Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-02-05

an hour later.
 What a desolate looking, miserable room it was. The light of the tallow candle was just enough to disclose its baroness. The paper curtain was not long enough by foot to reach the sill, and as the room was on the lower floor Rebecca found it convenient to extin. guish the feeble flame before she pre- pared to retire. Her next discovery was not cheering; there were no fasten- ings to the windows, nothing to keep robbers out of her room. No means of preventing them from coming in and stealing her diamond earrings and gold watch. Poor child, she did not know that there had been nothing in that township for five years worth turning a key upon, or which would tempt a thief to lift sash or open door.
 But of this she was unhappily igno- rant, and she hid the jewels under the rag carpet over near the six story bureau before she climbed up into the old fash toned bed which her mother brought all the way from Pennsylvania, and which had been part of Rebecca's maternal grandmother's wedding outfit. We speak advisedly when we say that she
 
 that Rebecca Buggs was not divinely tall, and the level of the patch quilt, which served instead of spread, formed a plane on a level with her fourth rib. If the truth must be told. the last act this girl did before retiring was to indulge in slight jump, which landed her on the edge of the bed, and when she had con- posed herself for the night she lay in a depression, after the style of hammock. It was ''cord" bed, and the cords had 'swagged." All this she learned from her mother next day.
 Once in bed she laughed, then she cried, after which she said her prayers and went to sleep.
 At the breakfast table next morning Father Buggs wanted to know if mother had any old dresses that would fit Becky, because he ''reckoned they didn't wear no caliker frocks at that skeule, COS the gals didn't do no dishwashin, and of course Becky would be just dyin to help mother with the housework."
 'Now don't trouble yourself about such things pap," Mrs. Buggs hastened to say, as her quick eyes noticed the quiver of her child's lip and the suspi- cious moisture in the eyes. "You've got your hands full to get that hay in afore it rains, Becky and nell get along" And the mother placed plate of berries and cream before her desolate souled child.
 So the summer days went by. Rebecca and her father did not prove congenial spirits. But what the father lost the mother gained, and the natural love be- tween the two increased and grew day by day.
 However, the commonplace, matter of fact, limited ideas of Mrs. Buggs made poor material with which the schoolgirl might find herself entertained.
 It is not strange, therefore, that she turned to more congenial source of companionship upon every possible occa- sion. She found it in the ''hired man."
 Just how they two first became &C., quainted she was never able to explain with precision. She spoke to him and he replied with the courtesy of thorough gentleman. Under other circumstances she would most likely have never honor ed him with more than passing recog- milton. But in her dreary surroundings an intelligent dog would have been a welcome companion.
 John Buck surprised her and soon won her extraordinary interest. His was the language of a well informed man and his manners were those of 8 gentle man. He was kind to her without being rude, courteous without becoming presumptious. In time she began to look forward to the evening hours, after the labors of the day were over, when they sat for an hour or two on the broad porch of the farmhouse and chatted long after the cid couple had retired and were asleep. And Sundays were the bright fragments of the weeks to her, for upon those days he and she would take long strolls together through the roman tic regions of the neighborhood, each time at her suggestion.
 Her mother saw the bonds of friend ship which were forming between John Buck and Rebecca, but offered not word of remonstrance. If Jacob Buggs was aware of the growing familiarity he did not show it. A more important matter was pressing upon his mind. Sev- eral mortgage notes were about to ma ture. So long as the interest was paid the notes could be renewed, as they had been renewed for several years previous. But the crisis seemed to be upon him this time without chance to avert it. Three hundred dollars of interest money must be paid on the first of September or the mortgage would be foreclosed; and foreclosure meant ruin. His crops, as usual, had been failures. He owed John Buck for half the seasons work, and yet that courteous, patient fellow did not demur. His credit was exhausted. The neighbors all plead stringency in the money market. The farm would not stand another mortgage, and, so far as he could see, he was at the end of his rope. True, he might sell three of his horses and several cows and thus raise the three hundred dollars, but then what was he to do with the farm with one horse and one COW as his amount of live stock?
 There seemed to be nothing for it but the poorhouse, he said one night as he