Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1867-12-26
Collecting q had Debt.

1t was q dingy, ill-ventilated little
cell in the topmost stratum OF one OF
those immense human beef that
people call tenement houses room
where washtubs and children, kettles
and kittens, potato-parings and clothes
pins were scattered about in reckless dis.
regard of the divine principles of order.
DR.. MAYNARD stood still in the midst 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
possession of this property by the death
of relative, nor was he particularly
pleased with his new acquisition. The
few weekly visits he had made we're not
accompanied by any particularly agree-
able "reminiscences in fact he dreaded
them, as a civilized colonist might dread
an Eruption into the savage jungles Of
an African wilderness. DR., Maynard
had always made human natures study ;
but this seemed scarcely human in its
odd, Celtic developments.
of all people / ever stumbled across,
improvident. What Is the reason | can
never get my rent on this floor? The
German people down stairs are always
ready, and my American tenants are a
model of punctuality. 1t is really very
unaccountable thing TO me!
Sure, sir, 'ttsn't my fault, J" said Mrs.
Tooley, 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 that flush of modification that suf-
fused her freckled cheek while Terry
and Mike, and little Norah, chung to
their mothers voluminous skirt 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. Tooley 2 repeated
DR.. Maynard, in sharp accents. But il
never is your fault, according to your
own story
| MY man is sick, sir, wild the rheuma
tiz in his knee. joint apOlogized the Irish
woman, and it's hard work we have tC
get along, and provide the bit and sur
for the CROWN childer; meself knows
the rint ought to be paid, and if you'll
have little patience, sir
Patience, patience, patience! ejacu
lated the doctor, each word uttered in 6
KEY somewhat higher than the last. 'Ont
ought to have the patience Of job to ge'
along with such pack Of tenants as
| have Why dupit yOu work q
| Mrs. Tooley glanced little reprosch
sort of altar enshrined in the incense o
steamipg soapsuds.
'Indade, sir, try my best; and hsc
hoped to have the money ready for 70;
TO day but Mrs. Napier put me off a
she has done many time, bad uck Il
her. It's the girls new dresses cost s,
much, says che. You're too impuden
altogether, Bridget, says she; and N
starvin' for the money that's me OWE
and not hers, at all, at AM
DO you mean Mrs John NaOie-
asked Dr.. Maynard.
Sure, do, sir, andit's nine dollar
3 and sixty cents she's OWN me f,r ID
!, swat OF me brow and the wear and tea
p | OF my bard WorRln' hanus, raid Bridge
, l TOoley, looking down at the Eed al
pSFboiled members aforesaid.
'ADd wont she pay you T.
? 'Niver g red clint, sir, though toll
: her how Patrick had the rheumatism
q and the children haon't bread ana So
- to be comfortable. She's niver paid n
since began to wash for her, Eve wee h
. ago the very last Tuesday that ever Wa,
It ITS shame said DR.. Maynard, Il
conicslly.
v Sure and it is, SIR asserted Bridge
, meekly; but what Can . poor ooc
dog
" DR.. Maynard rnurmured someLhiE
asder his breath. Mrs, TooIry coz
3 IsS catch here and there di,S ,inl,
n SoFt OF The old Biole sestenee havlu
a regard to grinding The faces of the pos
Well Bridget, y-s are DOT 20 mnca
: blause as itsousht y.n seie,' szid hs
ie u ni2dsr tao., as he tnTDtd abrupllS ,
n l kla h,,,l sl1l IN au.1n "A. NJ xu.. Ii a,