Connecticut western news., 1886-06-09
VOL. XIV.

nothing !-my pongee handkerchief, that you have stolen right out of my bagl We'll, I never!''
 She shook Phoebe vehemently. Phoebe began to cry in mingled terror and re- sentiment, and just then up drove tho farm wagon at gallop. p. {,
 'tHello, motherl" said Ezra Pilking. tons cheerful voice. 'Tm afraid Pve kept you waiting bit, but the linchpin came out of the wheel, and had to stop at Tony Deephill's to get it fixed. Now, thenr'
 He drove the stout pony close to the raised platform which extended away from the station.
 Mrs. PilEngton pushed Phoebe into the back seat, and followed her with lightning haste.
 'sNot that way!" she cried, grasping at the reins, as Ezra would have headed for the highroad. 'Drive straight to Squire Pulteney's. This gals thief l Pm going to have her arrested before she is day older"
 'EhT said Ezra, staring from his mother to Phoebe, and then back again.
 ''She's stole my spotted pongee hand kerchief-my handkerchief that bought bargain on Grand Street this very morn ing!" shrieked Mrs. Pilkington.
 'Tt's-it's my handkerchief" faltered poor Phoebe, feeling as if she were in a terrible nightmare from which there was no awakening.
 "A likely story!" clamored the enraged housewife. 'Tve always heard of the wiles and tricks of these city minxes, but I never realized it until now. Drive on, Ezra-drive quick! She shalls be lodged in the county jail thls very nlght!"
 "Are you sure you ain't mistaken, mother7' said kind Ezra, compassionating the look of pallid misery in the young girls face.
 Mistaken, indeedr' shifted the old lady. "Drive on, say! Don't lose any more time, or Squire Pulteney will have gone home for the night"
 She herself took possession of the reina and she spoke and chirrupcd to the horses.
 But, mother" pleaded Ezra.
 Even as he spoke, however, poor Phoebe, driven wild by vague terror and m instinctive desire to escape, had flung herself from the wagon to the ground.
 stop for heavens sake, mother, stopw shouted Ezra. Don't you see that her dress is caught in the whcelsa"
 The little horse stopped. He always stopped, on general principles, whenever a suitable opportunity presented itself, and the very slightest "Whoa!" would invariably bring him to dead standstill
 Ezra sprang from the wagon to disen tanglc the helpless figure in the dust, and Mrs. Pilkington scrambled after with { vague idea that Phoebe might yet get ul and try to run away.
 As she jumped down her satchel fel prone into the road, and bursting oper the overstrained latch, disgorged its con tents on the dewy grass of the roadside first and foremost among which was-' spotted pongee handkerchief.
 "Good Land o'Moses!" piously inter jected Mrs. Pilkington, Eff there aim the dratted old pongee handkerchief arter all!"
 And she stared helplessly, first at it prim and undisturbed folds, and then a Phebe's handkerchief-exactly the sam in color, pattern and fabric.
 "She ain't a thief, arter all" said Mrs Pilkington, her whole nature overlooked by the rising tide of remorse. "Poo child and Pm afeard she's hurt a-tryir to run away from nothing at all."
 Phebe's ankle was slightly sprained that was all, and by this time she wa able to smile and answer kindly Mrs Pilkington's numerous questions and con dolences.
 "Can I ride home? Oh, of course canl" said she, in reply to Ezra's interre gations. My ankle is only the least bi lame."
 Old Farmer Pilkington was anxiousl looking out for them, when, considerabl later than he had expected, the wago drove up and Mrs. Pilkington made hast to explain everything to him.
 ''And ain't it queer," said she, 9th; me and Phoebe should both hev bougf pongee handkerchiefs just alike c Grand Street2 If ever there was ba bains, they be! Half yard square, re- China goods, with hem"
 ''Fiddlesticks!" said old MT. Pilkin, ton. 'If there's anything hate, it bargains!"
 Little Phoebe Primrose stayed on at u farm. She liked the daisies and re clover, the sound of running brooks, u