The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1869-12-24

I'm the Count ana marFa"So -
City-Rrom Wealth TO Poverty, from
the Pnr,or 10 the Tnilor's Shop, md
Back Again.
The romance of life is not to be wholly
fonnd in the columns of the romaafi
newspapers. There are columns, Su Oh,
Written history all about US large as
in fact, to fill twenty timSg "literary"
the best advertised hHew York. This
nuisance printed lied by our reporter,
of though wassSmething of the personal
after laarnl7ndy who now lives in this
historyde tale of her life will be con-
citycd into short story, without the
garious qualifications which make the
ordinary newspaper narrative.
HER NAME
Is not Betsy Jones. If it was the story
would be entirely true as 1T is printed
here. But we wish to throw little
mystery into the narrative, and do not,
besides, wish to offend the young lady's
feelings by giving her name. Betsy
Jones, therefore, is Just as good as any
name to write story about, so long as
the incidents are true.
HER FORMER RESIDENCE
Was in a manufacturing town in the
interior of one of the New England
States, where Mr.. Jones, her father, was
the proprietor of large shoe manuiac-
tory. He employed many hands, among
them
HANDSOME YOUNG SHOEMAKER,
On whom she occasionally smiled. He
smiled again in return, and worked
away as merrily as cricket, frequently
whistling familiar air, 50 great was
his contentment.
BUT ALAS!
Her smiles at last became spcctres
which haunted him. Sleeping, he saw
them in his dreams; waking, they were
before his vision, eating, they rose up
in his bread and butter; and cutting
leather, they arrested the progress of
his knife. He essayed to be merry,
could not smile; he tiled to whistle, his
mouth would not quicker. He grew
listless and dreamy, and instead of
looking upon his sides of sole leather
about him, gazed out of the window
and into the cloudy future. His victuals
hurt him; he got the dyspepsia; his
strength failed; aud he took several
bottles of Peruvian Sirup, all without
effect.
HIS EMPLOYER
Accused him of laziness, and OIL one
Saturday evening discharged him. MI.
Jones was a hard master, and expected
q full return for all moneys paid to his
workmen. The young man took up his
kit, slowly and sorrowfully packed it.
h, aoooyal 70 SnaaE nd
tell Mr.. Jones that, but for his Betsy's
smiles, he would have given sstisfac
ton; but pride forbade, and crestfallen
he shuffled ont of the building.
THAT MIGHT
He resolved to see Betsy and whisper
in her ear the soft tale of love. To
make a long story short, we will state
that he did see her; he met her going to
the Postof1iCe; desperation gave him
courage; he approached her; he spoke
to her; she smiled; he also essayed to
smile, but his effort ended in simple
sardonic grin; he tried to speak, but he
could not; and it was not till after he
had gasped several times that he even
whispered, and the whisper was even
not o respectable one. At last he got
rid of, "Miss Jones"-and stopped again.
She stared at him and he gazed upon
her. A second effort-"I am going
away"-at which her eyes dropped, and
he continued: "But | could not go
without saying, love you" She sim
ply uttered an 80, you get out" and
ran home, leaving Henry johnson (for
that is his nancy in the middle of the
sidewalk.
HE STOOD STILL
For q moment, scratched his head as if
in deep thought, put his hands behind
him, and left for his boarding house.
TWELVE MONTHS
Passed away, after which twelve more
were added to the number. Changes
cams-chsuges fraught with conse-
quence both to Betsey Jones and Henry
johnson. The shoe business got dull,
and old Jones busted up" leaving his
family paupers. His house was sold,
and Betsey came to the city to get
work. She was an adept with the needle,
and known among her acquaintance as
no common sewer. She obtained en-
ployment in a large house as a maker of
pantaloons.
HENRY JOHNSON
Was O man of parts. He was thrifty,
enterprising and sagacious. He came
to Boston with an emaciated counter
ance, and only thirty-seven cents ia bis
pockets, the sum usually allotted to sue.
cessful men at the beginning OF their
career. He spent NEST of that for a
breakfast, saving only eight cents with
which to buy dinner. To further our
plan of q short story, We will not 90
into details, and tell everything Henry
Johnson did during his first struggles
with city life. Suffice it to say, he did
not starve to death, but got into bust.
ness. In order that the reader may be
mystified, we will not tell what bust
ness that was. He accumulated prop
erty; he got rich; he got Itch because
be saved his money; the Brighton road
was never passed by his horses hoofs.
and the taste of champagne is still a
stranger to his lips.
ONE MORNING
Henry johnson went up FIVE flights
OF STAIRS to his manufacturing room to