The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1874-10-16
THE CRINKLETON MYSTERY.

Our grotesque teapot was an article
decidedly ugly, wearing a permanent
and disagreeable grin, and with kind
of snake arrangement for handle and
spout, The gentle associations-the
days labor done, the drawing in round
the fire, the family circle, with the
cheering, and not inebriating results
seem wholly incompatible with the use
of such an article and the spectacle of
the amiable fluid poured from such
vessel by gentle hands almost painful
one. But would not part with it for
any money it is held in affection like
cherished heirloom. Yet it is damaged
indeed, from the network of lines
and cracks which covers it, even an I'M
professional could see that it had been
smashed into a hundred pieces at
least. So it has. One day it got fall
was dropped-and lay on the floor,
shivered into heap of fragments. The
restoration, deemed impossible at first,
was undertaken for large sum of
money, which was paid with delight,
for that fail brought about what you
are now going to hear.
I well recollect the day that my dear
father secured it, and when he said it
was ga unique" We could see no
beauty in it, although we tried hard to
do so and, as to its uniqueness, we
Gather thought that was an advantage
for the world, and for the spread of
taste. He was considered general en-
thusiast, this Mr.. Crinkleton, and, as /
once overheard a brother amateur
whisper TO his friend, like a particu-
lar saucer-all cracked and mended,"
and, though L should not say it, still
the conviction began to force itself on
me Of late years that, from over-devo-
ton to this pursuit, he had grown a
little odd. Not that he was one of the
reckless, wasteful amateurs, with whom
collecting ls passion as impossible to
be resisted as drinking, and who devour
and swallow everything with a reckless
craving. He had the most surprising
taste and judgment, and it was admit
TED that the choicest and most valuable
portion of his collection had been
gathered very cheaply, when he was a
poor man. But / can see L have been
assuming good many things as known,
which there has not been time TO tell
L, who have now the grotesque teapot
in my hand, and am relating this story,
was his son-a son that worshiped him,
and sympathized with what friends
called his hobby though I frankly own
/ never could understand how this plate
was precious, or that jug was rare, or
this "bit" of Palissy worth more than
the number of sovereigns that would
cover it's surface. 1 confess, indeed, L
had feeling, but it was one of repul-
sion, for those brown lizards which
kept crawling over the green plates.
However, he understood these things.
and / did not, though he often offered
TO teach, or rather inspire me. Gradu-
ally the house began to fill with these
treasures. Corner shelves and cup
boards appeared, and were crowded.
Cabinets became chock full, and the
fame of the "Crinkleton Collection
began to spread.
As is usual in such cases, public
opinion was divided, one portion of the
community laughing at and plying
that poor man who was wasting his own
and the family substance in lot of old
crockery ard galhpots the other look
ing knowing, and saying that "little
old Crinkleton" knew well what he was
about, and would. by-and.by. sell the
collection for ten times the amount IL
cost him. 1t did, indeed, seem likely
for what he had bought for few shil-
ings he was now offered pounds.
i was all this time what is called CA
little thing "a pet, dividing the affec.
ton of my father with his other treas.
ures. That constituted our united
family finding new relations every
day, in the shape of china dogs. Cbei.
sea shepherds, Dresden beauties, and
Toby jugs. Oh, the Battersea enamel