Litchfield enquirer., 1880-03-18
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more al. once. He was quite different from the other Johns and not at all formidable, Polly thought-tall and spare, quiet in speech snt shy in wearing sRsctace. oO of diverse meanings may be included in that word, beloved of girls, "nice."
 In John Gilmore's case it meant that he did not talk nonsense to Polly and yet that he seemed to like the nonsense she talked at least he frightened under it always, and it made him laugh He never bored her with sense and long explanations, but she was never in his company without finding herself after ward thinking about things which he had said and looking up little points of information suggested by his talk. He was 80 kind-heart- ed, too-always so kind! He didn't sheer at her diatribes against love and lovers; and he seemed to understand and be little sorry for her, left out in the cold, solitary in the midst of :he sisterly circle once 80 one in interest and so closely united. Here was genuine friend at last, she rehected-a friend of her own and comforted thereby for her losses, she grew little more tolerant of the happiness of other people; and even when, 8 little later great wave of surprises and sudden changes broKe over the home and all in it, still the tolerance continued.
 For, first, John Norman had partnership offered him in South America, and he and Eunice had to be got ready at two months mo-
 
 Polly was toiling over the hurried preparation | which was all that time made possible, Susan Gilmore, her one special friend, called one morning, and with burst of emotion quite unwonted in the staid Sue, confided the fact that she was engaged-engaged to O. O., who was the loveliest, dearest man that ever was though Polly had been so unkind as not to find it out-a fact she (Sue) was very glad of | nl0ao-and they were to be married in six weeks, and sail for China directly afterward. And would her dearest Polly forgive her, and promise to love O.O., all she possibly could, just for her sake?
 s"You too?" was all Polly's reply. But she put her arms round Sues neck with tear and 8 sob, and all was smooth between them. Sue, who had dreaded the interview, was amazed l at Polly's forbearance. A change had evident ly come over the spirit of her dream. Trials we are told, nave a christening effect on the character. Was it her trials which were thus blessed to Polly?
 After that, all was bewilderment and confu- sion dire till the two weddings were over. Ennice and John departed the day after theirs, and Hull fell upon the weary household. Mrs. Patten went up stairs to lie down. Polly, who sighed for fresh air, departed for walk with John Gilmore, who missed his sister SO much, poor fellow and Amy. the cGdette of the family, prepared to celebrate their newly recovered freedom by adorning and making beautiful the dining room, now rescued from courting purposes, and restored again to the common use of the household
 A busy afternoon indeed did little Amy make for herself, but it was a merry one and | she sang as she worked. Every vase in the room she filled with violets and wild flowers, ! or apple blooms from the just blossomed or l chard. The curtains were pulled to exactly the ideal angle the chairs rGgrouped, all the horrid look taken away, Amy thought, as if | the room were meant for only two, and for no one else. It was dusk when she finished and curling up in the sofa corner. she awaited with impatience Polys return-Polly, who had hated the e-making as much as she had, and would be so pleased! Polly was the one person in the house of whose sympathy Amy | felt quite sure.
 She was long in coming, but she came at last. Amy heard her step on the porch, and with it another step, louder, frmer. Surely | that tiresome John Gilmore was not coming in to spoil everything this first pleasant night | No ; he had come to sees-papa Amy heard | him tap at the door of the 'den," while Polly ran up stairs. He emerged as she came down. there was long confabbing in the entry but | at last the front door shut with delightful emphasis, and Amy jumped up from the sofa to enjoy the effect of her surprise.
 Come inch, do come in !" she cried. II want you to see if the dear old room doesn't look lovely. I've been all the afternoon doing it, so that it might be nice for our first evening | Isn't it pleasant to have room 10 sit in again? Aren't you glad that the wedding is over. and all the tiresome love- making and we can have 1 cozy little times at home like other people? | Why, Polly how queer you loOk Don't you like it What makes you do so?"-for Polly half tearfully, was kissing and fondling the l child.
 Oh, do, Amy darling, I do like it very | , ,>lo Jal D<>lI, pet, Pm afraid you'll be very disappointed; but John Gilmore is coming here this evening to see me, and Pm afraid shall have to ask 1 you to let us have this room."
 'John Gilmore Good graciousl Polly Pat ten''-with almost shriek-''youre not en- gagged to him? You don't mean uat?
 Y-e-e-s," faltered Polly.
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 The Bishop of Winchester was once very neatly, ''sold" by one of his own clergy in the diocese of Oxford, the Rev. Frank Burgess. M. Burgess was an ardent fox-hunter. The Bishop, although athorough horseman, detested sporting parsons. But Frank Burgess was not an easy man to deal with. He was independent and testy. Wilberforce tried two or three plans indirectly to let the fox-hunting parson know thatshe dlsapproved of the pastime, but, finding that these had no effect, the Bishop de- | termined to speak for himself and, meeting Burgess one morning in Oxford he gently led l up to the obnoxious topic. You had capi- tai day yesterday, MT. Burgess for fox hunt ing in your nelghborhood." ''Yes, my lord," said Burgess 'most excellent, and a capital field and splendid run." I suppose you do not hunt now ?'' said the Bishop, interrOgative- ly.. Not much my lord," replied Burgess and then, recOllectlng the Bishops objection, and thinking that this reply might be con- strued as casuistical, the Vicar added, 'Not so much as should like, my lord" ''No, l dare say not, /" said the Bishop; ''but-but"- looking with that peculiar glance of his, a glance half sarcastic and half ironical-''do you think, MT. Burgess, that your presence in the hunting field adds to your influence among your parishloners ?" II do not know whether it adds to my influence, my lord, replied Bur gess 'but I do not know that it detracts from it." The Bishop thought It necessary to be frank now in turn, and putting on a severe | tone, he read the Vicar a sharp lecture upon the eunprofessional character of fox hunter in 8 black coat. Burgess listened as respectfully as he could; but when the lecture was over he | bowed and asked permission to make one ob- I servation. This was to point out to the Rish- op that in the newspapers of day or two be- fore his name had appeared as one of those present at a State ball. ''Ah, yes, " said the Bishop promptly, ''but if you had been there you would have seen that l was never in the same room with the dancers, Mir Burgess never in the same room." "And that, my lord, said Burgess with equal promptness, Sis my case. have such bad cattle that, though I ride to hounds pretty often, am never in the same field with the hunt-never, my lord !' .ss .- --..l .t .'.. Shipments of fresh meets from this country to England increase in rapid ratio. Accord ing to summary printed in the Tribune of Monday the total shipments by steamer from New York, last week, comprised 1.221 head of cattle, $50 sheep 300 pigs, 2.408 quarters, and eos tons of fresh meat, and $50 carcasses of sheep. Canada, South America and Austra- | lia have entered the field as competitors for this trade. and may be able to control the market for dressed meats, but the supply of live stock, cattle. sheep and swine, must be