The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1874-12-18
THAT POCKET.BOOK.

and he had just huttered from the
chrysalis state of theological student
into the condition of clergyman. He
was a very good young man but, per
haps, he thought himself even better
than he was. In his secret heart he
was quite certain that there were nc
temptations to which the Rev. Alfred
Pennywise could succumb, and he
very much despised any one with
whom any temptation had any weight.
I know you will forgive me, Mr..
Pennywise, for telling you this story
You told it to me doubtless for my in
struction, and should fail in my mis-
sion if l did not attempt to instruct
others Herewith also. Besides, who
will guess that it is you? For 1 can
did1y confess you have another name
than the one choose to call you by. II
I said it is the Rev. Alfred Pennywise,
I should describe quite another man
but it aOGs the Rev. Alfred Pennywise,
and it was a long while ago. And he
was a slim young man, with more gold
in his hair than in his pocket, and he
was on the way to spend his summer
vacation at the country place hallewed
by the presence of the object of his af-
fection-Miss Annie Snow.
He had been paid what his congrega-
tion chose to consider an adequate
quarters salary. It was not much to
begin with, and then there had been
certain bills to be paid, and the small
sum dwindled down to smaller still.
By close economy he could spend four
weeks at Hopes Corners, at the cheapest
little hotel there and he might even in
du1ge in the awful extravaganza of hir-
ing a boat, wherein to row his 1ady-love
up and down the river, and into hooks
and crannies where the water lilies
grew, and might, perhaps, go with her
to church picnic, and regale her with
Strawberries. Nay, he a0ouLd do this,
he vowed to himself, If he did without
his dinner for month afterward.
He loved this little Annie Snow very
much, and he thought her very good
and very beautiful indeed; but he
could not help indulging in pleasant
little bit of vanity as he thought about
himself. He certainly was very good
young man-very good, indeed. He
was about as good as young men we're
made-just about. And this came into
his mind as he stepped into the train to
Hopes Corners, and sawtwo young men
drinking something at the bar of the
hotel, and another young man smoking
on the steps.
He never drank he never smoked !;
ah and he could not have been
entrapped into a Irritation with that
saucy girl leaning over the garden pal
ings, as the young man in the gray
business-suit evidently was. No; he
was certainly remarkably good young
man.
He took his seat and looked at the
prospect as the cars few out of the de-
pot. He had plenty of room for him
self and his traveling-bag. The seat
was on the shady side of the car. It
was very pleasant. But this is a world
of change. At the very first station all
this comfort vanished. a crowd of
people hurried in. The seats were
crammed. Mr.. Pennywise found it
necessary to hoist his bag into the re-
ceptacle over his head, and to Sc make
room," per order of the conductor, for
a rge-boned, middle-aged woman,
with a fiat hand-basket redolent of
onions-(Mr. Pennywise hated onions)
molasses taffy in its blessed little
fingers.
Yes; and no sooner was this female
seated than she turned to him, and re-
marked, in an injured tone
''I'd like that window closed, if you
please, for Jane Maria hasn't been well
of the measles quite a week, and ]
should think anybody would have more
consideration.
Mr.. Pennywise shut the window, of
course. He had never had the measles
himself, and he looked about him for
another seat, but there was none. The
car was iammed. Most of the windows
were shut. It was close and un-
pleasant. The vapor of human breath
began to coat the panes. The smell
various lunches was painfully percepti
bic. The invalid Jane Maria ierked
and fdgeted, and wiped her sticky
fingers on the new and precious coat
of poor Mr.. Pennywise, and the train
: turned corner, and the glare of the
sun swept across his face and into his
eyes.
Naturally the pleasant mood which
had been upon the young clergyman
took Eight amidst this discomfort. He
began to think what a wicked world this
was, and what s'orrowful one too, and
how long it would be before he could
marry his little Annie Snow, and how
ne might never marry her at all. He
locked at the candy eating child and
m 1eIt sure 1t would grow up very wicked.
There was great deal of original sin
In It's face-a great deal.
Then he wandered back to himself.
What a hard life it was. to be sure.
How he must count every penny, and
save and scrimp and forbid himself
books he needed, even. All. il was a
very weary thing to live and he folded
his arms, bent his head on his breast
and allowed the absence of Ventilation
to do its worst with him.
The absence of ventilation is very de-
moralizing. At least Mr.. Pennywise
always declares it is, and he speaks from
experience.
"Chicory," cries the conductor. The
cars stop, out hurries party. In hur
ries solitary Individual. On go the
cars again again they stop. ''verona, y
cries the conductor, at least he intends
to do SO. More cannot be expected OF
conductors.
Thingumy Station. What's-its-
names Landing"