Connecticut western news., 1872-08-23

1 This was the last talk the miller had with Amos about worldly things, tho he said much more to him about the happier and better land-for the good man had l that above which no losses or bankrupt cies could take away.
 Mary Crust had to do what she could for her own living, for now the mill and all belonging to it was to be sold; but she had her brave fathers heart and courage, and was quite prepared for whatever duty pointed out as a right course. Friends found her situation as companion to lady who lived in London. It seemed to be in every way what was desirable; and though Amos would have kept her in Hol- lington if he could, Mary was determined. She reminded Amos of all her father had said to him about day -dreaming-th honest work was what lay before them; and that if they both stuck to it, honest work would sooner or later bring them together as man and wife. "How soon will that be-" said Mary Crust, de- bends most likely, Amos, upon yourself" :"
 So the miller's daughter went off to her situation, and Amos remained at Hol- lington.
 Amos Dyke was not quite without re- sources. The creditors of the Hollington miller, when they met, had as their chair man worthy "Friend," named Helps, who, at the end of the meeting, addressed his brother creditors on behalf of Amos.
 "There is one matter" said MT. Joshua Helps, "which I wish to bring before the meeting before we part; it is the case of the young man Dyke. think we Io11 nhf fn ohorr r>Sfx1 for hat he is now beggared through no fault of hls own; and I would propose g subscrip- tion on his behalf. If there be any who will follow me, will give e1O to begin with"
 The proposition of the worthy Quaker was successful. e100 was raised for Amos in the room.
 "Look thee here, friend," said the Quaker, "here are the materials for an ample fortune. Fortunes have been made out of penny piece; how much more can there be made out of 91OO9 Now stir myself and this money aright and thou wilt do we'll"
 Amos took the money with much grati- tude, and in truth intended to do no end of things with it, but day after day slipped by, and while he intended to do great Qoal, ne really QlQ ROGnlng.
 And every day he found it harder and harder to begin. He had no immediate necessity, for his money supplied him with all he required, and always thinking that this thing and that thing were not good enough, he allowed month after month to pass.
 One grand chance Amos let slip. The Hollington carrier, who had succeeded his father, offered to give him share of the business if he would put $50 in it and undertake to drive one of the teams him. self, but Amos was above taking to the road, and so that chance passed by.
 "Now," said Amos, as lie sat dreamily by the roadside one day, as the Guilford and London coach drove by with team of four splendid grays, eff could get a share in turnout like that I shouldn't mlnd driving it.'
 On came the coach, and there is no knowing how long Amos Dyke might have sat there had not an elderly gentle man shouted to him as he passed, and cried, "Ah, friend Amos Dyke, is that thee9 what art thou doing there9 Here coachman! Hallo ceachman! wait one moment we'll take up this young man for mile or two, and I'll pay for him. Now then, friend Amos, squeeze in here by me; now tell me how thou art getting on, and what kind of business thou hast put that 910O in, which allows thee to be sitting doing nothing by he roadside at this hour of the day. My experience of 91O0 is that it requires good deal of looking after; but perhaps thou hast found some new way of making money while thou dost play,
 | A few words, and indeed poor Amos's l looks revealed to the shrewd Quaker ex- actly how the matter lay. It was no part of the worthy mans attention to shame Amos before other people, so he said no more until they arrived at the next stage. Then, while the horses were being changed, Joshua Helps said, "thou hast nothing to do, so thou shalt come to Lon don with me; 1 will take care of thee and | bring thee back all safe tomorrow. Amos felt thrill of delight at the pro- | position, and, in the fullness of his joy, told the Quaker of his special attraction there; indeed, in his simplicity, he even went so far as to confess that he used fre- quently to go and sit on that seat, where he had found him, to look at the coach that he had dreamy kind of pleasure in thinking that 1t was going to the place where she was.
 "And will the coach's going bring thee any nearer?' sad Mr. Joshua :; '" what good will that do thee?" MT. Joshua did not say this because he did not believe in love-not he. He had loved Sarah Short himself, and never ceased until he had made her Sarah Helps but he did not be- lieve in dreamy love but in working love. He used to say, "Orpah kissed Naomi, but Ruth clave unto him.''
 All that day MT. Joshua Helps took Amos Dyke about with him, continually directing his attention to one person, and one thing and another, in this fashion, "Dost thou see that horse, Amos-how it pulls? Dost thou see what haste that man is walking with that parcel2 Dost thou perceive how everybody is going some where and doing something" And indeed the young man need have had no greater example of energy than MT. Joshua him. self, who pulling ont his watch often from time to time, was evidently intent on get ting through no end of work before eve ming.
 When evening came, Amos asked if he could go out and try to get a sight of Mary, as he was so fortunate as to be near where she was.
 "And how wilt thou go to her, an d with what sort of tale2'' said the Quak- CT; how wilt thou answer her questions when she asks thee what thou art doing, and how much nearer marriage thou art? should be ashamed" said he, "to have asked to see my Sarah under circumstan- ces like these and indeed am doubtful if she, on her part, would have seen me. Now take my advice, young man," said MT. Joshua; "remain here quietly with me this evening, and let us talk over matters, and to o-morrow thou shalt return with me; and I tell thee it will be worth