Connecticut western news., 1884-03-26
The Dark Hour.

'It's no use, Becky" said the little lame cobbler, dropping his head upon his hands and looking, as he felt, the personifcation of despair. "I've offended the Lord, somehow, and He won't let me have a chance to keep a home over your heads. know I'm not all I ought to be, and I'm punished.
 Becky went across the room and patted her husband on the back,
 ''Now don't take on, Nick, don't" she said. "That can't be. for He, as knows all, knows how good you are. Better times Il come. They're sure to; and you'll be rewarded for ali-y your patience yet. The darkest hour is just before day"
 The cobbler shook his head.
 'Pve gin up hope, Becky" he said. "What with the rent and the bill for medicine. It was like me to get sick just at the worst, and no work coming in; and the new shop with the gilt sign tempting folks from our shabby base. ment even for the mending of their old shoes. I'm crushed down. Why, you are as thin and white as a ghost. You haven't tasted meat this week, Becky"
 ''No more have you," said Becky. "But, Ia, why there is folks thinks meat unhulsome. Wegetarians, Nick, they call 'em; where I lived out once I saw one."
 ''Did he say bread was unhulsome, too P asked Nick. "Oh, gal, I wish I'd left ye living out at service, rosy and bright and happy; but I meant to do bet ter--I did. If was an able bodied man I'd work somehow and somewhere, but it's the last or nothing with me. Becky, why didn't you take Tim Rolf, the wheel wright, aud send the little limping cob- bier about his business ?'
 1T don't like Tim," said Becky, land l just knew how nice and cosy we'd be together. Never quarrel, Nick. And how we used to go to Hoboken and have lemonade in the garden, and come home arter dark afternoon, and how we used to go to church Sunday morning in clothes as good as any one's."
 "Used," sighed Nick.
 "Why, it can't be all up hill," said Becky. "I haven't time to go out galia. wanting now, but, Ia, I don't miss it. We're steady married folks now, you know"
 "Oh, Becky" said the cobbler, "yor try to keep up heart, but you know it'G come to starving"
 They looked at each other, and ther Becky put her arms around her husband She did not weep upon his bosom; she was so big and strong and he so smaI and frail, that it only seemed natural tt reverse matters. She hugged him ur to her shoulder and covered his heat over with her apron and put her cheel down outside the bundle thus made, ant soothed and patted him as If he hat been baby. But she cried, too, anc the apron was wet through in no time.
 It was bad state of things. N money, no food, no fire, and winter @ It's coldest. The children sent to schoo breaRfastless for the sake of the warmtl and comfort of the school house. N, work to be had; the little cobbler a helples as man could we'll be, except a his trade, and Becky's washing stopped for Heaven only knew how long by great felon in the palm of her right hand But Becky loved the queer little morta she had married so well that sh stopped crying first, and picked up hi head and patted it, and kissed him be tween the eyes-great, frightened, light blue eyes that seemed made for crying
 "You stay home and mind the place, she said. I'm going out awhile. Pel haps there'n be a bit of luok-wh knows ?"
 She put on her bonnet and shawl such thin little shawl-which ha been used for an ironing-cloth, and ha an iron shaped scorch between tn shoulders and took up basket.
 The cobbler looked at her.
 Becky" he said, hoarseIy; "Becky.
 She knew just what he meant.
 "The little children, Nick, she sait i've could starve--bus them poor lttl