The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1874-08-20
IN SEARCH OF A SITUATION.

IN SEARCH OF A SITUATION.
She stood at the crossing of the vii
laGc street Just rs the shower came down
II had been rainy morning. the drops
tiltcliug playfully through the clouds
inter>perseu with dazzling outbursts o
sunshine, but now pelting, merciles.
torrent rushed sharply downward, gath
cring vehemencc from past delay.
And there stood BesSy in the midst OF
il. one pretty foot stretched doubtful,
outward to feel for stepping-stont
amidst the torrent that swept over the
crossing.
Quite by accident, of course, youne
Brownley, dawdling at the depot, in
doubt whether to take the next train
caught sight of this vision as he drummed
with idle fingers on the gray green panes
OF the waiting-room. 1t was quite by
accident also, of course, that in a second
after this he was crossing the street !,
little further up. armed with big UNI.
hrella As BesSy, still doubtful. glanced
ructully about to see if she could reach
the nearest tree, or had better brave i,
out, this stranger, picking his way
through the mud and wet, stood by hel
side.
Now we all know that it does not dc
for woman to overstep conventional
limits; she must keep to the bars of her
-ildcd cage, and twitter happily behind
them. To allow gentleman to speak
to her without an Introduction, even if
he were on raft while she tloated BY
going politely to the bottom, would be a
thing OF very doubtful etiquette. But
down came the shower. and there stood
Bessie without an umbrella. Under
some circumstances, it must be owned,
convcntionaliSm makes poor show be.
side savagism, and young Brownley,
having more or less of the savage linger.
ing about him. prottcred his umbrella
1t was promptly accepted by the girl,
who had evidently far less regard for the
rroprictic> of life than for her dripping
dress,
"oh, dear she said, Its completely
spoiled, | suppose. This is the second
time I've started out to see poor little
Tom, and been stopped by the rain
hope it won't rain this way every after
noon.
t" | almost hope that it WILL" said her
companion, Glancing at the bright, flushed
face beside him. Il always carry an
umbrella
Now it must be confessed that this
commendable prudence and foresight
had sprung up in the young man within
the last ten minutes. But what of that =.
Reforms must begin at some time, pre-
sumo.
l have observed that, as a rule, most
heroes of romance arc well provided for
They have Il higher sphere of troubles
than the mere harassment of looking for
bread and butter. And right enough it
should be SO, say l. 1t is pity if we
cannot have Il place of refuge, between
book covers at least, where the contempt.
Bile commonplace of life is not thrust
upon us. All hail to the heroes with
rich uncles and old auHts, and good-hu-
mored, mole-eyed grandmothcrs, and
forthcoming legacies! I'm sorry can't
place my hero among them; but he's
an Intensely everyday fellow, not fit for
such high society. He hasn't even dis
tant relative in India with one foot in the
grave.
The fact is, the youth had actually
come up to Evansville looking for stu
alton in the big country store of Wander
d Co, and, what is more, he'd been re.
fused it,
But here, however, with the incorrigi.
bic hopcfulness of youth, he walked
along beside Bessy and forgot all about
it. He expected to leave her at some
cottage gate near by, and SO he did pres
entity. a pretty, low-roofed house stood
just in sight, with row of red and white
hollyhocks nodding up to its caves. A
scarlet runner, dripping and shining in
the shower, half hid little window fac
ing on the lane, wherein fantastic as
semblage of spools, beads and jars of
confectionery looked out with an eye to
trade.
The girl flung open the gate.
g. Won't you come in:" she said. aunt
Polly will be glad to see YOU"
No, thank you," said the young man,
staring stupidity after her, as she disap-
pcarcd among the hollyhocks.
Lives there, does she." he said, con-
templating the tiny shop.window. I'm
too late for the train to-day. Guess I'll
call in tomorrow. Wonder if they keep
fishing lines."
The next morning, after lounging about
the village and trying vainly to get a
sense of his situation, or rather want OF
one, young Brownley brushed his coat
with extraordinary care.
NO signs of shower to-day" he said,
as he strolled up the road. wonder il
I'd better take train!"
And with that he turned up the lane
toward the little shop. A clean old
woman, in wide-frilled cap and wrinkled
face, sat rocking herself in the doorway
She looked up as the gate latch clicked
a great cat purring at her feet rose sleep
lily, curling its tail, as the intruder en-
tered. Fishing lines:" The old woman
set about fumbling, specialized search
among her motley stock, but none were
to be found. He could get them up Al
Squire Vandcr's big store in the village
All! we'll, the young man recollected jus,
then that he wanted some thread. He
was often in want of bit to sew q but
ton on with. Poor young fellow!" sale
Aunt Polly to herself, commiseratingly;
boarding, l supposed" And needles
would he have needles: He couldn't &c,
no better than her'n anywhere. No, t.
be sure not. And while the good woman
was putting up parcel sufficient to re
store all the stray buttons in Christen
dom, her customer sat expectant, wait
ing, but not for the package; perhaps
trim little figure might suddenly align
in the room, coming in from among tn
hollyhocks, or tripping daintily down tn
old stairway visible just beyond.
Did-did your daughter get yer,