Connecticut western news., 1877-06-29
BARBARA'S UNCLE.

With her seW1ng-machlne. Around her were great piles ofvests, which she had just finished. Though the room was so small, the sunlight came in and tinged everything with its golden light. In- deed, the sun is no respecter of persons, and steps as freely into the dwellings of the poor, as into the mansions of the rich.
 The young girl paused in her work to listen to the song of robin under her window; then she began to sing to her self in care-free, happy way. Just thep.she heard an old body hobbling up the stairs, and afterward came knock at her door. Barbara went to open it.. An aged man stood before her-ninety he might have been, to judge by his withered face.
 'Is this Barbara Henrich? ?'' he asked Tn piping voice.
 "Yes," said Barbara, smiling. "Come in." -.-%
 The old man put his hand to his ear, as if quite unable to catch word.
 "Come in," she shouted; and he fol- lowed her into the room.
 'sI'm your Uncle Jacob, ,' he screamed, as if she were as deaf as himself-''your mothers only brother; and l have come to find you."
 "Ay, ay," said Barbara, with whom the love of kindred was very strong. ..
 The longer she gazed into his face, the more she saw the look of her mother. There was the same kind smile, the same merry glance in the twinkling, gray eyes. So she fell to hand-shaking in her hearty German fashion; then came the tears, and it all ended by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. ..
 A short time afterward, Barbara be- gan to set the table, for to talk with her old uncle was impossible. Just as she had finished, by placing huge platter of cabbage as centre dish, up the stairs came her brothers, Conard and Joe. They were much the worse for lager, as they usually were at night, and when they saw decrepit old man sitting at their table. they were any thing but pleasant.
 ''It's our Uncle Jacob," said Barbara, softly, "come to us from Germany-our dear mothers only brother. l wish he wasn't so deaf, so want to talk with him.'
 A moment afterward, as Conrad and Joe began to swear, she was glad that he could not hear them. Barbara gave the old man her bed; then she sat down to do little extra work, that she might buy comforts for him. At length she lay down upon hard couch, but sleeE soon came, for she was young anC healthy. Next morning, Uncle Jacot was too i'll to rise.
 "Send the old body to the poor house," said the brothers in breath ''it's too much to expect us to suppor all our pauper relations"
 "Indeed he shall not go," said Bar bara, with spirit; Sour mother lovet him too we'll for that. Don't you re member how she used to talk abou him? He was her only brother, ant has neither chick nor child to care fo him. Just see how like mother h, looks as she did in her very last sick ness."
 The young men answered her roughly and, putting on their boots, stalked ou of the room. Barbara bathed the olt mans head, and with few soft touche about the pillow, that love alone cal give, she went back to her work.
 That night the brothers came hom more drunk than usual-to pick u, their things and start for the West, the, said.
 "You'd better go with us, Barbara We're going to make money like dirt and as to staying here and supporting an old pauper, we will not do it.''
 "No, indeed, will not leave him, said Barbara. But when she saw then going down stairs with their satchel on their arms, the love of kindred which was so strong in her heart, mad her follow them. "Let us shake hands, she said, softly, ''we may never mee again ;' and, rough as they were, the returned her warm kiss, and said, "Go bless you," ere they departed.
 When they were gone, Barbara wen hack to her room and cried as if he heart would break. In the midst of he weeping, there was a well-known foot fall on the stairs, and in minute more her friend Fred Heiberger, was besid her.
 "Don't fret" said the young man kindly, taking her hand in his; "you' get along better without Conrad an Joe."
 'I couldn't turn away my mother
 brother," said Barbara, sobbing. ''No, indeed; you're brave gir and you've done right"
 Then he began to tell her about little bakers shop that was that da , vacant and could be had for tw
 hundred dollars a year. There wer two rooms above with sunny window' in which, he said, her lilies and rose . could but grow.
 , ''Shall take them, and we be marie at once ?" he asked.
 f "No," said Barbara; "somethin s might happen-let us wait. You'd hay 8 to borrow the money, and could n' h sleep with an unpaid debt.' = "Yes," said Fred, "there's a risl 8 But it was such good stand, and m :, heart ran away with me. said to my T self, that would make good brea' L and uivo hnpost wniuht and parh al . have a penny for the poor and needy. Barbara's face frightened as U spoke, but she answered.- l "It will all come right in time-l us work and wait.'
 "Perhaps so," said Fred, with sigl kon h 1lx,.,A Al,