Connecticut western news., 1886-03-10
VOL. XV.


 her spectacles and uttered a deep groan.
 'Mark my words, Mary Ann," said she, "that girl will come to no goods
 'Hattie does not mean any harm, Cousin Prodgitt," mildly pleaded Mrs. Hardy, as she knitted on.
 While Hattie, on her errand of mercy, went from house to house in the darkling lanes and crowded tenement districts, leaving an ounce of green tea here and lect Ire there, bottle of beef, wine and iron by sick bed,.. little rose-scented snuff in poor old woman's hand, pict- ure book on the pillow of some little child, wooden toy in the delighted grasp of skeleton-like infant, gentle admonition in the ear of willful facto- ry-girl, and word of comfort to encour- age despairing widow.
 She could be gay and fippant enough when ''Cousin Prodigy" leased her, but here she seemed to have assumed per- sonality of dignity and sweetness.
 Old Milo Reneau's was the last house on her list. She glanced anxiously at her watch as she went in.
 ''Past fve," she said to herself. 'T must make haste or the dear little man. my will be fretting."
 The dusk of the October evening had already darkened the little room, where lay the patient old sufferer from rheuma- tism. It was always neat and clean there, but in Hattie's eyes it seemed more squa- lid and poverty. stricken than usual to- night. As she came around the corner of the door she perceived a young man sitting at an uncovered pine table-a fig ure strongly silhouetted against the win dow.
 "Ah!" said she, the spirit of righteous exasperation rising up in her heart, "Tve caught you at last in the very midst of your evil practical"
 The young man rose hurriedly to his feet.
 'I beg your pardon" he began; but the tide of Hattie's indignation was not thus easily stemmed.
 'Don't beg my pardon" said she; ''beg the pardon of society-of public opinion-of everything else which you are outraging by this shameful behavior of yours. Apparently you have neither pride nor self-respect left-now take my advice; turn over new leaf. Give up your evil practices and set yourself to earn a decent living. Look me in the eyes, young man." she added severely; ''tell me if you are not ashamed of your self!n
 To all appearances, the culprit was stricken dumb. Involuntarily he raised a pair of clear, honest eyes to Hattie's face, according to orders, but he did not speak word, good, bad or indifferent.
 "He's not bad looking" thought Hat tie; ''but must not neglect the chance of making an impression. am surprised at youl" she added aloud; ia great, able-bodied fellow like you sitting down as disreputable incubus on your friends and relatives. Don't you know that you are the talk of the neighborhood2 Get up-go to work! Never let me see you idling here again. No; don't answer me. Inever enter into argument with the peo- plein my district. Logic is useless in a case like this."
 She hurried to old Milo, who being stone deaf, looked smilingIy on during this brief but energetic .monolgue, as if it had been recitation from Shakespeare. "Here's some extract of beef for you, MT. Reneau," she shouted in his ear; ''and tumbler of lemon jellyl I hope your lumbago is better. Pm sorry can't stay little longer to-day, but I'll come again very soon."
 And holding and smiling good-by to him, she hustled away.
 She arrived none too soon on the do- mestic tapis.
 Betsy had already broken one of the moss-rose tea cups, and spilled all the salad dressing, so that Hattie had to go to work to make more.
 Cousin Prodgitt had lost her spectacles, and Mrs. Hardy could not find her best lace frill Consequently she was only half through arranging her hair when Mrs. Hardy called up the staircase:
 Harriet Harriet MT. Gray has comep'
 She hurriedly coiled up the shining bronze locks, and fastened them with a shell-pln, tied the Swiss muslin bow at her throat, and, catching up her pocket handkerchief, ran downstairs.
 Cousin Prodgitt was still adjusting her capstIings in her own room
 Mrs. Hardy had gone down to see if the tea was properly sleeping; and so our heroine walked directly into the presence of Reverend Cecil Gray.
 II am Miss Hardy" said she. q beg your pardon! but t-"
 Here she stopped, with the syllables of further speech fairly frozen on her tongue
 A cold chill crept through all her veins as she recognized the curly brown hair, the clear, honest eyes, the thick mustache.
 But the Reverend Cecil was equal to the emergency.
 "Don't beg my pardon" said he, gravely, although there was roguish sparkle in his eyes. ''Beg the pardon ot society-of public opinion. No, Miss Hardy" he cried, suddenly dropping his solemn mannerism, "don't look so dis tressed. Of course, it was a mistake. Don't know perfectly we'll that it was. " NOh deari Oh dear 2, orasned Hat