Connecticut western news., 1884-01-09

that it was evident that nothing else had been in his mind from the first.
 "It appears that there is no will, y said he, sitting with his elbows on the par Tor table the day after the funeral, "so l have nothing to do but to take posses sion. How soon'll you be able to move, Cousin Miriam ?"
 Miriam looked at old Deb.
 T suppose I shall not move at all, |" he said. "Uncle Hiram gave me this house and enough, he said, to keep me in it."
 John grunted.
 "Oh, he did, eh?" he said. "Wel, you'll let us look at the deed of gift, or whatever it IS, won't you2 I'm bnsi- ness man, you know"
 Miriam looked at Deb again. "Deb heard him." she said. "He told me so on his death-bed, and-yes-he said something of Q deed of gift. There must be one. But that can't make much difference, Cousin John. You will do what he wished, know"
 Cousin John stared at the speaker blankly.
 "If there is anything to prove it, I'm sure I shall," he said. But It state ment from the party interested don't stand in law. Of course, you know where he kept his papers"
 And Miriam indicating the library, the man of business and the legal gen. tleman who had been summoned to the spot, proceeded to make search, but found nothing. In fact, before long it seemed quite certain that old Hiram Hough must have been wandering in his mind when he spoke of a deed of gift. At least his son John said so.
 "So you see," said John to his poor cousin, ESQ you see, Cousin Miriam, we've done our best. There's no such document. You'll have to work for your Twin like other poor women, suppose. And ss you can't work here you'd better go down to New York. I've got some rooms I can let you cheap in Q tenement house, and I'll recommend you to a tailor know for shop work. You'll get on right smart. expect there's women working for him that make as much as three dollars week, l m told"
 And in despair Marian took her cousins advice, and Deb went with her, "At least you'd have home, honey she said. He'd never turn ye out of doors, mean critter as he is." But Miriam had no such faith in her cousin.
 It was a hideous place enough-a rickety building with pine wood stairs and no fre-escape. two families on a floor; and the back room at the top of the house, with a dark bedroom at- tached, the apartments destined for Marian.
 John had generously permitted her to bring with her Q chair or two, table, bed and bedding, and her boys cradle, and she furnished the desolate place with them, wondering, with her country ideas of houses, ct the ''large wardrobe, '' until Deb said:
 ''Bless ye, missus, ye don't know York. That's meant to sleep in. It'll do berry good for me"
 Deb did sleep in the dark closet, and her mistress, with her babe, in the room outside, slept in spite of the noise be- heath. The wake in one poor domicile, the ''party" in another; the explosion of 'a kerosene oil lamp in one room, and the wife-beating performances in another slept because of their fatigue. But there came nights when there was no sleep for them for the noise and for wondering how they were to live. Marian made her needle fly and Det knit stockings to sell, but the rent swal lowed up most of the money, and food was very dear. Even the baby left of growing and began to pine, and at last was taken i'll, and then the mother could only sit and nurse it, while Det worked for both.
 She was marvellous knitter, and he1 great egg-shaped balls dwindled away under her needles at rapid rate. But never quite to an end. Always upon the hard roll of yellow paper remained a ball about the size of large egg.
 "I wound that there for marsa'e stockings" she used to say. "Jes' da1 de yarn broke when they came knocking at de door. shan't never knit dat off jes' leave it so, kinder to remember him by allers." And there was 0 sort of TO. nance in the fancy, though old Deb did not know it.
 Knit. knit, knit all day and half the night, but after all there was nothing tc spare after bread was bought.
 Cousin John collected the rents him self, and called in vain for many day He was patient at first thinking the babe must die soon. But it lived to wall anC moan and keep his money from its mother; and by-and-by John grew angry.
 "Think what taxes I pay, ," he pleaded "Now you're quite prosperous woman if you choose to be. There's Solomon will give you as many shirts as you car make at seven cents a piece, if you'll take en-" And he drowned on Miriam who only looked down upon her poo baby and longed for the only home fol which the poor are charged nothing the quiet resting place of the grave.
 And matters grew worse and worse with her, so bad that there was no small fire on the hearth and no loaf on th, table. Deb's last pair of stockings hac produced money enough to buy thu medicine the child needed and no more and there was nothing left save a grea hank of yarn, which, since an old gen tleman had promised to buy the stock