Litchfield enquirer., 1874-12-10

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 and pay. of the mortgage on our house, my creditors in addition to the extension Eof time would gain give tis hkeraE credit, land ve eonld go on within week.f'=s.I. t. Ny Sue was; a deyoGt Methodist, had unfinching faith Tn prayer, and, as 1 thought, queer notions about special prov 4iaeH0ess yAs Iagave oheF this brief sketch of my financial difficulties, her eyes were
 bFimMming mi with tears. She. kneeled down
 and fervenfiy prayed with apturned face. Her words to me were friarticuIate. When tshs arose, her faee was less sad. A faint
 smile even lighted up her features. s l. The following morning, as. .Ee sat by
 the grate waiting for breakfast, the ser
 yasss brought in the daily paper My
 wife seized it eagerly, and to my astonish- | ment turned to the column of public
 amusementS, After. reading few mo-
 ments she handed it to Uncle Ben, point ing with her finger to the place. Uncle
 Ben read aloud: 'sThe whole to conclude
 with Imaginable Equestrian Burletta of I The Hunted Tailor, or 4 Trip 10 Brent John Cook. l Alax, said the old man, as he folded up his aspeetaeles. 'tI must go and see | that tonight. have n't had laugh at I Billy Button for twenty years
 Certainly, Uncle Ben, replied. ''I
 would like to go with you and have good iau8h also; and as you have intimated
 that you will be detained at the drove kyaSd all day, We will meet at tea-time," In the early dusk of evening, as I en- tered the hall, heard Sue at the piano. I Approaching the. door of the back parlor l found her singing. to an old fashioned
 cross-hand accompaniment, song, the
 name Of which need not repeat when l say the words fshe uttered just then Mgfe, = 9salI4 --C .-.
 s.'fhou has called me thy angel in moments of
 Thy angel I'll bs mid the horrors of this" aeI had not heard the old song for years:
 used to laugh at its queer sentimental ism. But now there seemed to be a pa thos. In the words, and n depth of feeling tlieif exBfession, quite unusual in Sue $
 singing, notwithstanding my appreciation
 of its quaint drollery. Walking up soft
 on her shoulder, I sad :- 31
 sWhose angel will you be, .Sue?' l ssWhY, yours of course, my dear unso- 1 phisticated." she replied, looking up; and her face flushed as if she had betrayed
 some closely kept secret. Recovering her self quickly, she continued:-
 ''But your better angel is in the other
 room, tending the baby"
 1 Looking through the folding-d doors,
 there sat Uncle Cook at the window, with
 Lulie on his knee.3 She had so complete l ly daubed and smeared the window-panes
 with her little ''patties," that i did not
 observe the happy pair as I walked up
 the front door steps 1 l found that my wife had passed the day at Germantown with her uncle, and
 had prevailed on him to accompany her
 home. Uncle Cook was short, stout. square-bullt old man, little stoop-shoul- dered, in whose face mantled the same
 rich Dutch blood that usually shone in
 Sues cheek. I had scarcely time to shake 1 hands with him before the street door
 bell rang. Sue flew to the door and ush-
 cred in Uncle Ben. Introducing them,
 she said:-
 Uncle Ben Slaughter, this is my Un- iHcle John Cook. He IS as fond of going to the circus as you are, end intends to stay all night with us, and go with you and l Ajax to see Billy Button. 8, A 2 Ii, --" | ' The two old men shook hands, and opr auncle on myzwifais side lsaial:--ss.aara i4sa ffsBnt Tam not John Cook the clown. I
 don't look much like a circus-rider. do lI?" 'tsNo, said Uncle Ben. in his bluff way, l looking down at Uncle Cooks portly fig
 ure. s''I think you are built more for
 dodging than jumping fences" They both laughed at this wittisism,
 and we then sat down to tea. When it
 was over we went to see ''the grand en-
 tree;" the ''still vaulsing by the whole
 company the strange man who came
 staggering ont of the pit into the ring and
 wanted to ride a certain vicious horse,
 and was allowed to do so, and throwing
 oil lnnumerable ragged garments as he
 rode. at last stood in long white shirt,
 which he also evhntually threw off, ap-
 bearing in spangles, and then, ''The
 Hunted Tailor, or Trip to Brentford ,
 had heavy heart on account of my bus
 mess troubles, and 1t was great relief to join with these two simple old men in the ] laugh at the mishaps of Billy Button. ! The performance was over early, and as
 we entered the hall on our return, Uncle
 Ben exclaimed, as he did the night be- fore,-,
 "Whe-e CIV! smell oysters" It struck |
 Sue, from the stairway. called out pretty ! much in the same words as she did the l night before, ''Walk into the dining
 room, Uncle Ben, you and Uncle Cook
 and Ajax; I'll be down presently"
 This evening, however, her voice was tremulous, and had not it's usual silvery | tone. i'@
 | 1t appeared to me that Sue had an ob- l lecs in all this There was the same set
 out we had the previous evening; oysters, ! ale, bread, butter, and pickles, and some
 cigars in the baby's silver cup which Un- cle Cook had given it, sitting on the man. tel-piece.
 | After supper my wife took her sewing I and sat down to her workstand as on the night before. She was pale now, and ev- ldently nervous, but still tried to look
 composed. I felt anxious about her, and suggested that she should go to bed. If we had been alone I would have insisted on it.
 As soon as Uncle Cook had finished his cigar. she laid down her sewing and got l up and, came round the workstand. and sat on his knee, with her arm around his neck, and kissed him. Then she asked
 him to. tell Uncle Ben and myself the sto- " he used to tell her when she was a lit tie girl and sat on his knee as she did then; to tell about his being a copper smith, and how he received his money for the whiskey stills he sold out to Ken tucky-Uncle Ben was from Kentucky. The old man cleared his throat, and as Sue resumed her seat at the workstand he said:- -s
 Ioal"Weil, it's not much of a story, but when Sue was a little girl I frequently amused her by telling about my old boss, Samuel Lewis. When I had served out my apprenticeship with him, and set up bfor myself. We were neighbors, in Front Street, and good friends for many years. We did not interfere with each other in trade He sold his coppers mostly to Western Pennsylvania. and sold mine in the main in Kentucky. He received his pay pretty much in silver. and got mine, whenever I could, in gold, as it had to be
 brought farther Sometimes it was a queer coin. and it was hard to get at the exact value of 1t. A remittance was ire k1ry # n