle Seth, improvement in the
house, books, an overwhelming stream
of comfort. Even while she slipped
the clumsy brass ring from her finger
and hung it on it's appointed nail, she
was mentally rearranging the stiff
back chairs and weighty mahogany
table OF the best room, to make room
for the piano that might come some
day.
Nancy fingered to gather up the
half-dozen blossoms snapped off by
the feathered invaders, and, when her
kettle had been placed on the stove,
she carefully arranged them in a china
mug on the mantel.
81 s'pose faint right to blame ami
mails for their nature, seein' tbs
nature, she said, not yet recovered
from her indignation; "but it does
seem as If hens might have had as
much as two grains of sense without
huntin' EN- any. Wen you've said
eggs, you've said all the good there is
to EN-. They've precious little gump-
ton even in taking care of their own
chickens, and not a mite of maternal
affection.
Fact is there's nothin' human-like
about poultry, unless it's the way the
old rooster calls up his whole brood
whenever he finds any thing to eat,
cackles and brags about what a good
pervider he is, an then swallers the
heft of it himself That is a good
deal like some men I've seen. If that
back garden fence
"Yes, know. We must have new
one there this fall" interrupted
Marcia, with the tone of one to whom
all desirable things looked hopeful.
Nancy accepted the cheeriness of
voice and promise with sudden
smoothing of her pucxered brows.
"Well, faint no use to make mount
aims out of mole-hills, any way" she
said, falling back on the proverb that
had smoothed many rough places.
Your Uncle Seth he's gone up to
town to-day"
This last remark had no connection
with either mountains or mole-hills,
and was merely intended to indicate
that she had buried her grievance, and
switched her train of thought to an
other track. Then, while she spread
the tea-table, her high-pitched voice
once more took up the statement that
she was a pilgrim and stranger"
A homely picture it was, that plain
old kitchen with its Anticipated furni-
ture; but it seemed very coy and in
viting one to the man who paused for
a moment in the doorway, and sur
veyed it with his slow, quiet smile be-
fore entering, He felt its pleasantness
rather than thought it, however, and
expressed his restful satisfaction only
by comparison.
Town is such crowded, noisy
place! / can't see why anyone wants
to live there His eyes frightened
us they fell on the erect young figure at
the window, "EIome arin. Marshv q"
he said as if her coming were q de
lightful surprise, instead of daily oc
currence. "How's the school to.dayr
Marcia always had some inciden
from the days experience tucked away
in her memery for him. Not that no
ever commented much beyond a kind, "
''Sho! You don't say, now?" 1t was
only the ighton his wrinkled, weather
baten face which revealed his. un-
s2eakable opinion of that institution
of learning at the Cross-Roads Words
were not Uncle Seth's forte, though he
had once contded to Nancy q fear
that some # them town schools MIGHT
be tryin1 to git our Marshy when they
ind how. wonderful well she's dom p
But tonight the story of Bob Tuck
er's latest piece OF mischief was cut
short by a sudden thought.
20, Uncle Seth, did you get tic
paper wantedg"
Fumbling in his pocket for the 81