Litchfield enquirer., 1863-04-16
AlisfelIa,,pl.
How Kissed nay Uncle,s Cues, Guest.

he says do. I am not sure of it, for we have such dear old servant woman; and when she comes to me and says Miss Kitty, what shall we have for dinner? ?'' or "What shall do about sosands ?'a I always say, !" Of course you know best, Bridget i and then she does exactly what she chooses ~ 5.s-ss tg... It saves me great deal of trouble, and lpleases Bridget, and uncle never knows any thing about it ;-so that we are all suited For my part, I'd not part with Bridget Bradley for her weight in gold. Not but that she has her faults and one of them (poor dear soul 1 1 if she should ever leave us, I'm sure I'd not mention it in her character,) is the little black bottle which she will carry in her pocket, and | which. when the cork gets pushed out, as it sometimes does, makes the whole place smell terribly of gin-and gin, besides being very unpleasant perfume, is decidedly vulgar. Once, when she wore my pea a-green merino to her cousins wedding, and broke the bottle in the pocket, I soas angry with her, especially as | she split it clear across the back and tore the right sleeve out. But the poor thi.g apolo- gized so nicely, and said so truly" put it to you, miss, whether you could dress and pay your sisters board on seven dollars month ?" that really was obliged to overlook it. Sol gave her the green merino; she didn't mind the gin perfume, and I am sure the poor soul was very grateful; and excepting the time when she tumbled down stairs with turreen ofoysters, I'm sure she hasn't drank anything to speak Of since. But, dear me don't know where my pen is wandering. had no idea of writing so much about Bridget Bradley.
 As said, I am supposed to keep house for Uncle Clover. and we live in a dear old place which they say he built years ago, when he ex pected to be married but the bride died upon what would have been her wedding night, and
 Uncle Clover remained bachelor, and always will remain so now, l suppose, for he is nearly sixty. For years and years he travelled in Flu rope ;but at last, growing weary of his wander ing life, he returned, urged mother to let me live with him, and settled down in the dwelling where, suppose, he had once dreamed of hay
 ing his own little children about him. He is not sentimental looking man by any means, but plump, rosy checked. white haired and sni-
 inS. Yet there is ona chamber which always is locked, and to which he goes now and then, as devctee might make pilgrimage to tha shrine of his patron saint--a dainty room, with low white couch, draped with l:ca and full of rare and costly t!ings--Aes room, she had lived to be his wife. Sometnes, when am in dreamy mood, fancy that, were spirits visible to mortal eyes, we should see her also gliding up the staircase and along the hall, and entering softly the little roc m made sacred by her memory. And it is so odd to think that. if she had lived, she would perhaps have been
 stout old lady in cap and spectacles, and that she and uncle would have had arguments about the house keeping expenses, and fallen out with each other about the dinner over and over again as other married people do
 Uncle Clover never talks to me about her. and if didn't know better, I should think he had ceased to think of that past time. People say, sometimes, that he s altogether too senti- menta. ever to have been in love, fat least my friend Bertha Judd says $, ) ba. they are very much mistaken have absolutely seen him shedding tears behind his red baadanna pocket aandkerchief over such old fashioned nayels as " Ihe Children oftae -,obey,' ,e.Evelina.' and As f., n
 he Romance of, the Forest" He.seldom reads modern works, but has book case full oi those calf bound romances of the past gen erasioii, all m six or seven volumes, with frontispiece On steel of Lord Somebody, in a rufiied s.iirt. on his knees before Lady Some
 hoay else In terribly short waist, with such q
 low neck and such abbreviated skirts, without any gathers. Perfect frighss they must have made ot themselves. and the ouiy wonder is how even those terrible dantlies in the ruifled shirts and eyeglasses could have seen anything to admire in them. t.s . Uncle Clover is, in fact, old fashioned in most things. Itwas an age before could get him to use silver forks at able. and can't say how long before he would have the Croson wa. ter introduced into the house. am sure poor Bridget nearly broke her poor old back drag
 ging water out of an inconseiient stone well at the end of the garden before I accomplished it. and to this day uncle always has pitcher of that we'll water drawn for his ind ividual use ,. dinner time. The sweetest in the world, he calls it; but to my mind it tastes like decoc- ton of oyster shells, except when itrains then 1t has somehow or other the flavor of seaweed. But all these things were easy compared to the terrible time had with him abont gas. He
 had always used wax candles, and always would; gas gave glaring light and had a disgusting odor.s The higher classes in England preferred wax candles, I thought never should man. age him, and don't believe [ should if I had
 not enlisted mother in my favor. She came
 oyer on purpose to talk about it, and spent the
 day, dear soul showing the great advantages l of gas and the disadvantage of candles. As 3 soon as she was gone, Uncle Clover said, very g T snanDishly.s ai6aSa9fg sss9x ssssss4 ags j