Connecticut western news., 1890-07-23

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 Immediately the man came toward mo and spoke to me in French, which was midway between that of New Or leans and the patois of. the negroes He was very dark, almost black with wavy dead black hair and beard, but his features showed little, if any, Afri- can peculiarity. Looking over his head at his daughter 1 saw that she was a shade darker than he, and the negro dash appeared to have come into her face with some emphasis, but not disa- greeably.
 In moment was guest. My horse was cared for by a lad, and was well comed into the squat but spacious house, where the first thing that at tracted my eyes was rack of antlers, upon which lay three long, heavy flint lock guns, one of which was magnifi- gently mounted with silver. .Skins hung about the walls of the hall or were spread upon the floor, two of them occupied by lank, long cared, snoozing hounds.
 An air of rude cleanliness that was almost luxury pervaded the place, and the voices coming from the adjoining rooms were hauntingly sweet and rich. I noticed that the doors, one on either side of the passageway, were very wide and stood open, giving into large, low rooms, into one of which was con- ducted by my dusky host. : Sit down." he said, and left me, re- turning few minutes later with a bottle of wine and cup of coffee.
 While he was out I glanced over the room. In one corner a magnificent mahogany four post bedstead, exqui- sitely carved, and curtained with red brocade, curious and old; in another a low sofa of the same rich stuff, much worn but still beautiful, and over the rude mantel grimy, smoke dimmed painting of the Virgin, were strangely in contrast with the rough walls and uneven board floor, to say nothing of the withe bottomed chairs and the lit tie home made cypress table, on which burned an antiquated iron lamp. At the one square window some tattered but carefully alarmed heavy silk cur tains rustled in the air that flowed through.
 ''How long have you lived here?" l inquired, involuntarily, as l took the cheer the man offered.
 '1 bayn yah wen Is bon sah," he answered, politely striving to mate his English with mine.
 ''You we're born here2"
 'sAn' my fahter an grandfather, bon yah, yas, sah, all bon yah"
 His story was simple one when presently he told it. An ancestor, he was not sure of the generation back, had come from San Domingo, fleeing ,,1 hol settled here on this very spot with his slaves. Doubtless he had history sadly mixed, but there was internal evidence that the larger facts of the tradition were we'll preserved and authentic.
 Some one of the forefathers, proba bly, not the original Colon from San Domingo, had been great scholar, so my host said, and had collected many books and a few pictures during his an nuaf visits to Paris and Avfgnon, the real ancestral place of the family.
 ''He was varee supeyoo man, zat an caystor. Yah, sah, varee supeyoo."
 He led me across the hall into an- were shelves of books, none of them especially valuable, unless an old edi- ton of Voltaire or of Rousseau or of Fenelon could be so called; and there hung some prints, once beautiful, but now so smoked with pine smoke that they were worthless. On peg in the wall, above the fireplace but below the high mantel, hung two long flint lock pistols, the barrels of brass with bell muzzles, and each having the fashpan on top of the breech, where the vent was stopped with small quill from a woodpecker's wing.
 When dinner was announced 1 was shown into rear shed room, only half of which was foored. This was both kitchen and dining room, the foored part serving as the latter, the earthen part as the former; while through a low window could (from my seat at the immediately tidy boar0 look right into very dirty stable.
 My host sat at the table with me; but no other member of the household joined us. We were served by a large, stout, jet black negro woman, who scarcely spoke during the meal, which was homely, well cooked, savory, de- Hcious.
 We ate by the light of curious iron lamp, whose oil had the singular fra grance of candle berries. During the meal two sweet and powerful voices sang song, the words of which could not catch, some one playing the air on a dulcimer that had seen in the library (as I may call it) and an. other joining in with flute.
 ''Dem's ma negres singin' zat song. Yah, sah, my negres," " said my host. I give his pronunciation of English but imperfectly, as the spelling loses the indefnable sweetness of the into nation.
 He call he shilrain he negres, lisped the fat negress, with a low chuckle, winlxing at me-
 'Me shilrain evair one at ze school ill Paris; yah, sah, in Paris, ga been fo years zare," quickly spoke up the man ''Dem's me negres in zare singin'."
 The negress chuckled again, but saio no more.
 ''Me ouife, sah, she in Paris, too, the man added; '1she come back naz year-mebbe so"
 ''He know varee true oo's is ouife, murmured the woman with knowing smile and a shrug of her heavy shoul ders.
 'Wan me ouife come 'ome f'on Paris, I bir new 'ouse; yah, sah varee large mansnAon continued mI Host, as we arose from the table; '', chateau-mebbe SC"
 | The singing and playing stopped short as our footballs on the passage way announced our approach to tn room in which the musicians ha' gathered. heard scampering of tn negres as they ran out through sid door with much giggling and suI pressed chattering
 My host sat with me until late, tell ing me much about his wife and chi dren in. Paris and about the mansio | he intended to build for them whe