The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1889-05-18
MY WICKED UNCLE.

| 1t was raining quite hard now-a
straight, steady downpour, which
scarcely looked like clearing; the sky
above was of that dull, leaden hue,
such as generally precedes much wet
weather, and though scanned it un-
til my eyes ached, l could not catch
a glimpse of the tiniest bit of blue.
| l had been watching the people
pass to and fro benath the nursery
window-not by any means an
amusing occupation; anything, how
lever, was better than seeing nursie
knit her everlasting sock, or playing
with my well-worn dolls.
was feeling miserable-as utterly
forlorn as any child could possibly
be, but then, as nursie said, it was
hard to lose my dear father so unex-
pectedly, and be left to the tender
mercy of an unknown uncle. Not
that I could remember papa very
well, he had been away such q long,
long, time, ever since mamma died;
still l used to hear from him some
times, and his letters never failed to
bring happiness to his lonely little
child.
Ipressed my cheek closer to the
cold window-pane as this thought
crossed my mind, and a few hot tears
gathered in my eyes. In another in
slant would have given way to the
grief weighing so heavily upon my
heart, but the abrupt entrance of
one of the maids effectually reused
me.
BETTY" she said excitedly, laying
her hand on the old woman's shoul
der, Mr.. Richards come"
Nursie gave little shrek, and lift.
ed her two hands-sock and all-in
evident terror.
lord bless my SOUL Have you
seen him, Susan?"
eyes; and don't like the look of
him at ALL" Susan answered en-
phatically. II can't think what pos
seSSed master to leave the child tn
such man."
'He always was one of the wild
sort; still he may be kind to my poor
lamb"
otis great temptation to have
entire control of so much money,
and no one to interfere except Miss
Nelly" Susan went on sagely.
"Poor child-poor child l only
hope he will be kind to her. If he
isn't, Pll-" Here nursie paused
and added in a startled tone, "Bless
my SOUL"
Susan turned and fixed her bright
eyes on mine.
l had been attracted by their ami
mated voices, creeping from my cold
place gradually neared them.
Probably my presence discomfort
ed her, for she bounced somewhat
hastily from the room.
"Nursie." began rather tremu-
lousy, "who is Mr.. Richard?"
"Your uncle, Miss Nelly, dear
your poor fathers own brother"
as he going to live here always?"
Goodness knows; he may or he
may not settle down Christian-like
instead of rushing off to furrin
parts"
/ sighed and dragged my little
velvet chair from its corner, sat
down before the blazing fire, holding
out my chilled hands to the genial
warmth. Nursie, after rather
doeful glance at me, rescued her knit
ting from the Kittens clutches, and
recommended work.
| dare say she wondered what
made ME so unusually silent, why l
forgot even to play with Floss; she
would have been still more sur
prised had she guessed the thoughts
busy in my mind-thoughts brought |
there by her own rash words.
My unknown uncle was wick ed-of
that was certain, and perhaps he
would be cruel to me-the fragile
child who stood between him and so
much wealth.
/ had read of such dreadful things
as unnatural uncles doing away with |
young children left to their care;
there was the story of two princes
smothered in the Tower, which nursie |
said was quite, quite true; then, too,
the sad tale OF the babes lost in the |
wood.
] shuddered, an instructive horror
creeping through my veins. If Uncle
Richard chose to kill me who would |
prevent him? Nursie was old and
feeble, and the other servants were
easily scared. My heart gave great |
bound when Susan suddenly entered
the room, q grim smile on her rosy
face.
"Miss Nelly is to go down to the
dining-room; Mr.. Lyle desires to see
her" she announced slowly, and each
word fell like death-knell upon my
soul.
Nursie's trembling hands smoothed
my roughened curls, and united the
big white pinafore.
was rather small child for my
nine years, and the new heavy
now wore made me look
smaller and paler still.