The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1900-12-10

4
| ooh, yes" said the man. Il know
where that is; it's suite house.
mo doubt, no doubt" answered ar
sons, jocularly; "therell be sweets
| enough there to-day"
The driver looked at his fare suspi-
ciously wondering if he had an insane
man to deal with, but mounted his box
and drove on without word, and Par
sons arrived at his destination, after
grumbling all the way at these cursed
| innovations"
There was quite a crowd going into
the house, all dressed in correct morn
| ing costumes, and Parsons followed
the people, feeling the least at home of
! any of them. He did not know exactly
what to do. Customs might have
| changed during his long absence, and
/ he had been out of society so long that
he felt rusty and ill-adapted to play the
part of the long-lost uncle. He now
wished that he had waited until the
fuss as he termed it, was all over. 1t
would have been better for him to have
/ postponed his visit, which was ill-timed
| because nobody knew him. There was
not soul present in the rooms that he
had ever seen before, and he was ratil-
er abashed in gazing on the stately
| brunei matron whom he took to be his
niece. His sister, he remembered, was
/ petite and blonde. Could she have had
such a majestic looking daughter? He
| reflected that stranger things than that
! had happened, but he wished they
| hadn't; and he was bracing himself up
| for an interview, when he felt some one
! tap him on the shoulder and say:
"Loolz here, old fellow, you better get
! out Of here as quick as your legs can
carry you, or ] will have you pulled in
and have your picture taken. You're
I nice guy to attempt to work this push.
I know you. I came on with you from
New York, and I was on to you there.
Git"
How dare you insult me sir, in this
way" replied Parsons. This is the
| home of my niece and I am here to at
tend her daughters wedding reception"
"Oh, CANNON! The lady of the house
does not know you at all, and her hus-
band has ordered me to turn you out.
I'm a private detective, and it won't
do to fool with me-"
II know she doesn't know me-" fall
tered Parsons. but if you'n allow me
to explain"
Explain! You acknowledge your
guilt, and then you want to plead not
guilty. Well, you can put on front,
a regular swell one, with purple and
fine linen thrown in. No one to look at
you would think you were such a dow
ny cove"
II am gentleman and demand to see
the master of the house at once, and if
you offer me any more indignities un-
der his roof you will have to suffer for
it,"
Very well, you step into this side
room here, and when this pow-wow is
over I will call him to you AT present
he's too busily engaged to speak to any
old bloke like YOU
While this conversation was going on
the guests had got wind that there was
an unwelcome person present, and some
of them were malicious enough to whis-
per that he was a poor relation that
was receiving the cold shoulder instead
of the ordinary collation.; while others
said that it was the bridegrooms faith
err, who had escaped from the lunatic
asplum.
Parsons in a dungeon of a room wait
ed until the happy pair had been rolled
away amid the usual inane observa-
tons that are supposed to be cheering
to the newly welded, and then the door
opened and a dapper little man with no
hair on his head and rubicund face re-
marked in a very deep voice that
seemed to come from his boots:
We'll well, my dear sir, what do you
want with me?"
II am your uncle by marriage" STAN
mered Parsons, "just returned from In
dia"
"The deuce you are! I never heard
of you before Maria, come and see
one Of your unacknowledged relations .
At this the gentlamans wife made
her appearance, and said Put the man
out; he's crazy"
Wasn't your mother Parsons of
Boston?" asked the returned East Indi-
an.
BLESS you, no. was the response;
eve belong to the Hoyts of New Hamp-
shire and Vermont. I never knew a
Parsons to my knowledge"
Then I must have made mistake"
faltered Parsons. 81 came here to at
tend the wedding reception of my |
grand-niece, Priscilla Packington."
"Phew, the mystery is solved'
roared the little man. THE Packing |
tons live in the suite overhead, and |
their daughter was married to-day, as /
Well as my own. It's rather awkward |
having two functions under one roof in
one day"
"Well, I hope you will forgive me for |
the awkward error / have made, when
you consider that I, Henry Persons,
have been away from Boston for forty
years"
"No excuses are necessary, Mr.. Par
sons" was the rejoinder won't you
come and have some Of the funeral !
baked meats?''
Parsons declined the jocose invitation
and mounting the stairs found his niece
weeping over the departure of her
as mothers are wont to do
with strange Inconsistency after using
every art and effort to get their daugh-
ters well married. She was, of course,
glad to see her uncle, but they had not |
much in common, no associations to |
and they both soon wearied of
their attempts to live on the intimate |