Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1892-07-15

himself, "and tell MN al ABOUT IL,
and, perhaps, he will somehow find q
way to get my book again, and then I'll
ask him to take me away from here to
some place where l can keep it always"
Somewhat cheered by having a
definite purpose in view, the forlorn
littlo fellow started across the
fields toward distant wood
lot, In which he knew his
sympathizing old friend and adviser was
at work.
Uncle Phin was a white-headed,
simple-hearted old negro, who, Some
years before, had been slave belong
ing to Colonel Arthur Dale, of Dales-
court, in Virginia. He had been the
constant attendant, in her daily horse
back rides, of the Coloners only daugh-
ter, the lovely Virginia Dale, TO whom
her father had formally presented him,
as birthday gift, when she was fifteen
years old.
Three years later the spirited girl, re-
fusing to marry the man whom her
father had selected for her, ran away
with Richard Dustin, young North
erner recently graduated from New
England university, who had accepted
professorship in one of the Virginia col
leges. This marriage proved so terrible
a disappointment to her father, that, in
his anger, he declared he would never
receive communication from her, nor
see her again, and he never did. The
young couple, accompanied by the faith
full Uncle Phin, went to New York.
There their only child, boy, named
Arthur Dale, after the grandfather,
who refused to recognize him, was born,
and there they lived in the greatest hap
piness until the child was nearly eleven
years old, when the beautiful young
mother died, leaving Richard Dustin ut
terly heartbroken. Soon afterward he
removed with his idolized boy and Uncle
Phin, who had filled the position of
nurse and constant protector to Arthur
from infancy, to the homo of his child
hood, little rocky farm in Northwest
ern Pennsylvania.
He had but one relative in the world,
a brother who lived near one Of the
mushroom-like towns that sprang up
during the early days of petroleum.
When, year after the death of his
wife, Richard Dustin was also laid in the
grave, 1t was in the family OF this
brother, John Dustin, that Arthur and
Uncle Phin found home.
Richard Dustin left no property save
the rocky farm that was too poor even
to support mortgage. AS his brother
John had large family, the new bur
dens now thrust upon him were not
very warmly welcomed. In fact Mrs.
Dustin strongly urged her husband not
to receive them. She was Arthur's
Aunt Nancy, hard, unsympathctic
over-worl1ed woman who grudged every
morsel of food that the new corners ate,
and seemed to consider that every thing
given to Arthur was just SO much stolen
from her own children.
Uncle Phin, it is true, worked hard
and faithfully to do what he could to-
ward earning the bread eaten by him
self and his ''lil marse," as he persisted
in calling Arthur; but he was old and
feeble, and the best that he could do did
not amount to much. The scanty, but
neat, city-made wardrobe that Arthur
brought with him to his new home, had
not been replenished by single gar
ment, and now the boys clothes were
shabby and outgrown to such a degree
that his mothers heart would have
ached could she have seen him.
Although he was thoughtful, mag
NATIVE child, he was remarkably strong
and active for his age. He had learned
to read and write at his mothers knee,
ard his father nan. during t1IC- -tr-t .r-~-
OF his life, found his only pleasure in
planning and directing the boys educa-
tion. Arthur was therefore as far in ad-
vance Of his cousins in this respect she
was in refinement and ideas of honor. He
was so very different from them that
though he tried hard TO love them and
make them love him, they, with the ex-
ception of little Cynthia, to whom he
was an ideal of perfection, united in
cordially disliking him.
This dislike was shown in every pos
sible way, and resulted in many heart
ache, and many an unjust punishment
to the lonely orphan boy. Many night
he slipped from his little cot bed in the
back shed, and, creeping TO where
Uncle Phin slept in a hay-mow in the
barn, poured his troubles with bitter
tears into the sympathetic ears of the
old negro.
Then the faithful soul would open
wide his arms, and, nesting the fair
head of his "lil marse'' against his
broad bosom, would soothe and comfort
him with gentle croonings and quaint