Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-06-06

And really Mrs. Jones's parlors die
appear eXquisitely tasteful and pretty
when the eventful evening arrived.
The chandelcrs-new for the occa
sion-were draped with smilax; theman
tells banked with cyclamen and begoni;
leaves; the angles of the apartment
filled with tall palms and stately ferns
Miss Buckley was there, with hel
violin, and package of music nearly
as large as Saratoga trunk; the eX
governor and his lady were on time
and the assistant bishop of the Gran.
berry swamp diocese appeared, in q
red-nosed and pompous manner, with
his cousin, Mrs. Heatherley, leaning
on his arm. And, as the room began
to fill, Mrs. Jones waXed a little nerv-
Gus.
81 do hope nothing has happened to
the train,' she thought. elf he
shouldn't be here, after all, | should
feel myself social fraud
But, as the old Antwerp clock in the
corner struck ten, there was a little
hustle, the sound of retreating car
riage-Wheels - Uncle Jones had ar
rived.
And the guests parted right and
left, to admit of the entrance of a
stout old gentleman in a suit of home
dyed butternut-brown, a pair of silver
spectacles, very red hands, entirely in
nocent of gloves, and a blue-checked
shirt.
"Well, Niece JONES' said this re-
markable apparation, grasping Mrs
Jones's pretty, little kid-gloved hands.
I'm dreadful glad to make your ac-
quaintance. And this 'ere's Peter. is
it? | han't seen Peter since he was a
boy"
"Uncle," said Mrs Jones, with sort
of hysteric gasp, "allow me to present
to oyOu--"
"Oh, yes, | see," said Uncle Jones.
Company to tea, eh? Your servant,
ladies and gentlemen, your servant" a."
bowing cOmprehensively around the
room. "And seen' we're all here to-
gether, so nice and friendly" he added
"I'll jest ask you all to look at a new
kind O salve as I've took the agency of
the Electric Agony Eradicator,' only
twenty-five cents a box, and five boxes
for a dollar. Business is business, you
know, and as | make my living this
way, I'm sure my niece and nephew
here won't object to my selling off the
stock-in-trade to the best advantage
before | leave the country. Perhaps
the company don't know that l sail as
skipper of the Lovely Louise next
month-up to the Newfunlan' fshin-
banks, and round by way of Nova
Scotia?"
But gaspel Mrs. Jones, eve
thought-that is, we understood
read in the paper, would say-that
you were to be the ambassador to
China"
"Mew said Uncle Jones. "Not if |
know it! Me go to furrin parts, to be
eaten up with chopsticks, or burned
alive by the coolies? | guess not!
Pr'aps it's John j. Jones you're think.
ing about He's from the same place
as | ana great friend of the admins.
tration--and I've hcerd as he's got a
plump office from the big-bugs at
Washington. I'm John }. Jones'
Jacob, you know, arter my great
gran'ther, as was in the blacksmithy
bus 'nes'. Oh, amt no Chinese am
bassador! I'm only Il salve-manufac-
turer. It'd dreadful good for frosted
feet an ears, the Electric Agony Era
dicator' is-and pr'aps l may have a
good chance to sell few gross of
boxes on board the Lovely Louise, if
it's a middlin' cold Tip"
Poor Mrs. Jones stood aghast as the
distinguished guest of the evening cir
culated around amid the perfumed
groups, with his agony Eradicator,"
selling off the precious panacea with
great success.
Mrs. Heatherley giggled audibly;
the assistant bishop elevated his Roman
nose with an air of superciliousness;
the fair violinist laid down her bow,
and only the instant announcement of
supper would have prevented a general
dissolution of this social parliament.
Uncle Jones ate as if he were a
starved wolf, and then drank as he had
been transformed into a fish; and final
ly fell asleep on u sofa in the corner
and snored aloud, with his pocket full
of "salve-boxes" and a handkerchief
over his face.