The Shasta courier., 1867-12-07
COU RE Il
COLLECTING BAD DEBTS.

(OAEEC "A NJ bEAD A-SD-O
1t was dngy, ill-ven,ilated little cell II
the topmt s. stratum of one Of those immense
human beehives that people call " tenement
hons, s''-a room where washtubs and chill
dien, ketil lie and kittens, potato parings and
clothes-pns, were scattered about in reck
less disregard of the divine principles OF
order. DR.. Maynard stood still in the mid
die of the chaos, afraid to move lest he should
step in the starch bowl or on one of the
children WHO swarmed about the floor.
DR.. MAYNARD had recently come into POS
session OF this property by the death of a
relative, nor was he particularly pleased
with his new acquisition. The few weekly
visits he had made were not accompanied by
any Particularly agreeable "reminiscences
in fact he dreaded them as a civilized colonist
might dread an irruption into the savage
iungles of African wilderness. DR.. May
nard had always made human nature a
study. but this nature seemed scarcely
human in its odd, Celtic developments
"0f all people | ever stumbled across
said DR.. Maynard :" the Irish are the mo st
imorovident. What is the reason | can
never get my rent on this floor? The Ger
man people down stairs are always ready
unctunlity. It's really very unaccount.
able thing to me !"
Sure sir 'tisn t my fault" said Mrs
Toolev. lifting the corner of her coarse
checked apron to her eyes, partly to check
the tears that always rose readily to her
muddy blue eyes, and partly to hide the
| flush of modification that sutfused her freck-
led check while Terry and Mike and little
| Nornh clung to their mothers voluminous
skirts in sort Of vague apprehension that
something was wrong. although their tiny
minds could hardly take in the full meaning
of the catastrophe that was disturbing their
domestic peace.
Not your fault, Mrs. Toolev ?' repeated
DR.. Maynard. in sharp accents, " But it
never is your fault, according to your own
storv"'
My man is sick. sir wid the rheumatic
in his knee joints" apologized the Irish
woman. land it's hard work we have TO get
along and provide the bit and the sup for tue
CROWN childher: mesef kn ws the rint
ought to be paid, and if you'll have a little
patience. sir-'
Patience, patience, patience :" ejaculat-
ed the doctor, each word uttered in key
somewhat higher than the last. One ought
to have the patience of Job, to get along
with such pack of ter ants as | have. Why
don't you work !"
Mrs. Tooley glanced little reproachfully
at the wash 'ub in the corner-a sort of
altar, enshrned in the incense of steaming
soap suds.
'Indade, sir. I try my best; and had
opad to have the money ready for YOU to-day,
but Mrs Napier put me off as she's done
many Il time, bad luck till her. It's the
rl's new dresses cost so much, says She
Your too impudent altogether, Bridget,
says she-and me starving for the money
that S my own, and not her at all. at ell -
a Do you mean Mrs. John Napier ?''-
asked DR.. Maynard.
" Sure do. sir, and it's nine dollars and
sixty cents she's OWN me for the sweat of
me brow ard the wear and tear of me hard
worked hands," said Bridget Tooley, look
ing down at the red parboiled members
aforesaid.
And won't she pay you?"
d" Niver a red cent, sir, though told her
how Patrick had the rheumatic. aud the
children hadn't bread and salt to be com
Portable. She's niver paid me since | began
to wash for her five weeks ago the very last
Tuesday that ever wasp
It's shame,' said DR.. Maynard, la
conically.
Sure an it is, SIR" assented Bridget,
mcekly; :" but what can poor body do ?"
DR.. Maynard murmured something under
his breath Mrs. Tooley could Just catch
here aud there disjointed word of the old
Bible sentence having regard to grinding
the faces of the poor?"
swell, Bridget, you are not so much to
blame as thought you were said he, in a
milder tone, as he turned abruptly on his
heel. pil call again next Ve k; it's more
than likely you'll 8ave the money by that
| time"
The blessin'Sf all the saints be about
yez and over yez," whined the relieved
Bridget. 4
But the uncefemonicus closing of the door
cut short Mrs fooley's shower of blessings
and unnecessary details. DR.. Maynard
stairs, with his hands in his pockets, and his
4 brow5 contracted, in brown study.
As be entered his office, several blocks
below, the first thing that met his eye was a
note, written on periumed pink paper, and
sealed with gorgeous heraldic device in
rose cooreG wax
. Hum m !" muttered the doctor, between
his closed lips Mr.. Napier's compli-
ments; pleasure of DR.. Maynard company
to dinner on Thursday evening next, at .
O'Clock" Another Of their champagne and
turbot celebration, Ell well-wel-
these things are not much to my fancy, but
I'll 60 this time | believe-I-will," re
peated the doctor, thoughtfulIy stroking his
chin, a habit he often had when his mind
was busy at work.
And then lie sat down to his desk and
wrote formal note of acceptance, as stiff
and short as he was himself.
The Napier mansion, a snowy edifce Of
stucco and plate.glass, after a rather doubt
ful style of architecture, was all in blaze o.
light and flowers when DR.. Maynard arrived
there on the evening. few minutes before
o'clock Mrs. Napier, In a silver green moir,
antique and quivering ornaments of pearls
received him with SIN ling urbanity; anC
Miss Theodosia Agnes Napier, in an art
less toilette of white muslin and half oper
rosebuds, emDlematic of her own youth
directed her sweetest glances toward tn
stiff old bachelor doctor, whose wealth wa
! reunited 10 be so considerable. Other guest