Connecticut western news., 1872-11-01
PATTY'S PLOT.

FAITHS PLOT.
 Loves me better than the whole world does he ?" said Patty Peronel, shaking her brown tendrilly rings of hair oyer faded rosebud and knot of crumplet ribbon. "Oh, dare say but you see, , gravely addressing space, "I've heard that sort of thing before. Love must be ar awful epidemic nowadays. And all the worlds lottery and I, for one, don't how l wish I could really see into a mans heart How wish I had any means ot ascertaining whether Ralph Penrhyn really cares for me, or whether he has heard of Uncle Hutchinson's ten thousand dollars. o dear me i! and Patty sighed a sigh deep enough to stir all the red cinna- mon roses that were holding their turhan- ed crests at the easement.
 And then she jumped up, and went about her business.
 Which chanced to be girl hunting just then. For Mrs. Maurice Peronel, Patty $ cousin, was chronically in the suds, so tc speak, on the domestic service question. and our Patty k-sw tho inside of every Intelligence office in town.
 " Its cook this time, is it, Bessie {? said she.
 A cook" said Bessie. 70, Patty, Patty, don't get married and go to house keeping. It takes all the romance out oi one.'
 T don't know but what you are right. , Patty assented refectively. And away she went to the Intelligence office.
 It was crowded, on this hot July day with the miscellaneous assemblage of forlorn feminity who are always seeking situations, and like the lover in the " Mistletoe Bough,'' s'find them not. , Patty looked round dubiously. She was something of physiognomist, and she did not exactly like the looks of the raw material wherewith she was surrounded
 "l had better bide my time little,' she thought, and down she nestled into the corner of a prodigious sofa, to wait with what patience she might.
 As she seated herself, the shr1ll piping voice of an old lady beyond made silence vocal.
 "You won't do for me-" she said. !" Nc followers-that's my rule. My kitchen ant place for all the loafin' fellers in town to smoke m. Ask everybody in Darling. vile, if you want to know what kind o1 housekeeper Rachel Penrhyn is. Every. body in Darlingville knows nae. No fol lowers, no ribbons, and no hoop-skirts.
 I guess then, ma'am, you won't do fol me- said the Milesian damsel, with ar indignant toss of her jockey-hatted head I don't go nowheres I can't have my young man come and see me of Saturday night"
 Patty Peronel listened with mischiev ously sparkling eyes and cherry cheeks This, then, was the eccentric Aunt RacEel of whom Ralph had often told her-the grim old spinster who "kept house" all by herself, in the quaint village of Darling villc, where the elms lined the streets like green-kirtled sentinels, and everybody went to bed at halt-past nine o'clock.
 Very sudden resolves will sometimes rush throug h our brains, lightning express fashion, in short space of time, and almost before the shrill tones of Miss Rachel's falsetto voice had ceased tc vibrate on the air, Patty Peronel stood dipping odd little courtesies before her.
 II you please, ma'am, would suit 2
 Miss Rachel glared through her moon shaped spectacle glasses at the trim figure robed in sober gray.
 You child p quoth she. '' Why you're such chit of a thingp'
 I am nineteen, ma'am !,'
 "What can you dc?
 GA little of everything, ma'am," Patty answered demurely.
 Whats your name 2"
 Martha, ma'am, please"
 Apparently the cross-examination tha, followed was satisfactory to Miss Rache Penrhyn, for she finally told Patty sh, might " come and try" at seven dollars month.
 q may go home for my clothes, ma a'am?' said Patty, with dropping eyelids ant hands folded.
 Yes /; but be sure you meet me at tn railroad station at four precisely"
 Patty promised, and ran home to Mrs | PeroneI.
 Where's my girl ?'' demanded tn matron.
 haven't got any. Pm girl myself Bessie-at seven dollars month, and
 followers 1"
 "What under the sun do you mean ?"
 And Patty explained. Don't scold, Bessie-noW don't that | oal iAlS' HI OSlIpu AaIOun AlraSCll' Tn disguise, that's all. It will be such fun Where's my gingham dress, and the littl linen collars and the big bib aprons? Flo my bubble would burst altogether if shouldn't meet Aunt Rachel at the statio1 at four o'clock precisely"
 What a change it was, from the swarm ing city streets, radiating scintillations c heat from every cnrb-stone, to the old Pcnrhyn house, where the century ol elms loaned green canopy of shade, an the clove-pinks and old fashioned blue bells blossomed along the borders. An Martha," the new maid, settled into tn grooves at orce, as if sue had lived all he life under Aunt Rachel's roof-tree.
 believe am going to like this," sai Aunt Rachel. But then, of course, new broom sweeps clean and Pm 'mos afraid to believe in any one, since Ketura Smith experienced religion and then ru away with my silver sugar-basin !''
 "This IS MT. Ralph's room, is it ?'' sai T Martha, with her hands in her ruffle pockets, as she stood regarding the apart ment that had just been opened to dusted and aired. ....-...
 Yes this is my nephew's roc m" sai the old lady. He comes out once in while, and always keep it ready for hin