Connecticut western news., 1874-02-27
He Keeus A Horse and Carriage,

The man across the way, says the Danbury NeaOS, has horse and carri- age. We have none. Three sadder words we never saw. The man across the way drives gaily forth every pleasant afternoon with his wife beside him. And we envy him and can't help it. There are others of the neighbors who envy him, and could we read each others hearts we would find that our thoughts were following the lucky horseman in his various turns about town, in his cantering here and trot- ting there, and in the shine of his car riage and the proud bearing of his horse. But if it is sadness to see him drive away, there is pleasure in see- ing him come back. For it is dark when he returns, the sunshine is gone, and in it's stead is darkness with frost in it. He smiled complacently when he handed his wife into the carriage, but he doesn't smile when he hands her out. Perhaps the operation re- quires so much care and attention that it would not be right to smile. We know his nose is red because we can see it as he drives by the lamp. We know that his feet are frigid and that his legs are asleep, by the way he gets down to the ground. We are beginning to see how wrong it is to envy our fel- bowman. He looks at her as she runs genial burner, and gloomily won him. He stumbles painfully along to the stable with the horse, which he now thoroughly despises, rambling be- l. l. l- l. | can hardly undo the fastenings of the door his legs have awakened, and appear to be representing him his eyes are full of water. and his soul overflow ing with discontent. No harness was ever before so difficult to remove as is this. He feels the wrath bubbling up to the highest water-mark, and he could scream out-he is so mad. We are seeing now howjwicked it is to envy our fellow man. He hears footsteps on the sidewalk, and sees the flash of warm light shoot out into the cold air as the various neighbors, having re- turned from their work, nd having no horse, disappear hastily within, and take with them the bright, cheerful light. He gets the horse in the door, and starts to look up the lantern. He bumps various parts of his anatomy against articles it is too dark to learn the nature of. He would cry out in his pain and misery were he not awed by the astonishing profusion of the things he is falling over. He gives up the lantern and pulls off the harness to hang it up. The straps dangle down and get under his feet, and trip him, and the impatient animal suddenly bolts into the stall before it is fully un- dressed. Then there is another search for the lantern, and during it he raps his head against beam, and the blow is so violent that it stirs up every one of his ideas, including the one which tells him that the lantern was taken into the house last night to be cleaned. He stumbles back over the frozen clods and into the house, where the bright light and warm air render him more gloomy and morose. He vouchsafes no information to the appropriate query from his wife if it was cold out, but darkly hints of impending retribu- tion to whoever doesn't quit fooline with that lantern; and then stalks back to the stable. And there for the next fifteen minutss he employs himself in arranging the bedding, mixing the feed, and pondering on the advantage he has over his neighbors in having 6 horse and carriage of his own, to gc where he pleases, and come when he it is dark.