The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-09-08
UNCLE PETER.

ErOm constantly UelllnS Cne STORY OF
Uncle Peter and his wealth, good old
Captain Cogolin had come to believe in
it himself. The truth really was that
the said Uncle Peter had been the de-
spair of his family from his very child
hood, and had finally embarked IN an
American ship as a cabin boy, after
which nothing more had been heard Of
him.
This was the plain, unvarnished truth,
but Captain Cogolin was a native Of
Marseilles and had an imaginative mind,
consequently this plain truth had to be
embellished. One day he happened to
come across a sailor who had just re-
turned from the United States, and after
drinking a glass or two of spirits toge-
ther the two men became communica-
tive. The captain happened to mention
the fact that he had an uncle living out
in America. He drew upon his imagin-
ative mind and was able to describe the
said uncle.
III o0lIOl ICll1CA1-
bered having met just such al individ-
ual, and, what was more, the supposed
Uncle Peter had even conided a box of
presents to the care of the sailor for dis
tribution among his relations on the
other side of the water. Unfortunately
on the way home there had been a ter
rible storm, and the box had been
dropped overheard, but still the fact re
manned that Uncle Peter had made a
fortune out in the new country and had
sent word to his friends that he should
not forget them.
Two or three years went by, and at
the end of that time Uncle Peter owned
plantations, slaves, gold mines, petro-
leum mines, and everything, in fact.
that an American uncle is expected to
possess.
The Cogolin family became the envy
of the little village where they lived, and
in the evenings, when the women gath
cred together round the doorsteps of the
steep, narrow streets for their daily
gossip, the name Of the famous Uncle
Peter was frequently heard.
The Cogolins themselves waited pa
tiently.
"Poor fellow" the captain would say;
''let him live as long as God wills. We
are in no hurry"
One day d letter arrived for Captain
Cogolin. It was from New York, and
the envelope had the embassy stamp. Il
was a heavy letter and might have n
tanned any number of bank notes.
There was, however, nothing more in
it, and nothing less than the certificate
of death of Peter Cogolin.
"He is really dead, then?' said the
captains wife.
"Of course he is, since the ambassador
has taken the trouble to send us this"
There was a solemn silence, and then,
although no one but the captain had
ever set eyes on the American uncle, a
few tears were shed in honor of his men,
DRY.
The wife then spoke again. ':All the
same, your ambassador does not say a
word about his money!"
"You would perhaps have liked him
to have written about that first and then
told us of his death in a second letter.
No, no, they don't do like that in Amer
lea. They know what's what, and they
would not write to US point blank about
money as though they thought we were
starving. We have only to wait, and as
soon as he decently can the ambassador
will write to us about the money mat
ters."
Unfortunately the ambassador, no
doubt through negligence, did not send
another letter, and in place of the peace
full dreams with which they had deluded
themselves a fever-the money fever
seized the whole Cogolin family. They
did nothing COW but dream of Uncle
Peters millions, and on Sundays when
they were all gathered together in their
cabin it seemed as though the sun had
lost its brightness and as though even
the garlic had no flavor.
One morning the captain announced
his intention Of taking a trip.
81 can very well get off for a month or
So" he said. sThe lads will manage the
boat during my absence, and I feel as
though I can't rest without seeing for
myself what's going on in New York"
He had to embark from Havre, which
made him furious, as he looked upon
money spent in railway travelling as
money stolen from him.
The enormous ship, however, with all
its sailors and passengers, the gilt of the
saloons and the bright, marvellous ma
chinery, threw him into an almost reli-
gious admiration.
From s o'clock in the morning until
evening he never uttered a word, but
just wandered about from one end Of the
deck to the other OF gazed at the foam
ing waves.
His speech only returned to him to-
ward the end of the journey, when he
began to speculate on what he should
find awaiting him in New York.
He began to be restless and wanted to
talk to some one about his errand. The
steward was a compatriot, and therefore
inspired him with confidence, but the
steward was busy and referred him to
two tall, lanky, sunburned men who
were always strolling up and down the