Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1892-01-27
HOW II HAPPENED.

Of cracked old hand BEL and afterward
the shrill. Quavering notes of cracked
old voice singing some cheerful diity,
they smiled and said Uncle Peters com.
ing. The notes of his song grew shriller
and more strident as Uncle Peter drew
near in his old fish cart with its canvas
covering, on the sides Of which was
printed, Peter B. Pillsbury. dealer ia
fish, oysters, CLAIMS, and other notions.
No trust.
His bank account and other possessions
were so great that there was really no
necessity for Uncle Peters peddling fish.
Ye think hadn't ought To do so no
more, do ye?r he often said to friendly
patrons who. with freedom OF lifelong
acquaintance, asked him why he did not
give Hp his occupation and rest. ~Ye
reckon that I'd set round doin' nothin ?"
he would ask. Nav, sir; that amt the
Pillsbury style
"We would miss you, uncle. his pm.
irons always said heartily, land we arc
always glad to see you"
The old man would smile like a pleased
child.
Uncle Peters wife had been dead some
years. His daughter Dorinda. spinster
Of 33, and Becky, a much younger daugh.
ter, kept house for him in the old home.
Becky had had the advantage or disad
vantage of attending a would be fash
ionable boarding school for about one
year, where she had only learned that
the society to which she had aspired
could never tolerate the daughter Of a
fish peddling father. Notwithstanding the
fact that that father was one Of the kind.
est and best and most honorable of men,
and Becky had come home determined
TO close Uncle Peters fish peddling career.
Dorinda had an idea that store might
prove more profitable than a fish notion
wagon, and she was too thrifty to allow
any opportunity to pass for increasing
her fathers account, which she expected
to share with her brothers and sisters.
Uncle Peter had several married sons
and daughters living near him, and all ot
them being thrifty like their sister kept
their eyes fixed on their fathers posses.
Sions, which aggregated several thousand
~AOhNAot AhtJ AdN GNNh 5AhAC1bN0 w tAiiit
the propriety Of dividing the property
among them before his demise and allow.
ing them in return therefore to take
care of him" the remainder Of his life
But Uncle Peter was lirmer and
wiser man than he seemed. lie had a
strong, dogged will. Notwithstanding his
childish manner and his smooth, round,
effeminate, and ever smiling face. He
met this suggestion with smile, and dis
missed it with joke, but there was a
look in his faded old blue eyes that for
bade recurrence OF the subject. He
came home from his rounds one day in the
merriest mood. He had cleaned out"
his entire stock in trade and his cracked
old voice sang Annie Laurie" in a per-
fectly excruciating manner as he drove
up the long lane leading to his house.
At the gate he met Mrs. Harriet Glib.
bons, a woman from the village near by,
whose highest earthly joy was felt when
it was her privilege to be first in retail.
ing a new bit of gossip Of interest,
She was one Of the few people on the
face of the earth whom good old Uncle
Peter did not like, but he had never given
utterancs to this dislike. and now he
bobbed his head to and fro ard erecie f.
her with a cordial:
"Howdy do, Mis- Gibbonsl Folks all
well at home? They be7 That's right
Can't We stay to tear 1t must be ready. !"
But Mrs. Gibbons declined the invita-.
ton somewhat stiffiy.
When Uncle Peter went into the house
he noted an unusually severe look on
Rindy's always grim face, while Becky
looked reproschfully toward him. His
William, who lived in the village, hap
pened to come in moment later and
was soon followed by his married daugh.
ter, Mrs. Gibson Downing.
Uncle Peter heard the Whispering to-
gether as he stepped into his own little
room for scrap Of paper to igger some
on. He had noted q peculiar GOODNESS
toward him on the part Of all of them,
and he stepped to the door and asked:
Whats going on here that ye all act
sof Your old pa hurt yer some wAyf'
"Yes, you have done, or are going to
do, something we can't help disliking, il
all reports are true, said Miss Dorinda.
aye don't sayl" said Uncle Peter, the
smile still on his face. %Well. what is
It? Out with it. an see il poor old pa
can't clear bis skirts Of anything SO very
heenyous
Miss Dorinda came out with it fatty.
Its the talk of the village and the
whole county that you are going TO
marry Widder Newton"
Uncle Peter dropped in his old splint-
bottomed rocking chair, his arms hang
ing Imply by his side, and an expression
of wildeyed and openmouthed amaze
ment on his round, red face.
"Me7r he gasped, staring blankly first
at one, then at the other of his four ac-
cusers as they stood before him. Me
marry - the - Widder = Newton1 Ne,
Peter B. PilIsbury, a-goin' to marry CALI
isty Newtoni"
sIt's in everybody's mouth, said Mrs.
Gibson Downing.
SThey say you stop at her home half
an hour at a time, said Dorinda.
"Oh, palr cried Miss Becky.
The son said nothing, but looked hacd
Uncle Peter stared at all OF them for a
moment, and said:
you're hollerin' fore you're hurt,
children; that's what you're ADDING;
Mis- Newton amt no more idee of mar
rying me than she has OF marryin' the
man in the moon. Iain't never mentioned
marriage talk to any other woman on top
Of the earth but your dead an gone ma,