The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1865-09-19
FATE I'M A TIN DIPPER

!
for old rags, iron, money or credit Want
to purchase ? should like to trade with
you"
This was the salutation of tall hand
some youth as he opened Mrs. Phillips
kitchen door, one fine morning in August
and addressed the lady of the house at her
seat by the window. Now Mrs. Phillips
was little nettled at the disorderly con-
duct of a skein of yarn which she was
winding, and she answered the fellows
string of inquiries rather tartly for hel :
"No-I don't want any Of your trash.'
Mrs. Phillips eyes snapped portentous-
ly, and her eyebrows drew into closer re,
lationship, as if determined that no ped
ler should be suffered to annoy their
amiable owner.
"Please, Mr. Peddlerman, I want tin
dipper called a childs coice from a back
porch-and Eva Phillips, the first and
last born of her parent, came bounding
into the room. Eva was beautiful child
and the young pedler gazed at her with
undisguised admiration.
"And pray for what does my curly
headed girl want a tin dipper 2" he asked
with au amused expression on his face.
"Oh, to dip up water from the brook
to get berries down on Blackberry hills,
and," she added with charming naiVette,
"to see my face H."
The pedler laughed.
"Female vanity alike the world over -
he muttered to himself; then-"Well, my
dear girl you shall have the dipper. The
best tin in the world might be proud Of
mirroring such face! Come out to the
cart and get it."
Eva ran merrily down to the brown
gate, where the pedIer's good natured
horse was patiently waiting the masters
coming, her happy head full of the grand
times she would have with that tin dip
per. The pedler opened the box, and
took from thence very bright dipper,
and then with the point of his knife, he
engraved bis name-Eugene Fuller-up-
on the outside and gave itiinto the childs
hand.
"There my little Miss, what is your
name ?"
Eva Pearl Phillips" said the girl, in
spectiug her gilt with sparkling eyes.
"Miss Eva "a very pretty name. Well
accept this dipper as love gage from
Eugene Fuller, who, when you get older
IS coming back to make you his little
wife Goodbye, wifey !" and the laugh
ing boy sprang upon his cart and drove off.
His little wife p mused Eva, on her
way back to the house; Il wonder what
mother will say F.? | wonder if che will be-
gin to make pillow cases and sheets, just
as Aunt Ethel did before Cousin Carrie
Pearl was married | must tell her about
t."
Eva dashed into the kitchen full of
important news.
Mother mother the pedlerman says
he Is going to marry me one of these days
Amt it funny Only think, then l can
have as many tin dippers as like p
"As many fddlesticks Go, help Jane
shell the beans for dinner. l do wish
there hadn't been pedler created-they
are pestv'
Mrs. Philips rocked violently forth in
her hencushioned chair, aud made an ex.
ira knot in the refractory yarn.
Time passed on, and Eva kept :he tin
dipper among the most cherished play
things, she did not use it often to hold
berries or dip spring water, for fear its
lustre would be spoiled, and the name Of
the donor effaced Mrs. Phillips dlspis-
ed the dlpPer, because she despised ped.
lers, and she would have destroyed the
"amulet" had not her mothers love plead
ed against it.
So when Eva had reached her tenth
year-a bright blooming lassie, full of.
gaitey and happiness-the dipper was
still in existence, bearing bravely its age
and its oft repeated struggles for favor
with Mrs. Phillips.
Eva was as fond of it as ever-she kept
it on the pretty dressing bureau, that it
might meet her eyes the first thing in the
One wovld have thought that
the little maiden was completely. ipfatua.
ted with what Eugene Fuller five years
ago had styled Glove gage,'-and per-
haps she was. There is no accounting
for female head-no philosopher has
ever discovered a test by which to analyze
The mysterious composition.
One evening Mrs Phillips was coming
INTO the kitchen in something of hurry,
and 1t being dusky in the room, she hit
ler foot against some obstacle, aud in
consequence lost her balance and fell
Town into a huge pan of buttermilk, which
Jane the careless house maid, had left on
he floor. There was quite a splashing
nd splattering,aud Mrs. Phillips, though /
Iphurt, was decidedly put out-not out
f buttermilk but out of temper. Her
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