Connecticut western news., 1884-01-09

1ul, dunno. Et you was man, you u put your hand into your pocket and let us know"
 "Don't beg from him I" cried Miriam.
 ''I ain't beggin' l" cried Deb. "He's your cousin, and he's robbed ye. Why, honey, he knows dat house was your'n, md de groun', and all He knows you don't lie. He jis' cheats ye cause ye ain't got some bit of writing about it. He knows-and he's de meanest cuss agoin'."
 John Hcugh blushed scarlet.
 five given you house-rent free for two months" he said, "and these are my thanks. See here, now. I've ten ant for these rooms-and the sooner you're out, the better"
 You mean to turn us out?" asked Deb.
 "I mean to have rent for my rooms," said John, avoiding Miriam's eyes as he spoke. "You see, I'm not so> rich as people think"
 Deb arose and stood before him, Haunt ing her ball, with its protruding paper, in his face.
 'You see dat dere, Marsa John," she said-"dat was wound to knit your pas socks. I've kep it so ever sence; jis so much-when de worsted broke and run to open de door. Seems as eff bringin' it away an all sot on it-an' seems as eff he knowed I kep it. Dat was wound de very night your pa gave dat house an groun' an huff to keep her an me an de chile to Mrs. Miriam heered him. swar dat-an' b'leive he hears mel Now wouldn't do it Marsa John -ef 'twarnt true, would I?"
 1T don't know what you'd do, woman, ', cried John Hough. "What I require is evidence give me that, and I ask no more. But you haven't got it; and what has all that rubbish about a ball of yarn to do with it? I know my father wore stockings-I don't care who knit 'em, or when-don't flourish that in my face, you old fool"
 And so speaking, he pushed the old woman-whose attitude was actually somewhat interchangeable, and in doing so knocked the ball from her hand. She caught 1t, but only held the worsted, and as 1t unwound in blue.gray coils, the foundation of its greatness fell, unloosed, at Miriam's feet. She stopped and picked it up. Something arrested her glance.
 ''This is parchment" she cried. "It is document of some kind. Where did you get it, Deb?"
 Out of marsa's room de night he died," said Deb, solemnly.
 And Miriam, holding 1t tight, cast her eyes over the lines written on it's surface and signed with her dead uncle's name.
 Deborah, it IS the deed of gift P she cried.
 And tainted away.
 And Miriam spoke the truth. The lit. tie document, which so ordered things that she need want no longer, had been with them thorugh all their tribulation and starvation, under Deb's ball of worsted.
 "I've took care ont SO long without lznowin' ont" said Deb, "and I'll keep it safe now, and nobody don't get it from me-"
 And it may be doubted whether Deb slept in her anxiety until the paper was in proper hands and Miriam and her little one restored to their old home with ample provision for their comfort.
 There they live now, and if you visit them old Deb will tell you the story i; adding, by way of climax:
 "De way ob Providence is mysterious. Ef dat worsted hadn't tumbled into my lap, shouldn't have wound it; and eff I hadn't wound it. wouldn't have got dat deed of gif' I thought was only scrabbled paper and eff hadn't kep it, whar'd we bin now? LOT only knows; don't"
 And so, as it is plain to see, she takes credit to herself for the whole proceed ing.