Connecticut western news., 1884-12-03
HER CHRISTMAS STOCKING.

II said Mir. Amasa Andrews, opening the kitchen door. "Whatever dye think I've had letter from Uncle Joshua !" ssNot about the moggage? The old skinfiintI'
 Mrs. Andrews turned an anxious face from the bread she was kneading.
 sNo; 'tain't nothin' O the sort. It's real friendly letter. He wants to bor- row our Patty for spell.
 sBorrow Pattyl What in the world does-"
 "Well, there. you see, Polly" began her husband, advancing with the letter in his hand ''op Aunt Sally lives with i'm: hez for years. An ther's her daughter Sarah merried lately. I s'pose it leaves 'er sorter lonesome. Anyways he eez he'd like t'hev Patty come fer vile. It's natural huff Shell we let 'er go ?"
 ''Oh, Amasy, hate top
 "Yes, we'll miss Ter; but 'taint fer z long an ther's the nnoggage, Pollyr' sI know. We'll, let's leave it to Patty"
 ssPatty herself was not averse to the visit !; but then she never was to any plan of her elders.
 'Td jus as lieves," she said, in her mild little voice; and George lamented while he wondered that he had not been chosen instead.
 So Aunt Polly packed the old-fash- toned carpetbag, and Uncle Amasa put his small niece in the stage coach under the good d-natured drivers care one frosty morning in the late fall. Patty never forgot that brisk rolling over fiinty roads, the glimpses of the ice bound river, of farm houses nestled among leahess trees, of now and then a child at a window who nodded or waved hand at her. And then, as night fell, early and cold. they halted before long, low, red house, where a single light was burning, and an old man in fur cap, with a lantern in his hand, came to the gate and called:
 eAin't got ittle girl fer me, we ye, Silas ?"
 sHere ye be l" was the answer, and Patty was handed down. She was so nearly asleep that it was like dream her entrance into the lighted kitchen, her supper on kind Aunt Sally's lap, and, finally, her tucking into bed at that good woman's motherly hands.
 But the next morning, when breakfast was over, Patty followed Uncle Joshua out of doors. Kin come with you P she asked, slipping her little hand into his hard. horny palm.
 s'I sh'd think ye'd like to stay witt Aunt Sally" he replied, looking at hel from under his cap brim. ''She's goin to make some pies, guess.
 "Pd ruther go with you an see thu calves, if I may ?" answered his great niece timidly.
 And so, morning after morning, Patty would go to Aunt Sally with her hood and little shawl and, while pins were be. ing fastened and strings tied, she would ask: 'Ye don't mind eff I go out with Uncle Joshua, do ye, Aunt Sally ?"
 Always the same question and always the same answer: Lord love the deal child, no!' While the old woman nut fured, under her breath: "Mebbe twill do some good. Who knows?"
 Uncle Joshua always stood in the doorway during this dialogue, with ( great show of impatience and reluctance to be "bothered.
 'I sh'd think little gals place was il tn, house." he would remark as he tool her hand. But he liked it. Bless you how he liked it.
 And soon there was not nook O cranny in the stable or barns that hat not caught the light of Patty's yelloy head and heard the tender cadence o her voice.
 One day Aunt Sally accompanie, them to the pen where the great Christ mas turkey was confined. While sh was wondering at it's size and promis MT. Andrews said, suddenly:
 ''Patty, does your Uncle Amasy tall much about me, dye know ?" with ma licious twinkle under his bushy eye brows.
 s'Sometimes. Patty hung her head
 "Oh, he does, does he? What doe he call me, child?"
 s'An ol duffer, said Patty, with he finger in her mouth.
 Uncle Joshua turned and strode away flinging 'sIhere, now, Sally ]" over hi