Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1874-10-15

| ;Liihcr.
i. As he approached. lie scanned the grounds
with All eager gaze, for those evidences of
wealth ne was so anxious to discover, and
seemed satisfied with his observations for his
! face glowed, and he rubbed his hands with
pleasure. The hour was so carly that the house
was yet closed and no one seemed to be up:
SO leaving his luggage on the steps, Scribblc-
ton amused himself for some time rambling
over the wcl-kept grounds and observing cy-
crythng with the closest scrutiny
''lts Il grand old house, he said al length,
''and appears to advantage from every point
of view: and the grounds are simply superb.
am astonished to find So much taste in this
ou-of-,hc-way town. But Ill walk up to the
house and see if can ret in yet
Knocking at the door, il WAS opened pres
! emily just far enough to disclose night
cap and Il wrinkled female face pecping out
Of it,
BE YOU Tom Tinklctom, the author Of
The Red Hand of the Ragged Rutlian:'"
asked the nisht-cap.
Madam. | am.
Then you're to come right in The par
lor door is the first one to the right The
servants are not stirring yet and have to al
nit you myself. Wait Il bit till &C: cat of
| the way. And the ight-cap vanished amid 4
pa,tcr Of rclrcatins footsteps.
Scribhlc,on waited a decent interval and
| T., Il
open. and leaving his hat and valsc il the
hail, entered and sat down.
'.It'S all turning out right, he sail to him
self, after a brief but comprehensive survey
of his surroundings. ''Thc CID crone is evi-
IDENTIFY rich, and I'm to have it all as soon as
she dies, which is to be soon if things go
right; and hen I'm a made man: But con-
fcrnd snch name as I've got to carry to pay
H. it. Podsers. Podgers! Why couldn't
it have been Rodgers: That would he nearer
par with the noble appellative must sac
rificc. cribbleton-Podgers: Yc gods, what
descent is there! but it's by a golden stair
way, and I'll dc it. No more the poor Scrib-
bleton, but the wealthy Podgers. The realMy
Podgers! That don't sound so bad after all.
Podgers-the wealthy Podgers: every imagin-
able difference, gulf between them: What
glory surrounds everything that word
,realtAy sticks to. Podgers would be base
lead and thing to scorn; br; the wealthy
Podgers has the true golden ring, and hug
| it to my bosom. Come to my arms, wealthy
Podgcrs::"
In his enthusiasm his thoughts had, uncon-
sciorsly to himself, broken into audible ex-
preston, and extending his arms as he spoke,
he was amazed to discover them instantly
filled with bundle of animated brown
mcrino surmountcd by ruttled white cap.
'N.5le Tinkletom:" exclaimed the bundle,
resting upon his bosom, generous, gifted
Tinklctom! Such n reception from you quite
overcomcs me. Oh! how sweet it is so feel
that there is still one generous soul left in this
selfish world! one plying, sympathetic breast
where the lone old woman may rest the little
remnant of her days! But how did you know
me, dear Tlnkletom?''
"Know you. Mrs. Podgcrs!" exclaimed
Scribbleton recovering himself as the truth of
the situation dawned upon him. ''How could
l but know you, when your venerable counte-
nance is perfectly resplendent with the lustrc
of exalted sentiments like those expressed in
your letter to me? A writer of my long ex-
perience, madam, has no trouble in recog-
nizing the individual by his written thoughts
had already pictured you exactly as l now
find you
"True, my dear young Tinklctom, true,
true should have known that But please
assist me to the sofa, Mr.. Tinkletom, for this
little effort has exhausted my strength. In
my impatiencc to see you, fear have at
tempted too much.'
In obliging her, Scribbleton was delighted to
observe that her steps were very tottcring,
and that he had to sustain her entire weight.
From this he argued that there could not he
much vitality left in the shriveled frame, and
that therefore the grave was not far off.
Nov, my noble young 1inkletom, sit
down here by my side, and tell me how this
last story of yours is going to end. The last
number of the Ledger leaves the beautiful
Carlotta imprisoned in o cave, in the power
of the Ragged Ruffian. 1t made my heart
ache to read of her sufferings; and cant
wait for the next paper to see her happy
again. OF course you mean to have the
Disguised Duke rescue her, don't you, dear
rinkletOm:"
s.Madam, you arc lady of acute percep-
ton to have penetrated my plot SO well.
Hs nl.o-. r)o,,,ol u,;th nlna S,,rn af tho |