Year: 1873

OLD III CNILE1 y DOLLd hS.


The year 1865 had grown old. Bleak
November, burdened with the symptoms
of approaching winter, had hidden the
metropolis Il chilly adieu. Indoors had
become the resort of choice, out-of- doors
the venture of necessity, the blazing
hearth a haven of refuge, and garments
OF wool the dispensers of comfort. Fall
ing leaves strewed the ground, and stark
branches overhead bore witness to the
departure of the sunny days and the
never-failing return of the season.


On one of the uptown streets of New
York stood an old frame cottage, one
story in height, then tottering to decay,
and bearing unmistakablc reference to
an age past and gone. 1t was n wide
house, but not very deep, and several
years before had been divided by par
tition into two equal apartments or ten
ements. In this partition door had
been placed, but there being no occasion
for it's use, it had been nailed fast and
communication cut off. Over this door
was fanlight, the glass of which had
been broken long before; and as the
door was not very high one, or the
fanlight wide, any person could have
climbed through the opening.


In one side of this house lived an
aged man, who, within the recollection
of the oldest neighbors, had always been
called old Huntley. His only child,
Jennie, lovely youug girl of eighteen,
kept house for him, and appeared to be
his sole comfort and consolation. On
the other side of the old cottage young
man named Richmond Barr kept bach
elor's hall. Apparently poor, and GER
tainly very reserved, but little of his
history or situation in life was known,
except the fact that he was an indus
trious law-student, with nothing in hand
but everything in prospective. The two
neighbors had never been communica-
tive, merely meeting with nod of recog-
milton, and passing by without conversa-
ton, so that, comparatively, they were
as strangers to each other.


Mr.-Huntley and Jennie earned their
living by toiling early and late--Jennie
with her needle, and her father at cigar
making, his old occupation. Therefore
they were not utterly destitute, but still
found it struggle to make all ends meet
and sustain existence.


Richmond Barr had often gazed on
his neighbor's fair daughter with admir-
ing eyes, and as often thought it would
have taken but very little effort to teach
his heart to love the beautiful creature
who so lovingly cared for and frightened
the declining years of the life of her
only parent. He had not, before he met
her, been entirely without an object of
affection, for Heaven, in it's wise ordina-
ton, had placed upon his shoulders the
burden and care of poor unfortunate
piece of humanity, half-idiot, rela-
tive of the family, but a being without
mental light or reasons direction, utter
ly under his guidance and support this
idiot boy, only fourteen, became an OBJ
ject OF his most tender regard and solici-
tude. This wretched relative was a sec
ond cousin, but had never been noticed
by any other name than Jack.


On the evening of the day we record,
Richard Barr sat by the embers of a
scanty fire, reading the points of law
ease. Perched in his favorite place, on
the only table in the room, Jacks eyes
We're turned toward his cousin with a
vacant stare. This table lay immediate
ly under the fanlight, and against the
door which divided the apartment from
! old Huntleys. The neighbors were alb
ent at the moment spoken of, though