Connecticut western news., 1890-04-02
s'Oh, yes, if I had to, aunt" I re

= Oh, ycS, II udu LO, auu1, Io piled.
 "Humphl Think you have the pa tience9"
 "Yes'm."
 s'The perseverancea"
 ''Takes those things to learn to swim, to play baseball we'll, and such things"
 "Yes, but there's fun in them. That makes difference"
 ''1 don't know about that, aunt. You look as much interested in these things as if they were fun to you."
 She laughed "There is something in what you say. But it remains to be seen if useful things could interest you"
 "How you do hang around mel" she said another day. ''I don't suppose you learn anything, either"
 'Yes, ma'am, I do. From watching you learn to do about everything on the farm"
 "Pshawl Let me see you weed here, then"
 ''Oh, aunt I'm off now for swim. could do 1t if it was needed
 Away I ran.
 1 really cared a great deal for Aunt Josephine. There was something in her gray eyes that held me fast to her, and sometimes could not help throw ing my arms about her and telling her so.
 Then she would give me one of her quizzical smiles and ask:
 Why do you love me, sir?"
 'Why, you're so nice"
 Suppose I hadn't a cent, sir?"
 '"That hasn't anything to do with your being nice, has it?''
 ''Humph! No, suppose not2"
 We were a good deal together, al- though she was middle aged, busy woman, and I fun loving, half grown boy. l think she liked to have me around. and I know there was no one l enjoyed more-not even Dick Flaw ley, when we were on one of our cat raids.
 remember all these words of Aunt Josephine very well because they were said the last summer was with her. The next winter she died very sud- denly. It was dreadful news to hear, and, although I was expecting to be her heir, wasn't able to keep from crying most of the time; I couldn't help thinking. Why couldn't she have lived and let me come into the property all the same2 What is the need of people dying in order that somebody else can have the money2 Aunt Josephine and I. we could have always got on together.
 There was the funeral and then the gathering of the family together in her large parlor to hear the reading of the will. Luckily no one was present but the relatives. MT. Green, the lawyer who had drawn up the will, was cousin. Such a will was never heard before First, there was list of articles to be given away, one to each relation-a picture, a chair, or something of the kind. But for the propertyl A couple of hundred dol lars was given apiece to each, and the rest was placed in trust with the law yer The estate was to be carried on as usual, the annual income to be used in helping support large charitable institution in Boston. This to last for three years, at the end of which time further letter of instruction was to be opened and its contents carried out according to the wishes of the deceased.
 
 and as follows:
 ''I will and bequeath tomy nephew, Joseph Hedden Wingate, my best wishes for his success in life, especially in his chosen avocation of peppering tom cats. I also will and bequeath to him my dog Peter, which may be of aid to him in his efforts and constant reminder of his aunt's interest in his welfare. There will also be found in my letters of instructions, to be opened three years from the date of my death, further expression of my wishes as to my nephew Joseph"
 I must have turned very white on hearing this strange bequest, for I heard my mother call quickly for ''camphor."
 "Get away" said to some one who wanted to put it to my nose. "There's nothing the matter with me. I'm going right out now to find Aunt Josephine's cat and try my hand at peppering her!"
 I didn't say that with any malice, but only to throw off my feelings. To tell the truth, it came over me with more of a rush than ever, how Aunt Josephine had left everything she had so enjoyed to lot of stranger young ones in the city, who never cared for her and never would understand what she'd done for them.
 called Come on, Petew and off we went.
 We didn't find the cat, for ran to my favorite cherry tree with the seat aunt and often used to sit upon when I f,,n of tell you did heaps of thinking there. First I thought of the disap- pointment to father and mother and all the expense they had been at for suits and so on All for nothing. Then I thought of the lessons behind hand at school and the work I'd have to dc to catch up, for of course I'd got tG take hold and work now like other boys. No shirking now. No more fun, but just good, solid work for 8 boy who by and bye had got to earn his living and make up to folk fol what they'd lost on him. Then I thought again of dear Aunt Josephine and all the jolly days I'd had with her now gone forever, and l sniveled SC Peter whined until 1 had to stop. When I came back to the house tht folks were getting ready to go home Fathers spoke sternly to me, but mother put her hand softly on my head, say ing, Poor boyr.. Then remembered walked up to father.
 Father" said I, II want you tt have the S200 Aunt Josephine left m' as part payment for what you've spen on me. I'll pay up the rest when Tn | man."
 Father and mother looked at eacl other with looks that frightened me u] considerably, though couldn't ex actly have told what was in thei faces.
 1 After that I just worked hard a