The weekly Oskaloosa herald. [volume] (Oskaloosa, Iowa) 1855-1885, 1874-03-05

| ~ W huiiOuS de
lrepeated the words.
Yet 1t stung me all the same. ]
tossed from side to side of my bed all
night, and thought l could endure i,
no longer. But l would not pain
and disgrace my respectable relatives
by committing suicide in the place
wherein they dwelt and were well
known and thought Of would gc
to N. Y.-even then very large
cityAand seeking some hotel, regis
ter an assumed name, and retiring
at night with bottle of laudanum
and a brace of pistols, awake no
more, and SO be rid of my misery. ]
arranged my affairs to the best of my
ability, and received an imaginary
letter from friend in N. Y, request.
ing my presence on a matter of bust.
ness. l burdened myself with no
unnecessary luggage. What did an
unknown suicide want of another
coat and change Of linen?
Il kissed my mother and sister and
startled my grandfather by an EN-.
brace, started and upon what /
mentally called my last journey,
with determined spirit.
There was a certain hotel to which
many of the people of our village
were in the habit of going. This
avoided. Another chosen at hazard
seemed to be better. Thither 1
walked, determined to leave no trace
OF my destination to those who knew
me-no clue to my identity to those
who should find me dead.
4 had no mark on my clothing, no
card, paper, or letter with me; l had
torn the hatter's mark from my bea-
yer. As L ascended the hotel steps
felt, SO to speak, like one going to
his own funeral.
"A grinning waiter bowed before
me. A pert clerk lifted up his head
and stared. l was an ordinary trav.
eler to them, that was evident.
1T was late in the evening; tn g
place wore an air of repose. Laugh
ing and faint clink of glasses in an
inner apartment told of some conviv.
iallty. One old man read bis news
paper before the fire. Nothing else
was astir.
Il asked for a room. The clerk nod
ded.
DO you care what floor p he asked.
4 shook my head.
Number twenty nine is empty he
said, and tossed a key to the waiter,
whom / followed at once.
'We reached the room by two
flights of stairs. At its door the
waiter pushed.
Though he said twenty nine he
muttered. 'The key is twenty one
'Then open twenly-one with it, !
said. Il don't care for the number of
the room.'
No, sir-to be sure, SIR said the
waiter, and passed along few steps
further.
Twenty one,' he said, and unlock
ing door pushed it open.
Shall l bring you anything, sir p
he said.
Il answered no, and he left me,
having put the candle on my bureau.
The hour had come. AS shut the
door heavy sigh escaped me. Alas 4!
that life had become so woeful thing
to me that l should want to be rid
of it.
'In the dim light of my one candle
l paced the floor, and thought bitter.
ly of the girl l loved 30 dearly.
1T was In the days of curtained
beds. The bed in this room was hung
with dark chintz; so were the win
dows. Over the bureau was a look
ing-glass, with portrait of a lady in
puffed sleeves and high comb at the
top by way of ornament. There were
four stiff chairs, and brass shovel
and tongs stood guard beside the
CRATE. L faneied myself lying dead
on the bed amidst all these belong.
ings and felt sorry for myself. Then
l took my pistols from my portman-
tesu, and leaving the door unlocked,
for why should | put the landlord to
the trouble of breaking it open l lay
down upon the bed, drew the cur
tains, took pistol in each hand, and,
as true as l speak to you, had the
muzzle of each to temple, when
some one opened the door, and
There, now, JESSIE said a voice, Il
told you you didn't lock it,
Il did, said another voice; and
sent the key to the office by the
chambermaid.'
4 laid the pistols down and peeped
through the curtains. There were
two ladies in the room. One an old
lady in brown front of false curls
the other my cruel lady love, Jessie
Gray. For a moment l fancied ]
must be dreaming.
Sure it's the right number p asked
Jessie.
'Twenty-one-yes,' said the other
sAnd here's my band-box. Oh, dear
I'm sleepy
'I'm not, 1 wish 1 was, aunt saic
Jessie.
You didn't sleep a wink last night,
said the aunt. Nor you havn't eatel
your meals to-day. You'll 60 into
decline if you go on in that way. II
see DIR. Black about you to-morro ..
Il don't want DIR. Black to be call
ed sighed Jessie. sd rather die
what's the matter ? cried the oil
lady. You are not yourself. Yo
don't eat nor sleep, and you cry pei
petually. What ails your
'I'm miserable said Jessie.
why p asked her aunt.
'Oh, aunt said Jessie, Sits a.
your fault. You told me over an
over again that a girl must neve
jump at an offer; that a man mus
be refused at least once, or he'd no
value girl. And / liked him so
and oh, he liked me. And when b
asked me l felt so glad Aunt, / re
membered what you SAID, and I-oh
how could / do it / said, 'Oh, dear
MOP and he left me without q word
And Pm so sorry! because l low
him aunt
you little goosep cried the oil
lady.
sAs for me, you fancy how l felt.
had no thought of suicide now. M.
desire was to live and ask that ques
ton of mine over again. Ipockete,
my pistol and crept down on the 9th
er side of the bed. / stepped towar
the bureau and blew out the candle