Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1890-05-16
ODD UNCLE BILL.

fine place on the Hudson would be sure to
notice, after awhile, an old man who wan
dered about the place dressed all summer
in white shirt and linen vest and trousers,
and "A fisherman 5 hat and sJFwiuter in a
wool dressing gown. He was meek, tall
old man, and people at first took him Tor
superannuated old servant, but, nnally,
his nice linen, his neat hands, and Ger
tain well-bred tone OF voice, if, by chance,
they heard hiR ask:
who is thati'
If they inquired of Miss Belle, the eld-
est unmarried daughter, she would answer:
An old connection Of mammas; l can't
see why pa has him here-horrid thing"
If they asked Mr.. Norris's maiden sister,
she would reply:
lone of the blessings my late siSter-in-
law brought into the family. 4 miserable,
ne'er do well Of a relation"
If the question was proPounded to pom
pous Nj Norris, as he sat in his arm chair
on the piazza, or drove about his property
in one of his handsome vehicles he would
answer:
well, that's a sort OF relation of my
wife's, a ne'er-do- well. The black sheep
Of the flock, You know. Always is one in
every family. For her sake-she was a
very benevolent woman-we let him stay
about He prefers eating by himself; he's
very stupid, very; bat she wanted him
here, and she had her way, poor soul. l
grudged her nothing. Yes, that's poor
Bill"
But if it was Miss Phemie of whom. the
question was asked. she always answered.:
.'Why, that is Uncle Bill. He's a little
eccentric, but the dearest old soul. I'm
very, very fond of him, and he of me.
Dear old Uncle Bill.
Certainly Phemie was the old mans only
friend in that pompous household. She it
was who went up to his little room with
his meals, and sat with him while he ate
them who saw that he had the newspaper
and his pipe; who had fixed that little, out
ofthe-way place with pretty carpet, book
shelves, a Students lamp, lots of ornaments
in worsted and painted silk; who never re-
ceiged her monthly allowance without buy
ing something for him.
His pretty, snow white shirts were her
gift, and she saw that they were done
up" properly. The flannel dressing gown
he wore in winter was of her cOntrivance.
In fact, up in that dormer rooted room
there were hours that were more home
like than any spent in the great parlors OF
the big dining room, where Miss Belle was
only atfectionate to pa when she wanted
him to give her more money to spend; and
Miss \ Norris the eldest sister of the master
of the house made bitter speeches IN the
pauses of the needle work in which SHE
was perpetually engaged. Sometimes dl
rectcd at her brother, sometimes at Belle,
sometimes at Phernie, but all worded SC
circumspectly and clothed in such guiSe
of piety that no one dared resent them.
"What comfort you are, Uncle Bill,
Phemie would say, as she poured out the
old mans coffee.
"And what comfort you are, Phemle
If I was rich uncle, just home from In
dia, like those in plays and novels, yor
couldn't make more of me-"
II shouldn't make SO much, uncle,
Phemie would answer, ''for you'd be {
victim of liver complaint, and that would
make you ill-natured and you'd scold me
and say naughty words. They all do, yor
stocks to worry about like poor ma: an6
you're not irritable, and ike to be witt
you. You're like mamma, too. You have
her eyes"
''You are Susan's image" the old mar
would say. "Do you remember the day
that you came to the hospital with herr"
YES" said Phemie. Il was just l.
years old, and mamma was crying over the
telegram.
Ny only brother, Phemie,' she said. Sc
sick that he may die, and so poor that he's
in hospital
Then we came and | saw you in bed, and
after awhile we brought you home, and
ma nurSed you well again.
"And died herself, just as l got about, .
said Uncle Bill. "And your father and
the rest did not like shabby old man
around the house. Well, l was lucky to
get home, l suppose, and luchier still to
find such disipterested love as yours.
You're like Susan. She was the dearest
girl that ever lived. Yes, you're like
Susan"
But they did not always talk thus, as
they were very busy often, over books;
eyer Phemie's embroidery, for which he
designed patterns; teaching her little dog
d thousand tricks; feeding the blind kittens
Phemie saved from drowning; mGking a
little well, from which the canary drew
buckets of water. And Phemie and the
old man would wander off to the riverside,
where he would fish, very seldom catching
anything, and she would read or knit.
None of the family knew of these init
macieS. Belle, older than Phemie by six
years, preferred that she should consider
herself a child until Miss Norris was
married. And Aunt Marcia detested her
for her resemblance to her sister-in-la
who had never been 'congenial."
No one in the house knew, but some one
not of the household did, and shared at
times in them.
Sometimes, when the old mans rod
dangled over the water, younger angler
would take his place near him-a hand
some young fellow, with black hair, and
the brightest eyes in the world; and then
the hours went by like hours in a dream,
and Phemie felt happy as she had felt when
a child by her mothers side. And Uncle
Bill laughed, and told fshermen'S stories
As for the young man, silent or talkative,
he was always charming So thought
Phemie. She was seventeen; she had
never had loYer. She was well read in
romantic lore. What happened was only
to be expected. In a little while two
lovers sat beside Uncle Bill on the banks
of the pretty stream and walked together
as far as the little gate that nobody else
used, and did not hide from the old man
that they parted with kiss.
Fred Howard was not fashionable man
only the son of a poor widow, who had
made book keeper of her boy. What
holidays he had spent he spent at home.
This was his midsummer vacation; he was
bright, and good and handsome, but Mr..
Norris surely would have had other views
for his youngest daughter.