The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1876-03-18
ITVI tno ItsssT
Uncle Timothy.
BY ATLANTA.

John Percy-a banker of English parentage,
quite young, sufficiently rich, and the best OF
good fellows; his wife-my sister Laura,
considered by John and her afectionate
brother the very sweetest woman in New
York; the three children of the aforesaid
John and Laura-Nora. Ned (my namesake)
and Alice, the baby; lastly myself, Edward
Wilson, journalist, a sub editor upon the
staff of one OF the great daily newspapers.
1t is not at all my present intention to
describe journalistic experiences, or to dilate
with pride upon the power of the press. 1t
is with no wish to advertise our paper that 1
write-I who in capacity of brother, uncle,
brother-in-law, nephew-in-law and Greek
chorus generally, assisted at this episode of
December, 1873, that John rented pleasant
house in Forty fifth street, somewhat re-
moved from Fifth Avenue, it is true, but in a
quiet, agreeable neighborhood. On the even
ing ofthe goth of December we, with the ex-
ception of thelitte Alice, were sitting around
the fire, in the library, John reading his let
tiers and papers, Laura sewing. 1 turning over
the pages of magazine.
'This reviewer doesn't fancy your last
critique, Ned" said my brother.in-law."
she says it is narrow-minded and one
sded.''
"Ceaily he is right" 1 answered. 'tBut
his opinion is perhaps modified by the fact
that he wished to be member of the COM
mon council last autumn, and we told what
we knew about him.
"He says that pet paragraph of yours was
stolen from Ruskin."
"Of course" 1 rejoined, "thal's always
the case. A writer in these days has not
fair chance. I always notice that Ruskin, or
Shakespeare, or Mark Twain or some other
beggar has usually quoted my best things be-
fore it occurred to me to say Them"
GLOW horrid of himp' sympathetically
murmured my sister-meaning the rival jour-
nAist, not Shakespeare.
And so we chatted, in desultory fashion
and all the while, the letter that was to affect
the fortunes of this family, lay unopened
upon the table. At last John took it I'D.
looked little curiously at the unfamiliar
hand OF the address, opened it, read few
lines, and exclaimed:
"My uncle Timothy!'
Evidently this was not mere obligatory
phrase, harmless species of profanity.
There was clearly some connection between
the letter that had caused his emotion, and
this individual of whom he spoke. Again
he repeated the name. and Laura asked,
"Who is your uncle Timothy, deara'
"My fathers brother, you know-he ran
Off to sea when he was boy" Here my
small nephew Ned became deeply interested,
vista opened to his imagination) 1--WE never
said much about him in the family, my grand
father disowned hm-but my grandmother
grieved for him her life long," continued
John, gravely.
At this sad denouement, Ned, I fancy, re-
turned to his favorite plan of keeping can
dy-store when he should be man.
"It seems from this letter." said my broth
er-in-law, shat after many adventures, of
course merely alluded to in it, that he settled
in India, in the country few miles from Del
hi, amassed fortune in the indigo trade;
and wishes, an old man, to spend Christmas
with us; and, if mutually agreeable, to
pass his few remaining years among the
consultations of home and relatives
"How perfectly lovely" exclaimed Laura.
'My dear cd boy" said I, with the fatal
p1escience of newspaper man, che will be
no end of trouble to you, he will make the
children i'll with too many bonbons; he will
ciamor for unlimited curry in everything,
and make row with your cook; and finally
die on your hands, leaving all his money to
missions"
'tNed, you are perfectly horr:d,' cried nv
sister. Then felt sure that she agreed with
me.
Moreover" 1 said, ''this sort of uncle ex.
isis only in fiction or the sensational drama
of powerful domestic INTEREST,"
Edward" interposed my brother-in law
with dignity ''my uncle Timothy will be
welcome to my home. He is already in the
city, at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and TO-
morrow shall bring him to the house."
1 expressed my regret at having spoken
with disrespect of the newly found uncle.
and the evening passed in customary cosy
fashion.
The next day Uncle Timothy made his ap-
pearance, attended by brown, quiet, Hindoo
servant. Even was forced to acknowledge
that Uncle Timothy was in all respects the
Ideal Uncle from India. Apparently about
seventy years of age, yellow as parchment
wrinkled, spare, wearing wig very little de-
ceptive, carrying gorgeous Indian handker-
chief-this was the appearance of the retired
merchant in indigo. His manner was gentle,
affectionate, patriarchal. My brother-inlaw
received his blessing with enotion; Laura
pronounced him perfectly lovely" and the
children were charmed with him. I only,
hardened by the experience of journalism re-
NAMED impossible. Could have done less,
considering my predictions of the inconveni-
ence he would cause to my sisters household?
Nevertheless l blamed myself for it, re-
doubled my attentions to the good old
gentleman, strove to feel for him the
affection he so richly merited-and became
convinced that had bad heart. The genial
manners, the frank address, the thoughtful
courtesy of Uncle Timothy proved that in
in him, too, the pleasant family traits of the
Percys were innate; and his habits, though
a little eccentric, were simple and kindly.
Later it will appear how ill-grounded were
my prejudces, and how, through the means
of worthy Uncle Timothy, have become
prosperous journalist, with ten thousand dol
lars to the good. This is, however, not the
place for homily upon hasiy Judgments
this story of how long lost uncle returned
TO pass the Christmas-tide with his relatives
shall be, as far as possible, inspired by spirit
of charity and goodfellowship entirely Dick
ensesque.
In the course of few days, Uncle limo
Thy had become quite domesticated in the
family. 1t was about this time that series of
hold and skilfully executed robberies was
alarming the city. They we've evidently the
work of professional burglars; varied in de-
tail, without any eliminating clues, occurr-
ing ffequently-they were the despair of the
detectives, who had not succeeded in captur-
;o, opu Of tLo fl;auac This efaio Of 4b;po..