The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1868-08-06
GOING SHOPPING.

GOING SHOPPING.
The fiery crimson places along the west
were emboldening into ruins-the damp
dewy breeze came up from dells and ho1-
lows innumerable and vet Charley Byron
stood leaning over the little wicket gate,
carpet bag ON his arm, though the cars
were momently expected at the rural sta
ton below the hill, exchanging last words
with his only sister, the little orphaned
thing he loved SO dearly. He could not
bear to leave her once more with the acid
old aunt, who was bringing her up" or
snubbing her down, and yet what sort of a
home could he, a solitary business man,
offer her in the crowded city? 1t seems
almost as if his brief visit of two or three
hours had rather depressed her than other
wise.
Come, Bertha, what does make you so
sober?" said he, putting his hand under
the little chin, so that the humid hazel
eyes were turned full toward his own
"Aunt Hepsy has gone in for fear of night
dews and rheumatism - tel me the
trouble?"
at is so silly" murmured the girl, hid
ing her forehead on his shoulder, and twist
ing the buttons on his travelling coat round
and round.
"Of course it isl expect that as mat
hear what it is"
well, then, Cbarley-don't laugh at
me now"
"No-go on, little brown eyes"
MARY Ellis-my old schoolmate, you
know, in New York-gives a splendid
party next week, and | am invited. Mr.
St Aubyn is to be there-her cousin from
Europe, and-and-I do want to go so
terriblyI' and Bertha began to cry on
Charley's shoulder.
Well then, why don't you go 81
aunt Hepsy won't let me-" sobbed the
aggrieved damsel; she says parties are
sinful and"
"What else ?" said Charley, soothingly.
/ haven't anything to weari" and
Herewith came fresh shower of tears.
Charley was silent for a moment,
thoughtfully smoothing down the bright
chestnut curls. At lengthihe spoke
Well manage it, Bertha. Aunt Hepsy
won't let you come to party, but she'll
let you come and see me. I'll write for
you as soon as I reach home"
" But the dress ?'
"Ill see to it, dear-there don't you
hear the whistle! | must run away from
you now-0ne more kiss, and good bye"
The next moment he was gone-Bertha
was smiling through the scarce dry tears
and Aunt IIepsy was screaming for her
niece to come in out of the deW-Was she
crazy?
During the whole of his long night jour
ney, Charley Byron pondered over the
onerOus charge he had undertaken He
knew no more about the mysteries of
dress than his carpet bag did-he had no
lady acquaintance in New Y ork on whom
he could call for aid, for he was one of
those shy, reserved characters, who seem
cut out to be old bachelors-and yet with
all the presumptuous bliss of ignorance,
he had the impudence to suppose ne could
manage matters perfectly well.
The first thing after he had written the
letter which was to bring little Bertha
down to New York, for a short visit, he
brushed his hair, tied his cravat, and went
out shopping
For" argued he, mentally, nobody
knows how long it will take to sew the
plaguy little things up after they are
bought"
SO with plenty of money in his purse,
and valorous heart, he sailed forth, de-
termined to conceal his ignorance on the
subject as much as possible. But what
on earth to ask for he didn't know. Some
thing he knew that the ladies wore that
looked light and fleecy and cloud like, but
whether it was wooden or cotton, or buck
ram, he didn't know. But he wasn't to be
daunted.
"What is the stuff that ladies wear ~
he asked of the dapper little gentleman
who ofiiciated as clerk
1.-THE ladies wear? Silk, sir ?"
eyes, let me see some," said Charley,
clutching at the forlorn hope. The clerk
brought pile of silks.
Mott isn't as thick as that" said he
despondingly. Like this ?" he ex-
claimed, an instant afterward, as his eye
caught a huge piece of muslin for cur.
tains swaying from the ceiling.
Impossible, sir )" cried the scandalized
clerk. Ladies don't wear that-why its
for window curtains"
Charleys countenance fell. We'll, tel
us what they do wear?"
perhaps you mean calico, sir ?"
Calico-may be l do. Let's look at
it?n
'What color, SIR"
Red-or pink, [ suppose" Charley'>
taste i'll the colors was for the prOn0nce
The calico came-a bright rose pink
Charley pondered over it with corrugated
brows. Somehow it didn't seem quite the
fabric, but then the color was exquisite
and it occurred to him just then that ii
was the "fussing and FILINGS" that gave
dresses such light, floating look, not the
material And besides he was getting be
wildered, and had a veNatious impression
that those puppies behind the counter
were laughing at him.
GLOW much is it ?" he demanded, tartly
Eighteen cents a yard, sir"
'HSive me a frock off it, said Charley
secretly thinking that dress wasn't so ex-
pensive after all
How many yards did you say sir ?"
Twenty" Quoth our hero alta venture
and left the store with his ponderous
bundle, wondering what the deuce thos
fellows were grinning at.
The next thing he supposed was to have
it made, and he passed before an establish
ment where Millinery and Dressmaking'
was emblazoned in letters of gold on plat,
glass. They were all women within
Charley ascertained this by series of 81,
peeps through the windcw-eud he stool