The Van Buren press., 1874-04-28
MR.. BUTT0NBALL's VISION.

Nov, Uncle Buttonball, think you
are foolishly prejudiced about it. >
|. MIR. Benedict Buttonball, commonly
called Uncle Ben, shook bis head at
Frank Worrall's levity.
Maybe l am" said he. "but were
not to blame for our convictions ! can
help mine, anyhow And couldn't any
more marry in the face fmy promise to
Hephsibak, than eould--join the Nor
mons"
Panlina Pepper is pretty girl. said
Frank, meditatively, cleaning his nails.
"And good girl, too. Although not
young
Iii she was, she wouldn't he suitable
to me !" said Mr. Buttonball. II don t
deny that it's all true enough, what yon
say. But, you perceive, I'm the victim
OF circumstance
Circumstance be hanged y CALCULATED
Frank Worrall, losing his temper at last,
and banging the door behind him, as he
hurried out of the room.
While Mr. Buttonball again shook his
head, took his silver spectacles out of
their case, and unfolded the newspaper.
"Poly Pepper would make nice
wife," he thought to himself "As
plump and round and fresh colored as n
Semptember peach, or cabbage rose I;
and woman, too, that thoroughly un
derstands house keeping. almost wish
hadn't promised my dear departed
Hephsibah never to marry again. But
it's all past and over, and it can't be un-
done, more's the PITY
And resolutely dismissing all shadow
speculations, Mr. Buttonball plunged into
the three syllabled tides Of political
leader, in the Hopton Clarion Of Prog-
ress
"Isn't he fool - said Dorothy Mar
tin, petulanily jerking her necdIeful Of
worsted through the square Of canvas
she was embroidering. And is he real
ly so superstitious about breaking the
promise that unreasonable vrago Of a
wife exacted from him p
Unquestionably he is, " said Frank
WorralI, screwing and unscrewing the
top of Dorothy's ivory needle case +" /
suppose he actually believes that my
Aunt Hephsibah would haunt him, If he
married again, without her express per
mission. For man Of ordinary intelli
gence, Uncle Buttonball is supersIilous.
"Howl" questioned Dorothy
"Oh, he sees winding-shcets in the
candle, believes there will be death in
the family, il a dog chances to howl un
der the window, and would sooner cut
off his right hand than begin haying, or
go on a journey on Friday"
Frank y hesitatingly began Dorothy.
"Welli"
"What sort Of woman was your
Aunt Hephsibah? You know ! never
saw her She died before came to Hop.
ton to live.
"A little, fat woman. with spectacles,
and n brown forc-tep, who always wore
brown giugham, and talked through her
nose. forgot, thoush-she had mon
slrosity of cap, with frill two inches
wide all around 1t, and colossal bow Of
snuff eolored ribbon perched on the very
top-a guy Of a cap, only fit for scare
crow.
mot at all like Pauline Pepper" said
Dorothy. And Pauline really likes
Mr.. Buttonball--ands she needs a home,
poor'thing. Not to speak OF MIR Button
balls evident admiration for Paulina 1t
would certainly be match. if
"lf it wasn't for the departed saint in
snuff colored ribbons, said Frank, with
an irreverent imitation Of his Uncle But.
tonhall's peculiar intonation when speak
ing Of his deceased wife.
For Aunt Hephsbah had ruled Mr..
Buttonball with rod of iron during her
life time, and it actually seemed as ii she
were determined not to let up" any af-
ter sho was safely screwed down into her
coffin.
Poor Paulina, said Dorothy, look
ing thoughttully out into the bleak No
vcmber sky where leatless boughs were
tossing to and fro in the moaning wind,
aud stray flakes of flutterng snow beto.
kcned coming tempest
"And poor Uncle Battonbal," echoed
Frank Wcrral Upon the whole, darl
ing, it looks like hard case.
"Past eleven o'clock y said Uncle
Buttenhall, looking up at the clock over
the rims of his silver spectaces. swell,
| hadn't an idea it was SO late. And
showing and blowing like all possessed,
and The wind ho Wing down the chimney
fit to set mans teeth on edge Just
such night as poor H.phsibah died
four years ago, and---bless me-" with n
slight, cold shiver down his spinal col
umn "If it amt the 20th of November
the identical anniversary of the sad
event Poor Hephsy," folding his hands
and looking thoughtfully into the tire !;
I" hope she's happy in the other world
She never took much comfort In this,
what with dies, and dust, and poor kitch
en help
And then Mr. Buttonball fell into q
doze, or a reverie--he never could be
quite certain which--from which he was
aroused by the old kitchen clock striking
twelve.
Midnight! 1t amt possible" cried
Mr.. Bultonball. chilly, uncomfortable,
and superstitious. 'And the fire even
most out guess I'll rake it up and
90 to bed
But as he rose with sort of rheumatic
stiffness from the chair, the door leading
from the buttery creaked slightly, slow,
heavy footstep sounded on the floor, and
"A III l.l ,..I tn.l