The morning times., 1896-09-27
BY ADELAIDE LUND.
(COpyright, 1896

Copyright, 1896.
Uncle Jack gave her to ne on my twelfth
birthnight. shall never forget that even
Ing. We were sitting on the porch, father,
| mother and l: the sun was fast sinking
| behind Elm Hill, the cattle We're MUNICH
| ing their cuds contentcdly in the barnyard,
and father, his chair tilted hack against
the porch railing and his eyes slightly
| narrowed, was saying lin a tone which
admitted Of no discussion that was get
| ting to be too big 10y To expect birth
day presents.
Mother smoothed my hair furtivcly, in
response To the bitter disappoint Ment
which sbo wed in my face, while her eyes
begged me to be 81 lent.
Mot hers hand sought mine as, tear
blinded, stumred up the steps TO the
door. Just then whinny sounded from
the lane and the next moment Uncle
| Jack, seated on the back uf baX-fiily,
came tearing up to the door. In a breath
| he was landed N the lilac bushes and the
| green turf OF the dooryard was cut and torn
| into unrecognizable ruts beneath the ami
mails feet, while the pebbles flew in rat
| ting showers against the porch and win
| dows.
Holding fast TO the bride Uncle Jack
scrambled tn his feet. while the filly seemed
| actually trembling with delight at his mis-
hap. Here you are, jack he said. soon
as he could recover his breath. tossing the
bride to me. You ought TO have some
tiiDgtehclp you bear your name. yen rogue"
| then he looked at me "A moment kecnly, and
added in softer tone: You are not an
| over pampcred, youugster. but the filly
| is yours for keeps, and may size not break
your neck
1t doesn't seem, as l look hack on those
first days with my colt that l slept an
| hour during the entire week. One night
| / was lying awake trying 10 think Of
| name for her. when suddenly Uncle Jacks
| dream came to me: WHY not call her
| Drcamr'' and Dream size was chris;ered.
| That year ! taught her nearly everything
| but speech: she would Climb stairs, unite
| n hard knot with her teeth. ring the dinner
| bell. carry my handkerchief in her mouth
and follow me about the whole farm like
q dog.
She grew to lie the pride of the vii
| lagc and hitched to an old gig made time
that was secuted by many, hut which fairly
astonis.ied the county.
About that time father was appointed
postmaster OF the village office, and IL
became my duty to drive him in morn
iDgs and go after him at midnight; !
tell You those were proud, happy days
for us all Father was Immensely
pleased with the salary, which would help
pay off the farm mortgage, while ] had
the pleasure of driving Dream I vice each
day without having TO beg permission,
and mother was happy because we We're
SO.
One night q few months later father
| rode home without once correcting my
method of driving-thls was significant
in its rarity-and that night he walked
the sitting room floor till daylight, but
neither mother nor dared 10 urge him
to tell US his trouble. The next night
there was no change; ] remember how
gray and old he looked as he slipped his
tea. aud iIo W he got up from IN c table leav-
ing his supper mtasted.
After week of wretchedncss for us
ALL lie told mother there had been a
mail robbery. and that suspicion rested on
his office. He kept no clerk. and So, OF
course he was the suspected one. 1t meant
the loss of his office. to say Tn least, unless
! the thief was found.
Things went on this way for another
week; poor mother crcpt about, anxious
ly watching fathers face: father neither
ate nor slept, but sat silent and stern,
| claiming to the utmost the pre-eminenceo Of
the principal sufferer, while ] tip-toed
| from one room to another until could steal
| to the barn, where l found comfort in
| Dream.
Saturday nights father kept the Office open
! late: 1 always drove in for him, hitched
| Dream in the meeting house shed, aud had