The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1886-10-06
How the Leak Was Mended,

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his last went one way, taking the shoe
with it, his hammer went another, while
his spectacles fell into the water pail
close by.
There stood Uncle Timothy, grasping
the arm of his favorlte nephew, John, as
as if it were pump-handle, and the day
being hot, and Uncle Timothy being dry,
the pump-handle was worked with en-
| phasis.
"set down, John, and tell US how the
folks are," said Uncle Timothy. "You
have come to make me visit, and have
time enough to tell me all want to
know"
John was telling about "the folks, !"
when Uncle Timothy said:
"What's that2 Thunder, I do believe,
rollin' down old Bear Mountain! We
shall catch rain now. There it is COM
in down the mountain"
"Come it did, furiously. Soon the
water began to drip from the ceiling.
"Uncle Timothy, your roofis leak ng.'
II know it, John; 1 know it. I will
put the pail under that 'cre."
"Why don't you have the roof
meuded2"
"Well, John, carpenters, you know, do
charge so! La! John, they'd make a
forenoon's work of it stoppin' up that
'ere hole, and don't seem to have the
extra chink. Fact is, John, it costs
suthin' to live in this world, and it keeps
a fellow poundin' all the time"
Here Uncle Timothy took up his work
and began to ring out series of re-
sponses to thunder rolling at nine-pins
overhead. In the course of his visit
John noticed that every forenoon Uncle
Timothy would leave his shop, step
across the yard to his house, bring out
an immense yellow mug, and passing to
saloon in the ncighborhood, bring
home mug full of beer.
"Ah!" thought John. 81 see how it
is that the roof is not mended."
"Unclc Timothy" said John, after
breakfast, "could I borrow that mug
see in the closet"
"Oh. sartin, sartin.'
Uncle Timothy was not going to his
shop very early that day, and John
knew it, business at another part of the
town calling him away. When he re.
turned it was about II o'clock, and hia
beer-gnawing visited him.
"Whcre is my mug2' said Uncle
Timothy, gong TO the closet. cob!
John has it. Well, guess I'll let my
beer go this forenoon"
The rain was dripping when he passed
from his house to the shop. John was
standing by the door.
"a wet day, nephew" said Uncle
Timothy, "and there is not much hope
given by the Clouds"
Here he looked up, and there on the
shop roof, covering the leak, he saw his
old yellow becr-mug! For q minute
Uncle Timothy gazed in silence. Then
he broke out:
"Thank ye, John; I'll take the hint"
1t was the last day Uncle Timothy
owned beer-mug. It was the last day
that roof leaked, for it was soon mendcd
with the beer money saved.
A Trophy Of Victory.
One of the most treasured possessions
Of the late John 3. Cough, was small
handkerchief, apparently worthless, but
made precious by its touching story:
1t had been brought to him by a poor
woman, with words Of the deepest graf
itude. She had married with every
prospect of happiness, but her husband
gave way to drink, and misery and pow
erty came upon them. One night she
sat in their wrctched and bare room, her
babe upon her knee, its father lying in
drunken sleep ON the floor. To hush the
restless child, she sang ''The light of
other days has faded" wetting her
handkerchief with bitter tears.
Then her husband met Mr.. Cough,
listened to his kind words, summed up
his better resolution, and soon vice and
misery were changed into happiness and
comfort. The grateful wife took to their
benefactor the very handkerchief which
she had once wet with her tears, saying
that he had wiped away those tears from
her eyes, she hoped forever.
"These are the trophies" said Mr..
Cough, "that make men glad" For
this was trophy of the noblest victory
that man can win-the victory over
evil. -