Connecticut western news., 1879-12-24

man, Mother Wiggin, in her suller," of which Rob had spoken.
 She was at first reticent, but finally, under MT. Fosters skillful management, not only made full confession, but pro- duced from the depths of an old wooden chest some articles which had belonged to Rob's mother-a hymn book with her name in it, few photographs, and letter written just before her death, in which she implored her father to take care of her helpless child.
 The letter she had intrusted to Moth or Wiggin, who had held it back, but refrained from destroying it, thinking, she said, that if the child should turn sickly, she would send him to his rela- tives with the letter as proof.
 * * *
 It was Christmas Day. Deacon Reed and his wife sat before blazing hickory fire, the deacon with his hands clasped on his crossed knees, ,twirling his thumbs, while his wife, who could not bear to be idle on even Christmas Day, was en- gagged in knitting.
 They had just returned from long ride to hear "Christmas Sermon," at the deacon's church, and their daughter Sally was now setting the table for sup per, assisted by the hired girl, for the deacon was well-to-do, and required help on his farm. A big dog lay on one side of the fire, and digniied cat dozed on the other. The picture was homelike and cheerful looking.
 The deacon, as he twirled his thumbs, gazed into the fire. He was tall, thin man, whose stern look belied his natural kindness of heart. Brought up in an austere religious atmosphere, he acted often against the impulse of his own feelings in mistaken sense of duty.
 His wife was a kindly-faced, gentle hearted woman, and Sally was cheery and rosy and buxom-a model farmers daughter. Very unlike was she to her fair and elder sister, Bessie, who eight years ago had secretly left her fathers roof to follow the fortunes of the man she loved, and whose selhshness and dissipation had wrecked her young life.
 From that time, her father had refused to see or even hear from her. The diso- bsdient daughter who had dared to set his wishes and authority at defiance and to bring discredit upon his and her mothers bringing-up, deserved punish ment, and must suffer.
 So he had said, and accordingly had he acted and only his wife knew, if any did, the struggle that went on in the fathers heart against this stern sense of duty.
 ''I wish," said Sally, as she set on the tea-kett1e and glanced down the we'll filled table-'I wish we had somebody to set down to supper with us. Here's turkey and mince-pies enough for dozen. I wouldn't have taken the trouble to put on all these things, but it's Christmas, and I like to see a we'll spread table on Christmas Day, if ever."
 She stepped to the window to close the curtains.
 "How it snowsl It's we'll that you got home in time, mother, for there's going to be real, downright showstorm. Why, who can that be?"
 And Sally flushed up little as knock was heard at the outer door.
 "It's George Haight, guess," her mother said :; ''just in time for supper. Open the door, Sally, and put on an- other log, father"
 Sally gave furtive glance into the looking glass as she passed. She was, however, doomed to disappointment, as her exclamation of surprise on opening the door betrayed.
 The next moment she returned, ushering in two very odd-looking guests-our old friends-Rob and I've.
 MT. Foster had seen that Rob was well and warmly clad as regarded un- derclothing, but for reasons of his own, preferred that he should make his ap- pearance before his grandfather in the dilapidated outer garments in which he had himself first seen him. This had not, however, met Tye's views of the fitness of things; and Rob with his picture under his arm, now appeared arrayed in an overcoat of Tye's own. which had already known several ownerships, whilst I've himself was tastefully and appropriately gotten up for the occasion in gorgeous vest and stylish necktie. He wore also look of resolution and defiance, as if resolved to stand by his small friend and see that his rights were properly secured to him.
 "Why, my goodness, where on earth do you, children, come from at this time of night, and in such weather ?" erred Sally, as she hustled them dangerously near the fire.
 "From New York City," I've replied.
 "By yourselves?" inquired the old lady, surveying them in pitying wonder.
 "No ma'am., MT. Foster came with us as far as Greenpoint Station. He got man he knew to give us lift most as fur as this. He had to go on to Albany; but he says he'll be along here in day or two.'
 "And he sent you to us2' ina uired the deacon, curiously.
 "Yes, sir."
 Here I've, despite his coolness and courage, looked little nervous.
 "He sent me along to take care o1 him." pushing Rob forward. "He's your grandson"
 "My grandson !"
 The deacon gave a great start, anG his wife clasped her hands.
 "His name's Robert Austin, and he'G your dead daughters child," said I've solemnly.