The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1889-01-17
UNCLE BLACKS LUCK.

IOohlHS uol plGSSIy dIOuuu the uTedTy
old farmhouse kitchen, as she stood
there with one little child in her arms
and another clinging to her skirts.
But I've always heard tell that beg
gars mustn't be choosers.
1t was more than year now since
the Black Farm had been left to the
mercy of the suns and rains, a desert
ed shell. People said that the old
house was nearly hundred years old.
1t certainly looked it, with that huge
mass of chimney stacks. the sloping
roof, the tiny-paned windows, and the
low ceiling, which seemed almost to
touch your head as you crossed the
mouldering threshold. But after Mat
thew Black had been lost at sea, and
his old father had grown too feeble
and infirm to work. the place had
fallen to ruin, and the old man was, in
country parlance, "thrown on the par
ish." Nobody wanted to rent the
house, which was mortgaged to Squire
Sedley for an amount considerably be-
yond its value. neither was the Squire
willing to make any repairs, SO the Ii
lac thickets grew up in rank clusters
around the front door, the pears ripen-
ed and fell in the wilderness of gar
den, and stray tramps slept now and
then of night on the floor of the old
Black Farm house.
Until George Cores little house took
fire, one windy June night, and was
burned to the ground, and Mrs. Gore
and her little ones could only escape
with their lives.
Its just our luck said Mrs. Gore
plaintively. Just as you'd got your
shoe-shop fitted up, and the new stock
in, here comes visitation of Provi-
dence and swallows up all we're worth
in the world! I've almost mind to
give up!'
Cheer up. mother" said George
Gore, who had one of those elastic
temperaments which are absolutely
unquenchable. at amt so bad but
what it might have been wuss. You're
safe, and so be /, and so are the dear
little children! And we amt none of
us hurt, the good Lord be praised! And
Squire Sedley will let me have this
place for ten pounds year. It's
little ruinous, to be sure, but we can
make room or ST. habitable at least;
and it's warm weather, So we don't
mind loose place or so IN the boards;
and | can have Il little garden, and
there's power o fruit down in the
garden. if once we can fight the weeds
out! And if can't make new shoes,
l can at least get job among the
neighhors to cobble old ones. And
you shan't starve Sylvy, neither you
nor the children, my girl! Eth! Helloi
Who's that?"
The Squire hemmed and hawed.
Wal said he, II hope it won't be
no objection; but it's old Uncle Blacki
He will come here every day. He
can't get over the notion that he lives
here yet! They've done everything
they can to keep him in the work
house, but he will wander over here
and sit by the hour on the door
stonesn
As he spoke, the shrivelled little fig
ure of 4 very old man came slowly up
the weed-grown path, leaning heavily
on staff. As he neared the door, and
saw strange faces around him, he took
off his battered straw-hat, so that the
wind blew his Struggling silver hair
about. with strangely picturesque
effect.
You're welcome, ladies and gentle
men," said he, in a feeble. cracked
voice, ''kindly welcome. My son,
Matthew, and his wife are somewhere
about the place. I'm very old, and
/ can't talk much; but you're well
come.n
So saying, he sat down on the sunny
doorstep, and the children crept softly
to him, and looked wonderingly into
his face.
"rll speak to the relieving officer"
said Squire Sedley. They'll keep
him locked up, SO he won't trouble
you"
No they WON'T" said George Gore,
bringing his big fist down on the
wooden mantel; mot if know it! Do
you think I'm going to have the old
creetur bullied from pillar to post?-
bless his old heart! He shall come
here if he pleases, and there sha'n't no
one prevent him. Who knows but what
he may bring us luck?"
So it was settled that old Uncle Black
should not be disturbed. He wander
ed about at his own will, and led the
| children to where the ripest blackber-
rles grew and the tallest foxgloyes
swung their bells beside the garden
wall. He sat by the hour with the
baby in his arms, and crooned low
songs to it; he came in to his meals as
| if he belonged there, saying a simple
grace as if it were incumbent upon
him to do all the hospitable honors-
and one night he did not go back to
| the workhouse at all.
He shall stay here" announced
George Gore, .'What signifies his bit
and sup to an able bodied man like
NE? l may be old and forsaken one
day myself, you know"
George, you never did stop to cal
culate things" said Mrs. Gore. feebly.