The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1895-10-24

key and even the
Stantons have managed to rig them
selves out, and have gone on a jaunt.
One might as well be out Of the world
as out of fashion"
Mr.. Townsend thoughtfully helped
himself to fried potatoes, and observed
that he would have to invest in a sum-
mer hat
Nov see here, john, said Mrs.
Townsend, sitting bolt upright in her
chair and emphasizing her remarks
with a pudgy forefnger, 'those Stan
tons haven't any more of this worlds
goods than we have, yet off they go,
with a great flourish to spend a month
at Beechside.''
II don't see where you'd find pleas
anter place than this, in which to pass
the summer" Mr.. Townsend mildly re-
monstrated, besides I'm little short,
just now,-there's that note to meet in
July
'Of course you can't understand why
/ want to go-being man" said Mrs.
Townsend, witheringly, "but I simply
can't stand the airs Of those Stantons.
1t need not cost very much-we might
go into the country
IL SEE, Sd1u N1I. 1OW1ISSIAu, 14O4A-
committal, as usual.
The month of July went out with a
sudden rise of the thermometer, and
general exodus of townspeop1e took
place.
Mrs. Townsend, after a careful pc
rusal Of alluring advertisements, set
tied on 'Silver Creek as the place most
likely to meet her expectations.
Il 10
rates; fine fishing, boating and bathing;
free transportation to and from trains"
Mr.. Townsend agreed to run down"
for Sundays, and Mrs. T., with dire
misgivings, handed her keys over to
the ''help'' that had promised to keep
the domestic machinery going until her
return.
Not entirely sanguine, yet hopeful,
withal Mrs. Townsend pocketed her
baggage check and stepped aboard the
train that was to bear her to her desti-
nation. After a long journey, with the
usual miseries attendant upon a trip
with the thermometer at 80 degrees, she
found herself "Sidetracked in a wheat
feld"-to use her own expression-an
object of great interest to a tow-headed
youth and raw-boned cart horse.
Mr.. fuckers house?" she ventured to
inquire of the former
Reckon I kin, if yeou be the Mis-
Townsen' what's coming t board" he
rejoined This being confirmed, he
brought the rawboned nag alongside
the platform, shifted the various bags
and bundles with which the wagon was
heaped to make room for Mrs Town
II al in
vited that lady to Jump aboard"
Square Tucker couldn't came his
self, cause they're maxim a new hog
pen t'day," he explained, as he cracked
the whip over the nags lean TANKS The
wheels of the numbering vehicle, turn
ing clumsily in the deep sand Of the
road, sent up suffocating clouds Of dust;
the sun beat pitilessly upon their ur-
protected heads.
"How far is it to Square Tucker's?"
inquired Mrs. Townsend.
ooh, matter O. six miles, ne Of the
tow-head responded, cheerfulIy.
Mrs. Townsend's heart tainted within
her.
At turn of the road the wagon
rumbled over a rustic bridge, beneath
which a shallow stream meandcred,
scarcely wetting the sun-dried stones.
'"That thar's Silver Creek" said the
boy, pointing with his whip over his
shoulder. "T'other bend amt morn
half mile from Squire s."
Fishing and boating made easy
murmured Mrs. Townsend, with grim
humor. mo danger of drowning there"
"Fishin' did you say, Marin? There's
plenty O. fish to be got eout O. that thar
creek in tn spring O. tn year. Wouldn't
think it, would yeou?"