New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1878-08-07

not on earth yet till q gDOd while after,
but the other mem bers of the family did.
And my mamma grew up to be q lovely
maiden and got married, but she was not
very happy, for somebody drank. It isa
awful thing to drink. do not mean tea,
or coffee, or lemonade, or milk or likeris
water. or plain water out other things
and often wished the. sayges had let
grandfather alone and then he would
have come home and mamma would have
married some other person and would
not have been E desolate widow with two
girls and one bow,
the end OF tinis.
The moment the old man had finished
reading this story he seized his hat, flung
it upon his head and rushed into Mrs.
Dolf's the kid-glove cleaner without
even stopping to knock at the door,
which was such an unusual thing fol him
to do that Mrs. Dolf started up from her
work in the greatest astonishment, drop
ping the bottle she was holding in her
hand on the floor, where it broke and
made the room smell llke-well like two
hundred pairs Of cleaned kid gloves.
"Wherc does if you please, ma'am-.
MT. Doll buy his clothes'!' asked he.
"Great grief! what has happened? Can
it be possible that the old fellow is going
to buy some new clothes for himself?"
said Mrs. Dolf to herself, and then she
answered out loud, Gle hasn't bought
any for year or so, Mr.. Waste Paper,
but when he does buy 'em he goes to Mr..
Lucky's, right around the corner two
blocks down. Lucky's dead now and
Cutler & Son have the place." ;
| Thank you, ma'am," said Mr.. Waste
Paper, throwing two bright silver quar-
tiers in the lap Of little Cherry, who was
sitting on the door-sill, with her kitten
in her arms, and hurrying away.
And the old man, dressed in Enew
, gray suit and nice straw hat, who called
that afternoon, first on Miss Abeecy, the
school mistress, where he obtained the
address of Ruth Sands Morris, who had
left school about year before to live in
the Village of Mildrose, not very far
away, and the ''Safeandsure Savings
Bank, " where he drew out thousand
dollars in brand new bank notes didn't
look much like Mr.. Waste Paper, but it
was ne all the same. g
The next morning Mrs. Morris, the
pretty widow who lived in the one-and-
a-half story cottage by the woods, in the
village Of Wildrose, was hanging up the
clothes she had Just finished washing, in
the back garden, when the train from the
big city over the river came dashing
along, stopped at Wildrose Station, and
left one passenger, an odd looking, but
looking old man behind it, when it
| dashed away again.
Grandmother Sands stood behind her
holding the clothes pin bag, and young
girl, as pretty as her mother, was scatter
ing some corn among the chickens and
singing up in the Morning EARLY"
s'Dear me-" said the young widow,
taking a clothes-pin from her mouth to
say it, lit almost breaks my heart to leave
this place. We've been so happy here for
the last year"
''They may not find a. purchaser for the
house, said grandmother.
ooh! yes they will. They are sure to
find one [ wish I had eight hundred
dollars, I'd bought it in moment, then
we could have home forever; but there's
no use wishing. never have more than
eight hundred cents at a time nowadays"
and she stopped her mouth again with
another clothes-pin.
I "My dear" said voice directly be-
hind them, and they all turned to see the
old man, who had come out of the woods
so silently they had never heard his foot
steps, leaning over the fence. and gazing
upon them with mild, blue eve,
wouldn't it be funny if gave you the
money!
Grandmother Sands dropped the
clothes-p in-bag, the pretty widow nearly
choked herself with the clothes pin she
had between her teeth, and her pretty
daughter, her song suddenly ended, stood
with one hand held oft toward the chick
ems and her mouth wide open.
Don't you know me, Sallie2" said the
old man: II should have known you any
where, though I haven't seen you for
many long, long years." and he slowly
turned his black eye and then both eyes
upon her and opened the gate and came
in.
Husband u shrieked the grandmoth-
er.
"Father Y cried the daughter.
Grandfather! Hurrah " shouted
Ruth.
The Wealth on Fifth Avenue.
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