Litchfield enquirer., 1863-07-30

drags along it ends; but there is TO end to the clay. The impatience even of outsiders is now approaching fever heat, and the we'll is unanimously pronounced "a great 5ore.'' Why not? Thirty feet into the bowels of the earth, seven platforms, and no water but tha t everlasting drip-drip drip. Prospects for the brick-business are certainly improving :; but all other prospects are dim, dark, damp.
 "One more day for the last" is the greet ing of my friend to his workmen. They take long squint down into the abyss, shake their heads, drop their under.jaws, and pitch in. The accumulated drip of the night is slowly bailed out: the pick and shovel are again busy :-and, to make long story short-the sun sets on thirty-two feet of excavation with no diminution to the clay, and no change whatever in the general condition except confused jingling sound of something between copper and bell-metal-which at first is unan- imously taken for an earthquake but is at length ascertained to be the trying of unfnish- ed gongs in the celebrated factory of his Ce- lestial Majesty, near Pekin.
 !" We stone tomorrow, hit or miss," said my resolute friend, as the workmen departed for the night. II can't risk the lives of these men under any more platforms; and besides, I don't choose to be responsible for introducing any more gongs into this town. The one yon- der," .(pointing due north Sis nuisance enough for one village"
 We'll. As my friend said, so he did. The stone were passed down with will The cir cular wall began to rise. The platforms be- gan to disappear, being passed up to the top as they ceased to be wanted. And that night we had no less than twelve feet of wall com pleted. So far, so good.
 But the 'aezt morning g new sight presented itself. In the twelve feet of wall, there were ten feet of s0ater
 "AhF' exclaimed my friend, drawing q breath as long as himself, " we have touched bottom at last"
 Bottom ?" said I: " Yes, bottom enough but where will the top be p
 "How the top?"
 The top of the water."
 "We have about reached that. I guess."
 "No, si, /" said I, with the approved em phasis on the second word " You had better hurry up your wall, for tell yo1 the watel yyill he, ovar tho to,o # ;t
 "Ha! hal ha" rejoined my friend.
 "Ha ha i! Ina !'' echoed las friend.
 "Ha! ha 1 hal ho ho! ho! haw haw haw! he he hel" arose and echoed aud re echoed from the depths of the we'll to the six, -a-hnra and the surrounding hills on every side Snch roar of laughter was never before heard on Litchfeld Hill, since the merry dayt when Norman Barns cracked his jokes on ths front steps of Hiram Wallaces store. l stood my ground, however. Gentlemen" said I, "t this is all very well Laugh away if it suits you. But tell you that whatever may happen during this drought so soon as we have rainy week, that well vii overflow, and the water will run down tha' drain into the meadow
 "Ha hal hap &c.,, &c., again and agai D was the only response.
 | Nevertheless, on Wednesday afternoon l July the ffteenth-which is about as nea midsummer as you can make it-in this yea of Grace, 1863, after some days of rain, tha said we'll did overflow, and the water ran in . torrent down into the meadow; which wate was not rain water nor surface water accumu lating on the ground thereabopt bat water that rose up from the bottom of the well un der the pressure of head distant from Litch field Hill thousand miles-more or less. More over, the water is < soft" and my friend vii be saved the trouble and expense of a cistern being assured of at least twenty feet o soft water in the driest of seasons.
 Think of that, ye who of late have hae empty cisternsl
 WELL! WHAT OF IT?